Fenrir's Anthem

\ \ \ \

"So, it's finally come to this." He licked the blood from his teeth, trying to clean the distraction from his senses, "they've gotten all the tools in place. Just a matter of time now."

The woman nearby drew heavily on her cigarette, the discrete hiss and pop of it loud in the otherwise still night. "Are you certain," she breathed, smoke hazing her words. She watched as the man stood and shook himself, small bits of meat and spatterings of blood running over his arms still. "We can't make a mistake here."

Nodding, he leaned against a nearby brick wall, letting the street lamp briefly illuminate him. Tall, for this country, heavily built and muscled. Hair that draped to his chin, and as the light caught behind it, dripped still with the recent kill. She stifled a laugh. Messy eater.

"It's far beyond what we've heard. Too many players, too many plans," snarling, he ran a hand along his scalp, teeth glinting in the light wetly. "I have no ideas." Amber eyes tracked the woman, as she bent and snubbed the cigarette out in the pool that was spreading away from his kill. He growled softly, on impulse.

Shrugging, she leaned on the wall across from him, the light casting her in deeper shadow even as he was limned by it. "How do you stop a machine, that is unstoppable?" Her question was quiet, calm. Like her, it seemed.

"I hate your fucking Chinese riddle bullshit," he snapped, clenching a fist and holding his anger in check very, very tenuously. "If you have an idea, say it. The... things, that they fight, are like ticks on a clock. And it's closing in on night."

"It's simple really," she purred, leaning forward to her eyes glinted as she peered up at him. Her features, exotic already to him as all the people in this country were, were sharpened by that which she was. Pale, drawn slightly, and seemingly bloodless. He restrained the urge to lean forward and snap her head free of her neck, as she grinned up at him, "in every thing, there is a pivot, a key, a fulcrum. A necessary part of it's working. Find it... and destroy it."

Scoffing, the man gestured to the broken, bent form on the ground. "You heard, you saw. Layers on layers of plans, deceit and treachery upon themselves till all that remains is a black mire." Shaking his head, the taller man bent, and picked up the greatcoat he'd discarded, somewhere it'd not be soiled. "You tell me of this keystone. I'll do the rest. My mind isn't for treachery and the winding madness of human nature. I leave that to you and yours."

Laughing, her voice like shattering glass, the woman bowed slightly. "Your esteem uplifts me. But I think this problem is simpler than you think."

"So, perhaps." Indulging his partner in this, more for necessity than desire to be amicable, the man lapsed into silent contemplation, till he took a breath and loosed it in a rumbling growl. "We cannot strike at the abominations. No matter our number.
"No matter how many of the Old Men we kill, or even Ikari, another will move forward.
"The... halfbreed. He has hundreds, all waiting to do his will... "

Her smile was dagger-laced. "You see it?"

"Yes," his grin was, if possible, more terrible. "The son."

\ \ \ \

Shinji trudged, as he often did, back from Nerv after a long night of tests and uncomfortable attention. It was... frustrating. He did well, but it never seemed good enough. Then again, what was he expecting... his father to acknowledge him? A small hope in him still flared at that. It dimmed and went still fast enough, as he dodged traffic that seemed intent on drenching him in dank street runoff.

Everyone it seemed, wanted something of him. A piece of him, or to make him something less or more. It never seemed they wanted him, though. "If I'm not a pilot, what am I?" Did he want to protect people?

His mind flashed back to Touji, after school and the beating he took. To Rei, and despite their odd, up and down... friendship? Still, she had struck him. To Asuka. To Misato. All those familiar faces, all of them only reflecting pain or a single dimension in his mind.

He knew it wasn't fair. Knew there was more to them, more to the various interactions than what he was feeling. Still, it stuck in his mind. Was he meant to protect the faceless masses of humanity for their own sake? Was he supposed to feel some... sense or desire to safeguard those he knew better?

It seemed unlikely.

Why did they expect him to do it? If they thought the way he was treated gave him some will to survive beyond the normal, they were deathly wrong. Shinji wasn't suicidal, but there was a point at which he felt the only value his life had, was Eva. When he removed that, what was left? When he tried to fathom why he wanted Eva, he was left feeling hollow and empty.

I want to live. Do I want to live like this? What else is there? Do I have a choice? His musing was interrupted as a car sped by, showering him with oily water. As the fetid muck dripped off his bangs, he stooped and scooped up a stone, hurling it after the fleeing vehicle, "Son of a bitch!"

To his mixed horror and amazement, it cracked the car's rear window. This didn't escape the driver's attention, and they swerved, braking hard and lighting the scene in a lurid red. "Oh... oh shi-"

Shinji ran. It was silly, he knew. Section-2 were all over the city, if he just pulled his phone and hit the 2 key and held it, every agent within a kilometer would be flocking to him. Yet... a small voice reminded him they were nowhere to be seen, when he ran away. When Touji had spent ten minutes pummeling him. So, Shinji ran, until the stitch in his side made him wince and lean on a building, as he caught his breath.

He'd crossed one of the habitation blocks of Tokyo-3, and was somewhere around where Ayanami lived, he realized. Massive construction booms and the still present sounds of construction, less intense at night, made it a surety. Even with the low light, some crews were out, packing, bolting, bundling things it seemed. He was sure that it was a massive annoyance, but it bothered him not at all. At least he knew where he was. Mostly.

Fifteen minutes of wandering around and he discarded that idea. "Lost," he proclaimed to nothing in particular, looking over the skyline, regular and predictable as this bank of apartments was. Reaching into his pocket, he paused, the hairs on his neck feeling like someone just ran a finger up along them.

"Found," the simple word, seemingly muttered from nowhere spun him around, and Shinji desperately looked about himself.

"Ah... hello?" His feet moved faster. The street lamp nearby looked comforting, compared to the broken gloom and unpleasant shadows behind him, so ignoring his lack of familiarity with the area, and forgetting the phone he was so recently thinking of, he ran for the canopy of light.

Shinji didn't even have time to cry out, as a massive hand cuffed him heavily on the temple. "Predictable," a gruff voice mumbled, gathering up the young man as if he were a discarded shirt, flinging him over a shoulder. With a crouch and a bunching of muscle, the form leapt and was off the street, leaving the rain to wash the city clean of it's grime.

\ \ \ \

"Wake."

The voice caught at his awareness, pulling him out of the stupor he'd been drowning in. Shinji felt... horrible. "Unggh..." forcing his eyes shut harder, he tried to lay back and remember where he was, and why he felt so... sore. A swift pain in his ribs got his attention and he cried out, betraying his state.

"Good. Open your eyes," the gruff voice seemed... odd. He couldn't place it. He knew the speaker was foreign, but what struck him more was the way the words seemed garbled, as if the man were talking around something in his mouth. Blinking up at the light, Shinji winced, turning his head sharply from the stabbing brightness. His head ached, and in this gloom, the shadows and the bright light above did nothing to resolve either the speaker, or his equilibrium.

That sudden motion had him swooning dangerously, as dizziness swept over him. "Ooh..." holding onto the table with a hand, he righted himself with some trouble, trying to get his wits about him. His head felt like a bell that had been rang too hard, and his eyes refused to focus well. "Where...?"

A snorted laugh was his answer, "Nowhere. This is just a place. More important things, we have to discuss." The man, Shinji had no doubt of gender, with the figure's hulking form, stretched out an arm and pulled a burlap sack off of-

Class Representative Horaki. She was sleeping, or unconscious, but unharmed as far as he could see. Slumping in her chair, she was lightly tied to it, more it seemed to keep her sitting there than to hold her. "I know you know her. No lies," the man's Japanese was broken, clumsy but his intent was clear enough. "So. You pilot." It was less a question as a statement, and Shinji nodded woodenly. No harm in it, such was well known now. "Why?"

His eyes snapped up and the canned response almost slipped from his lips. To save... humanity. Blinking a moment he just shook his head, eyes on Hikari but unfocused. "I don't know."

The large man's laughter was anything but pleasant. "Showered the city in blood, more than once. But he doesn't know why."

"What do you want with me?" The young man's voice surprised both of them, and the man regarded him intently a moment, as the strength of frustration, whichever had fueled the outburst bled from Shinji and left him scared, unsure and cold again.

Rising, the man crossed to stand before the pilot and regarded him with blank, amber eyes. "Do you know what it is you work for?" Again Shinji found himself at a loss, as the man waited a moment for his answer. He was shocked out of his thoughts when the man reached over, and grabbing a handful of Hikari's hair, pulled her up into the air. She screamed and writhed at her bonds, the sudden motion and pain waking her from whatever state she'd been in. "For her? For them?" He gestured vaguely about and all Shinji could do was hold his hands out, as if warding off a blow. The man dropped Hikari, and she whimpered, tossing about in her chair weakly.

"Please, don't hurt her, she's not involved in this at all," the young man begged, and the foreigner cocked his head, puzzling over the words a moment, before he extended a hand, his fingers running over Hikari's cheek slowly. Shinji tensed, and the man smiled at him, a very slow lifting of his lip.

The blow, backhanded, sent Hikari across the room, crumpling to the side as her chair's leg broke under her. Shinji's eyes widened in horror, as blood leaked slowly from her nose and lip where she lay, "No! Why did yo-" his words died, as hands closed around his neck and squeezed, easily cutting off his wind. Already he could see his vision graying, and he cursed his weakness, his inability to do anything-

"Shhh. Shh.. " the man's soothing did little to ease his fear and outrage, but he did still, knowing he'd be either out or dead soon, otherwise. Then it would just be the man and Hikari. Even if Shinji didn't know why he piloted, even though he had no higher reason beyond what he knew – his need for affirmation, his desire to be seen and appreciated, he did know that right now, this man didn't want her. For whatever it was he'd planned, it was Shinji that was the key. "Good. Now, let us finish our talk."

As suddenly as the man had said this, he let go and Shinji backed up, tripping on the chair he'd been sitting in and falling. That great mass of foreigner loomed, then shrank to settle beside him. "Let me tell you, what your father plans." Those words got his attention, and the young man looked up with open wariness.

"What... "reaching up, he rubbed at the still sore muscles in his throat. "What do you mean?"

The smile was horrible, and he shrank back. "Let me tell you a story."

And he did, and quite a tale it was. Shinji struggled with the man's words, sometimes asking him to repeat himself. Always his eyes went to Hikari, as she lay. Her breath was steady, and he assumed she just had taken the fall badly. How sad, a small part of him said, that he'd become so inured to violence, pain and hurt that such a thing was so easily glossed over. Shinji drowned the voice, in the shock that followed what the man told him.

"Destroy... everything? Why? Why not let the Angels just win then?"

Jack, as the man had finally given him a name, not that he seemed to care, shook his head slowly. "Control. If Ikari begins it, he defines it. World ends, his way. He would be god, and have that power," the idea made Shinji's stomach go sour, and if he'd had anything in it, such would likely be trying to come up.

Shaking his head slowly, Shinji rubbed at his temple with a finger, "And Seele, the same?" A nod was his answer. "How much of Nerv knows this? How do you know this?" Narrowing his eyes, he looked to Hikari again, meaningfully. "Why should I trust you?"

And then things got worse, as suddenly the man before him seemed to ripple, and there before him was a... something. His mind lacked words. "For knowing, I have ways. For trust, you shouldn't."

"Jack... such crass methods." A melodic voice chimed, and it seemed the lumbering shadow before him just... ceased to be there and was standing, towering over a young woman who was in the doorway. "Easy. I only come to observe."

"I doubt that... why are you here, Zi?" Shinji watched as the woman reached up, looking as if she'd lay a hand on the... thing's face, but then there was a blur and suddenly as they were there, now they were standing, tense by the table. "Will you not introduce me to this guest?"

Snorting, the thing seemed to shrug and it took on again the look of the gruff man, Jack. He had to have been seeing things. The light was so bad, and he still had problems focusing... and if it was, really that thing, then I am well and truly dead, and so is Hikari, and... he shut out the gibbering voice, focusing instead on his hand, as it clenched and relaxed. "This is the son. Shinji."

"And her?" he hated that tone, in her voice. She sounded like Hikari was just a thing, and it rankled him so.

Jack seemed to shrug, leveling a hard glare his way. "Depends."

The woman he'd called Zi glided over and kneeled by Shinji, and he instinctively backed into his chair. "Nothing to worry about from me, young one... after all. I am only here to watch. I'd be more concerned for your... friend? Girlfriend?" Smiling, she showed him why he'd felt so unnerved by her. He mouth was a shark's maw of hooked, wicked teeth. As suddenly as he'd taken notice and looked atain, she was again merely looking up at him, her eyes steady and lips closed, a slight, gentle curve to them.

His mind simply would not admit it. He didn't see that. Not... possible. Those teeth couldn't be behind her lips, there wasn't the room for them! Shinji snapped back to the moment, dazed and feeling like wool was slowly suffocating his thoughts, as the woman introduced herself, "Xian Wen, but my... associates thick tongue cannot speak such delicate words." He nodded automatically, once, unable to do more. "I should let Jack continue, I do find myself curious that you are still... here."

Her words didn't lose their meaning to him. Paling, he finally looked again to Hikari, and started to see the young woman's head resting in Xian's lap, the odd woman dabbling the blood from her face with a delicate fingertip.

She cleaned this off, between her lips. Shivering uncontrollably, Shinji looked back to Jack and just closed his eyes, trying to keep the waver from his voice. "What do you want from me?"

"Smart boy," the voice seemed pleased, and he took a breath, trying to steady himself. He didn't like it, when Jack was happy. "So, you are fine then, with this fate your father and his peers wish?"

"Of course not."

"But you don't know why you fought, and still do?"

"No... why does it matter? I fight. Why do you care?" His nerves were fraying, and the woman kept cleaning her fingers, as they wiped off Hikari's blood. What happened when those stains were gone?

Jack laughed quietly, then. "I care, because if they finish this plan, then me and mine, and your's are ended. So then, do you fight to survive, Shinji?"

It caught him somewhat by surprise, that the man called him by name here. He'd done so, only to the woman, and he looked up and met the man's amber eyes. "I suppose so."

"Well then, we have much in common." Chuckling, Jack seemed to relax for the first time that Shinji had seen, and settled into a chair. The woman Xian was looking at Jack curiously, which in a small way made the young pilot feel better. "Tell me, would you let her die?"

That comfort suddenly evaporated. "What?"

"She will die. I will kill her. Or you will, by following your father. Which shall it be?"

"But... why?" And then it dawned on him. If he did follow his father's plan, if this man wasn't lying to him, then nothing would matter, anyway. "I... what do you want?"

Grinning slightly, the man shrugged and leaned forward, showing Shinji for the first time his wickedly scarred face. "You." Paling, the young man tried to crawl backwards in his chair, but his back was already against the thing. "You see, without you, there is no plan. Others can be replaced. You, you pilot the key. Without you, nothing."

"So... you're going to kill me?"

"I was," the man toyed with his nails, a gesture Shinji thought at first was some kind of efficient posing, till he tapped them on the table, leaving flakes of excised wood and veneer on it's surface. "I have a better idea, now.

"Your life, for hers," pointing, Jack indicated Hikari. "You are no hero. You know well she dies anyway, in his plan. But I give you a choice. Prevent it now, and take a step to change your father's plan, or know that until I kill you after letting her scream and die before you, that you could have stopped it."

His mouth working slowly, Shinji looked back and forth, between Jack, Xian, Hikari and his own hands. It was... unfair. He couldn't do anything! He held no illusions the man would kill either of them. But to die for her... she was just the class Rep! He would kill them both anyway... but what did he mean? Steps to prevent it? "You said... prevent. What did you mean?"

"Survival. You say you fight for it." At Shinji's brief nod, the man smiled again. "Then, I'll give you a chance to do so. You will die, in his plan. In Seele's plan. Why not make your own?"

"I... I can't. I don't even understand half of what you're talking about."

Chuckling, Jack rocked his chair back, and shot Xian a warning glance. Shinji looked over, but the woman was merely rebraiding Hikari's hair. Such a mundane, simple thing almost made him laugh, with the things that were being talked about, so idly. "It will come. You will see. You agree then, a life for a life?"

"It's not just mine, though... or hers," pausing a moment, he closed his eyes and rubbed idly at the bridge of his nose. "You... how does this help you?"

"You will see. But decide. I grow... tired, of talking."

Swallowing nervously, Shinji's head jerked in an affirmative. "Alright. I'll... do it."

Looking up, the man seemed to grow thoughtful, his hands lacing over his stomach. "Xian, take her home. No harm will come to her. She will not remember this."

From the side, he could see her giving the young woman a look, and Shinji couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through him at the longing in it. As suddenly as he'd registered this, they simply weren't there, and surprised, he looked back to Jack-

Only to find the man literally at the end of his nose, the man's eyes a luminescent gold. "Remember these words. You will burn, you will hurt, you will be sick. You will change, from inside out." The man's massive hand wrapped around Shinji's head, and he could feel those nails digging into his scalp. Crying out slightly, he saw a flash of... something, in the man's eyes as he smiled. It was a horrible thing to see, and it nearly broke him there, where he was held in the man's viselike grip. "You will change... and be less and more. But you will not be a tool. Not their tool. Not my tool." Laughing, the man leaned close and Shinji felt sick at his breath, how it stank of old blood and meat. Like the inside of an old grocer's cooler.

"Perhaps... this was fated. One beast, to slay another. Will you be the one to swallow the sun? One month, to complete. Live your human days, quickly. In one month, they end."

Jack's other hand closed over his eyes, but he heard the grinding of... something, like wet wood and stone being rolled against each other. He shuddered, knowing something was coming, something horrible and that he had to run, had to get out of there. Shinji took a breath to scream-

And then his world exploded into pain, and blackness.

\ \ \ \

"Shinji!" A rapping at his door roused him, and he blinked up at the ceiling of his room, then closed his eyes hard. His head was a ruin of pain and ache. "Shinji!"

"I'm – " a coughing fit wracked him, and his door slid open slightly. Misato stood there, peering in the small crack at him, as he tried to get his throat to work.

"You... sound kind of bad. Do you feel alright, Shinji?"

He didn't. Not at all, he realized. His throat burned and his entire body felt like... well it felt like he'd fought an Angel and gotten the usual treatment. Shaking his head, he stumbled out of bed, pulling the sheet with him. He was probably late, and she wanted breakfast, or was trying to keep that harridan Asuka from coming in and making a nuisance of herself. He tried to ask, when his throat constricted again, refusing him. "Water," the only word he could manage, and the one thing on his mind, was all he croaked out.

Misato's eyes widened at the state of her charge. "Oh my... get back in bed. I'll get you some water, and call the school. You're taking the day off, stay here!" She pushed him back toward his bed, and then her eyes found the sheets. "Oh my god..."

Shinji stumbled and fell across his bed, his throat aching like he'd never had a drop to drink. He tried to care about what Misato was going on about, but his mind was too hazed still, and finally, he followed her gaze. There, across his pillow and the sheet, was a smearing of dried blood, and not just a small spot or two. Shinji had a moment to wonder what had bled on his bed, when Misato suddenly took his head in her hands and started tilting it about, looking for something.

He waved her off, the fast motion making him feel ill and dizzy. Brows furrowed, he went to stand again and stumbled, at which point she remembered herself. "Sorry Shinji I... I'll be right back. Get back in bed, just... I'll get new sheets in a minute." Nodding absently he complied, but the motion set his head spinning again and he laid down, uncaring of the stain on his bed.

A minute passed, and he heard the chatter of voices. He could hear lots of sounds, but his head refused to cease it's drumming ache long enough for him to care. Shinji idly wondered if this was what being hung over felt like.

It felt like an itch took root in his head, and writhing he tried to rub his palms over his ears, as it ate at him, and it felt like hours as it seemed something wanted to burrow through his ears. He nearly drove a finger to dislodge what was torturing him, but the sensation passed, leaving him laying there, panting weakly. Voices, clearer despite his echoing head, reached him from the hallway.

"... really worried about him," he could pick out Misato's low voice, her usual light mood gone. Very faintly he could hear someone respond, a tinny, weak little voice. Shaking his head he looked back to the ceiling, and tried to distract himself from the burning that threatened to consume his...

You will burn.

Sitting upright too fast, he clutched at his head and groaned. Distantly, he heard the sound of clattering plastic and footsteps, as Misato rushed down the hall. "I'm so sorry, I called Ritsuko because I was worried," she blurted, rushing to him with a cup of water. His earlier thoughts, disturbed by the flash of some voice, was tossed away when he saw the cup.

It was like trying to irrigate the desert. The paltry drops only served to inflame his throat. Closing his eyes, Shinji let his shoulders hitch slightly, too weary to voice his hurt. The weakness he was showing bothered him, made him ashamed, but what else could he do? If she kept him in here, he had to depend on her, and if there was one thing Shinji had learned in the time since living with Misato, was that the woman's dependability only extended to Nerv and fighting Angels.

Thankfully, she took the hint and simply brought him a pitcher of water, letting him drink his fill. Fleeing for what he assumed was to finish the phone call, Misato left him be again, and he took that time to assess himself, his bed and the horrid ache in his body.

It took him a few moments, but he slowly managed to get to his closet mirror, looking at the state he was in. Naked, not a state he tended to sleep in, it gave him a clear idea how flushed he was, as the white sheets stood in heavy contrast to his reddened skin. Brow furrowed he leaned against the door and gasped slightly, the cold surface of the mirror a shock against his skin. It seemed to wake his senses a bit, and suddenly he was freezing, the air like ice. Shuffling back to the bed he curled up under his blanket, flipping the pillow to hide the stain on it as best he could.

He could have sworn he just closed his eyes, but then there was Misato again, Ritsuko at her side and the blinds over his window clearly dark. "Ah, so you do still live, Misato was worried you wouldn't, the way she talks..." the woman remarked archly, her usual expression of mild annoyance firmly in place. "Thermometer," she announced, before pressing his chin down, a small object stabbing at his tongue. Sputtering, he clenched his teeth around it for the few seconds it needed to register, fixing the woman with a glare.

Her brow arched slightly, at his open annoyance. She made a mental note to make a record of his irritability – such things while piloting were not beneficial. The beep sounded, and with a huff he nearly spat the thing at her. Not trusting his voice yet, he reached to get a glass of water, as the woman looked over his temperature. "Forty point two... well you weren't just trying to get out of class then."

Shinji closed his eyes, and took a moment to calm his breathing. Something about the woman... just grated on him. He wrote it off as his obvious fever, but to be honest... he'd never liked the woman's attitude. So aloof, so uncaring of their well-being. It grated on him sorely, more so now when he wasn't at his best.

"Well, I suppose we should take you in to run a battery of tests," the woman practically sighed, her annoyance not even veiled at this point.

His ire peaked, and Shinji snapped his head around, regarding her coldly. "Sorry, Doctor, perhaps you had something else to do? Don't let me keep you." It stung horribly to choke out those words, but what surprised him was the look of mixed anger and horror that flashed over her face, before her expression blanked out to it's usual mask.

Snapping her small case shut, she turned without another word to leave. Misato, blinking confusedly, hurried after her, calling for the woman to wait. Shinji was just relieved the woman was gone, and would have told Misato to leave off her efforts, but his energy was simply nonexistent.

"What are you doing?" Rounding on the blonde, Katsuragi took hold of her shoulder and turned the woman to face her. "That's it? 'Oh he has a fever, good night?'"

Rolling her eyes, Ritsuko shrugged off Misato's hand and continued to the door. "He obviously doesn't want to come in for testing. He has a fever, and as long as he does, he can ditch class, but he's making up the training at Nerv when he's well."

Boggling, the Major leaned out the door after her long time friend and called, "what's up with you, tonight?"

"Nothing. When his attitude improves, or his condition worsens, call me." The unstated half was clear – don't call for any other reason, at least for Shinji. Bristling, she slammed her door and marched back into the foyer, intent on getting a beer to calm her nerves.

It would figure, that Asuka would choose this point to make herself known, she mused, trying to hide behind the open refrigerator door without success. "So, the baka is sick? Figures, spending all that time walking out in the cold after tests."

This got Misato's attention, and she let the door slide back, beer in hand. "What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Asuka poked around in the cabinet, till she found some western chips. "He stopped taking the train. He walks home most of the time now from Nerv."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

The young woman leveled a glare at her, her free hand firmly planted on her hip, "What? Am I his keeper now? Isn't this why we have Section-2?" Shrugging, she turned and went to the living room, flipping on the TV. "Besides, maybe it's not the cold. Maybe he's been slumming it." Her laugh was derisive. "Probably caught something. Baka."

Shaking her head, Misato just let the other pilot's insinuations go, knowing full well if someone had met with the young man, they'd report it. What she didn't like, was the gaping hole in the monitoring that was there, if he was taking unsecured routes back and forth from Nerv. She would speak with them in the morning – it was too late to get into such things, in her opinion. Idly, she looked down and realized the beer in her hand was still unopened. "Huh."

Laying in the dark, Shinji's brows knit, as he wondered why it was he could hear everything that had just went on. "I know the walls are thin, but... eh. Fevers make you too sensitive." And it was the truth. His sheets felt as rough as burlap. Blinking, something in his head clicked, and he flinched, a ghost of a memory-

-stretched out an arm and pulled a burlap sack off of Class Representative Horaki

His head flared again, as the unwelcome image surged forward. Gasping, he reached up and pressed his palms against his eyes, willing the image to be gone, unable to force it to leave.

"Hikari," he gasped, as his brain rewound in fast motion the piecemeal other happenings of the previous night. Stumbling still from his fever, he rifled through his school bag for his cell phone, falling back on his bed with a groan. "Had to be a dream. Had to be..." his fingers shook, but he pulled her number out of his contacts and waited.

"Hello?"

Sighing, Shinji was about to just hang up till he realized that the number was displayed, from this ID. "Uhm. Hi, Hikari?"

A small silence answered, till her voice broke through the calm, "Shinji... I um. How are you?" The tension in her voice was obvious, and Shinji swore at himself for calling, in his haste. Why wouldn't she be OK? It was just a silly dream. Whatever was making him ill was affecting his judgment, obviously.

His relief was short lived, as he realized he'd called her late at night, for no explainable reason. Thinking quickly, he remembered why she'd ask him about his health, and that he'd been bedridden that day, "I'm fine. Sorry, I um... missed class today. Wasn't feeling well."

"I... had to leave early, too." Something seemed to reach up, and grip at his heart tightly. "I think something is going around," she seemed to be warming to the topic, while he sat, mute and staring ahead unseeing. "Have you had any... well headaches? Nosebleeds or any-"

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Sorry," and slapping his phone shut, he threw it away from himself, eyes panicked and roving around his room. "Can't be real, can't be... I wasn't there. What... right. I'd have bruises, from Jack." Scrambling to his feet, Shinji sped over to his mirror, his balance still being unsure nearly throwing him into the thing. Steadying himself against the door where it was hung, he stared hard at himself, in the half light of his room.

His skin was still flushed, but that wasn't as obvious, or perhaps it was fading. Shinji watched as his breathing caused his chest to hitch, and shook his head. "Nothing... no sign. What..." reaching up, he ran a hand along his neck and sighed, trying to piece together something that would explain the strangeness that had gotten to him. A fever dream? Those happened often enough.

Shinji paused, as his hand ran over the hair along the back of his neck. It felt... matted. Dirty. Pulling his hand away, he looked at the flakes of red on his fingers and remembered his pillow and sheets. The blood there somewhat more than a nosebleed as Hikari had asked, could have caused. Thinking, he ran a hand along his shoulder, along the curve of his neck, where the stain would have rested.

His skin was unbroken. Clean. But... he pressed as something about the way his neck, the muscle between it and his shoulder, felt odd. Pressure made him wince, as it almost felt like he'd just pressed in at a bruise sharply. Running his fingers along it with more deliberation, his eyes narrowed.

Long ago, he'd managed to get an infection, after cutting his foot on a sharp shell along the beach. The wound had went septic, and it took some time to heal. Since then, he'd had a small scar on his foot, just on the outside of his large toe. It felt... strange, sometimes, when he rolled the skin over it wrong. Like there was a fissure of harder tissue there, under the surface. He knew it was just the scarring of the wound, but still, after so long, it hurt.

Under his fingers, in the muscle it seemed, were hard strands that he traced, a small series of them, as his fingers wandered. Blinking, he slid his hand around the muscle, and there, along the back as the front, that same sensation.

Tracing the pattern with a fingertip, his breath caught. He was tracing a half circle.

Half circle... on either side. Swallowing, he jerked his hand away, and hurried to the bathroom, snatching up some clean clothes almost as an after thought. "Shower... a shower would help me clear my mind," he said, and as he gathered things and stalked to it, repeated the odd mantra.

He was so distracted, lost in thought, that he didn't notice Asuka standing by his door, as if to knock as he swept by, slamming the bathroom door behind himself.

Her mouth working silently a moment, she finally blushed at what she'd just seen. "Why you... god! How can I live in a place like this!" Stomping to her room, she closed her door and tried to forget about the young man who'd just swept by, expression stormy and so unlike himself. That was easy enough to overlook, but his nakedness had stuck, and it plagued her already unsettled mind.

\ \ \ \

He woke, just in time to stop the first chirp of his alarm. "Hrm..." rolling out of bed, he stretched and winced as his muscles creaked in protest, the light outside gentle on the blinds. It looked to be shaping into a beautiful, late summer day. Rubbing at his face to clear the sleep from his senses, he paused, remembering the night before. "I'd called Hikari..."

Sorting through his closet, he finally found the discarded phone, and it's single, winking message.

"Two missed calls." It said, the black letters easy to see on the screen. Shinji could guess from who.

"Dreams becoming nightmares," he mumbled, gathering up his clothes for the day, and getting dressed.

The morning routine, much to Misato and Asuka's confusion, was in full swing that day. They both awoke to the usual smells of Shinji's breakfast cooking, which as they poked their heads out respective rooms, they thought to blame on the other. "If you're not," they said in unison, as from the foyer Shinji leaned out to say good morning.

Being up at an unreasonable hour for her aside, Misato was curious how Shinji was feeling. She remembered a few times, during school and having a fever, and even recently, but none of those had cleared up as quickly as the pilot's ailment. "So... back to normal today, Shinji?"

Glancing up at her, he shrugged slightly. "I feel fine. No need to laze in bed, if I'm well."

Being a tactician had it's benefits. One of those was learning patterns, and how they relate to the world and the people in it. Those patterns set up an easy way to predict, or barring that, learn from an opponent. Used socially, it made it relatively easy to tell certain things about people, especially if one was known for some time.

What she'd just heard, was Shinji lying. "I see," deciding to just let it go, she instead dug into her breakfast, noticing another oddity that morning. Asuka, being unusually quiet. Concern, weariness and a lack of interest in more roommate hostilities kept her silent, but throughout that morning, her mind was going double time. "Mm, well this was good. Remember to check in with Rits, Shinji. I'm sure she'd like to give you a checkup, make sure you're in good health." And I'll check in with Section-2, just to be sure you're not doing anything strange and dangerous, she added for her own benefit.

"Checkup," snorting, Asuka rolled her eyes. "More like dissection. I hate it when she gets in her 'zone' in those labs." Shivering, she stood and cleaned her plate at the sink. "I'd stay away from her, if I were you. She has a penchant for cold instruments..."

Misato nearly spat her beer across the table, as Shinji had to think a moment about Asuka's comment. Blinking rapidly, he blushed as the young woman laughed. "Just kidding, but anyway. I'm off, later."

"She's in... good spirits," Shinji noted, idly preparing a lunch for himself. Brow furrowed, he quickly set up another, figuring it would help him deal with something he needed to do today. One way or another, he needed to talk to Hikari one on one. The best time for that would be at lunch, so, if he had to separate her and Asuka, food was the best course.

And if not... he rested a hand on his stomach, still growling despite his recent meal. Well. It wouldn't go to waste.

\ \ \ \

Class 2-A was proceeding, like the morning at home, much as normal. That fact relieved Shinji, as it lessened some of the stress he'd had the day before, with his fever. The only thing he noted that seemed out of place, was Hikari and her somewhat distant, oddly detached manner. When the teacher had entered, she had been slow to call the class to order, needing the man to clear his throat to get her attention.

Later, she'd missed a queue entirely, when it was her role to come forward and work on an equation. Trying not to stare, Shinji had misgivings about talking to the young woman, as he didn't want to possibly disturb her further. Sighing, he knew that no matter how off she seemed, he had to do this, if only to figure out what she wanted to talk about after he had his breakdown on the phone the night before.

Lunch came quickly, despite the annoyance of a few people asking why he'd been absent, and the usual moments with Asuka. It wasn't so much that she openly caused him problems, most of the time. It was her attitude, he decided, stabbing away at his notes on the laptop. Superior, haughty... it irked him. His memory chimed in, that in truth, as far as school was concerned she was, having already graduated as a prodigy from college. That boggled him, honestly. How could someone so intelligent be so... abrasive?

He rolled his eyes as an image of Ritsuko came to mind.

Unlike usual, where he would hurry up to the roof to avoid awkward questions, Asuka's random ire or other unforeseen things, he lingered, waiting for a chance to approach the young woman. His moment came, when during a small talk with another student, he managed to catch her eye.

He gestured, nodding and looking toward the back of class. She responded with a slight nod.

Shinji sat and waited, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger that was trying to turn him inside out it seemed. Finally, the class Rep made her way to him, "Hi, Shinji," her anxiety was obvious, but he could understand it. They were eating together, or meeting, during lunch. Rumors were quick things in their class,

"Hi Class Rep, was wondering if you could help me get up to speed from yesterday, I seemed to have missed some things," the lie was loud, obvious and true, to a form, which made it easy to pass off. The few lingering students seemed to loose interest, and Hikari relaxed a bit, seeing through his act easy enough. She sat and they talked about the day before, how as he'd expected, nothing new or relevant had occurred.

When Asuka came looking for the young woman, he pulled out the other lunch grudgingly and a sheaf of reports on calculus. The redhead took one look at both, and snatching up the box, beat a hasty retreat.

As he looked back from her retreating form, he noticed Hikari blinking at him, curiosity plain on her face. "That was... well planned. You didn't really want to ask me about yesterday's assignments, did you Shinji?"

Shaking his head, the young man, leaned forward, his voice cast low. "I'm sorry, about that call-"

"Forget it," her blush rose quickly, and she stumbled over her words a moment, seeming unsure. "I just... had some frightening dreams. I guess something is going around, huh?"

Nodding, more to reassure the girl than to agree, he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. They ate in silence, until his curiosity wouldn't be still. "Your dream. It was... of a man. Talking, to me. You had something over your face and then-"

The look she had, the paleness behind her dusting of freckles told him more than he needed. Cutting off his description, he loosed a sigh and packed up the empty containers of his lunch. "Sorry. I had to know."

"How... did you know? I thought maybe we got the same cold or something but..."

Rising, he tried to find some comforting words. Some small token, or great truth that he could tell her, that would make whatever memory she had, less frightening.

She will not remember this.

His head burned. Stumbling, he nearly fell against the young woman but for catching himself on the desk, his hands splayed there as he slid. A moment passed, as silence fell over the classroom, and the few people still there. Shinji laughed quietly, as he remembered those words, the conversations finally all coming back into place. "He lied. Didn't he."

Hikari was looking up at him, eyes wide and frightened. She nodded once, and he couldn't tell if it was to agree with the vague statement he'd made, or just to ward him off, on whatever strange tangent he was on. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and leaning down, whispered a quiet apology before leaving her, his meal feeling unsettled in his stomach.

With his back turned, he missed the young woman, running her fingers along eight marks, shallow gouges that had been left in the desk's top.

\ \ \ \

The fever had been harsh enough, but now he found himself in an entirely different, strange predicament.

Shinji had never been a big eater. Often, he ended up cooking the meals he did with larger portions, just because he simply felt wasteful making something for himself. Following the trend of the last few days, something had gone wrong with that as well.

He first noticed it after the rather tense meeting with Hikari. Breakfast that morning was fine, but by lunch his stomach seemed to just... churn, and grow angry at anything he ate. He blamed it on the charged emotions of that day, and let it go with little thought.

After school, he'd declined to deal with the take out that was the day's meal, and just slept off the day. There was a note from Misato about something, but by the time he'd gotten home, Shinji just didn't care enough to worry on it. If it was an emergency, someone would call. If she needed whatever was on the note, she'd come bother him.

Sleep didn't come easy, as the apartment practically vibrated with noise, and he... felt hungry, despite his stomach rejecting lunch earlier. His last thoughts before sleep finally overtook him, were of how much he despised being sick, and a nagging worry that whatever his memory was telling him, was more to worry on than a passing flu.

The next day proved a similar situation, and again he had yet another issue that told on his mind. Apparently Misato had some issue with his walking from Nerv, a habit he'd taken up after a particularly bad argument with Asuka. It wasn't something specific to the other pilot – after the time he'd rode the trains, avoiding home and the Eva, they'd just felt... uncomfortable.

Walking helped him clear his mind. Helped him let the day be less trying, which he needed, desperately now.

Again, his apatite was running the polar gamut. He felt starved, yet nothing seemed to sit well with him. His energy was flagging, and by the end of the week, he was eating just to do so, knowing he'd be sick and that it was essentially futile.

By chance, he'd been walking with Hikari's sister, as their path's crossed after school and she had struck up a conversation. It wasn't awkward, so much as just random, and he actually was finding himself enjoying Kodama's company, when something caught his attention.

A smell. It wrenched at his stomach, and had him nearly stumbling where he stood. "Shinji, are you alright?" Her small hand rested on his shoulder. He distantly noted she was close, very close... the smell of her perfume, the way her eyes were dilating slowly-

"Yeah," the moment passed and he smiled, backing away politely. She was nice, but it was... odd. Her eyes seemed to not see him. They continued the walk, and the pilot tried to figure out where those insights came from, and if he'd simply just avoided thinking about them if they'd always been there, when again the smell reached him. The reaction wasn't as strong this time and rather than let it overpower him, he focused on it.

Smiling an apology, he excused himself, but Kodama continued with him, seemingly intent on his original offer to escort her home. He didn't mind, it just felt awkward, knowing Hikari would be there. They weren't involved, in any form of the idea, but still... walking his class Representative's older sister home just felt wrong somehow.

Finally, he found the source of his preoccupation, and boggled quietly. "Oh, this place. It opened just recently. Odd to find a restaurant out here, most are downtown..." her voice droned on, as he lifted his nose, sniffing at the air once, a slow, deep intake of air.

Meat, something in his mind said, as he caught the scents of the western style cooking. Extravagant, expensive and unusual, the steakhouse had a good reputation, if it ran across the grain of many people in the city. Misato's apartment was a frugal affair most times, the simple Japanese fare he prepared often lacking meats other than dried or smoked fish.

"...try it?"

He snapped back to his senses, and blinked at the young woman beside him. "Excuse me, sorry. What did you say?"

She grinned, shrugging slightly. He was reminded again, how different the two sisters were, then. Kodama was at once like Hikari, in that her hair, eyes and skin seemed a mirror of her younger sibling, even to the slight dusting of freckles. There, though, the similarities ended. Slightly taller, taller than Shinji, she had a much more pronounced figure – appropriate, he told himself. She was two years his senior. Her hair was kept loose, down at her shoulder in a bob that at once reminded him of Rei but without the... haphazardness of the other pilot's hair. "Would you like to try it?"

Her eyes were different too, Shinji noted as he looked back to the restaurant with clear longing. She looked... hungry. She wanted something. The look reminded him of how Kaji looked, sometimes when he was around Misato. Smiling, Shinji shrugged and motioned to the door, reaching into his wallet for the Nerv ID there. Beside him, Kodama slipped her arm through his, and seemed to melt against his side as they walked.

How unusual, he mused distantly. She obviously doesn't know me, I don't even know if she wants to. Perhaps it's that I'm a pilot... his musing wasn't as critical as it would have been normally. Normally, if a woman had asked him such a thing, he'd have sputtered and mumbled till they lost interest, his defensive shell preventing him from reacting well. It wasn't gone, not by a far measure, but for the moment... In all truth, his entire reaction to the woman's odd display was skewed through a haze of something he'd rarely felt, at this strength.

Hunger.

He was... and in a small way it shamed him, aroused at the idea of food. The expectation, anticipation of slaking that need was spilling over, and as he looked at the woman on his arm, an odd impulse took him, one he nearly acted on. Shinji very nearly leaned down, and ran his nose along her jawline. Ducking to mask the action, he shook the odd impulse off.

As they were seated, his mind was preoccupied with the smells, the peculiar expectation of his body to the meal he was generously paying for, as well as Kodama's.

He didn't care, how it looked, how much it was. If she'd said goodbye there on the corner he'd still be sitting here. It was just more convenient to simply act, than muddle through so many tired social interactions.

Hunger.

It washed over him again, and he shuddered. He could not remember feeling a need this strong. Somewhere, across the table, Kodama twittered, laughing coyly about something he'd not heard. Nodding, he distantly wondered what she was saying. He couldn't fully bring himself to focus, or care, as every time his mind seemed to reengage, it was blasted back by the sheer need he had to feed.

Swallowing, he stilled his raging mind, and looked to his company. She was watching the entertainment, a slight smile on her face. She was pretty, he admitted. Shinji almost laughed when he thought, perhaps, she was using him for some petty social game, with his status as a pilot.

It amused him, to think that he was using her as well, to have a passable excuse to come here. Who would question his motive, and sudden change in habit if on the arm of a pretty girl? The sudden duplicity in his motivation made him laugh, and she did as well, thinking him amused by the show.

Quietly, a voice said he was ill, that something was wrong with this, very wrong. It's voice was weak, small and easily ignored, as the rushing, torrential impact of his body's reaction to a waiter, carrying another table's meal, passed close by. He moaned quietly.

It was like so, distractedly laughing at jokes he wasn't hearing and waging a war with his own reactions, that he caught the eye of the last person he expected to see that afternoon.

Across the room, situated far on the other side and away from the bustle of the main floor, sat Rei Ayanami. She was still, like him, in her school clothes, and the moment their eyes met, something there tore him out of his internal warring, his base preoccupation going silent. Shinji vaguely noticed that his companion had done the same, and he had a momentary twinge of anxiety that she would turn and see Rei. Questions that followed such a thing, if he remembered his daytime dramas, were never very comfortable.

Still, this was not something he could overlook. Wasn't Rei a vegetarian, he mused. "Excuse me," and with little other explanation, he stood and walked a circumferential path around the main floor. When he approached her table, the other pilot simply looked up at him, saying nothing. "Good afternoon, Rei," he greeted.

Of all the people that Rei interacted with, Shinji knew that on some level, she was more open to him than most. Perhaps the only other person he had any hint that this was different about, was his father. Their relationship bemused the young man, and tended to cause him rather dark fits of contemplation. Why did he replace Shinji with her, in his life? Why was she so close to a man, that arguably, no one could be? What did it mean, to him, that on a level that Shinji still didn't allow himself to come to grips with, he was attracted to her? Then there was the memories of what Jack had said... could it be true? That there were... others? Other Reis?

Crimson eyes blinked once, and only his personal anxiety kept him from chuckling. She was also somewhat confused to see him here, it seemed. "Pilot Ikari."

"This is a nice restaurant, but ah..." glancing about, he noticed the usual Section-2 shadows, those that he could see, standing about silently. The fact none were whispering into their lapels, or holding fingers to their ears to better hear their orders comforted him, somewhat. "I didn't think this was the kind of food you enjoyed," he concluded lamely.

Her eyes flicked behind him, and he could practically feel Kodama's gaze on his back. Shinji visibly winced. "Your companion seems... irritated." Laying her menu down, Rei seemed to consider her next words very carefully, before speaking. "I am here to meet with Commander Ikari. He is currently late."

"Father," instinctively, Shinji glanced about, as if saying his name would summon the man. Berating himself for such irrationality, the young man also resisted the urge to look behind him, and see the expression on Kodama's face. "I suppose that would make sense. Meeting him here, not the lateness... ah," sighing, he was intently aware of her gaze on him again. The memory of her striking him on the escalator was still fresh in his mind, despite the events after, their somewhat awkward moments after as he pulled her from the smoking ruin pf her Eva, after the Yashima operation.

"Will you sit?"

He blinked, and looked back to her as she seemed to be inspecting her phone. During his musing, she must have pulled it out, he figured. Another lapse in attention... this is getting worse, he berated himself, for perhaps the tenth time that day for the same. "I ah. Kodama..."

"I see," and to his intense discomfort, the young woman rose and stood, well within his personal space. Quietly, shielding herself from view of the other woman behind him, she looked up to him again, "Would you like to join me?"

From anyone else, this would have seemed like redundancy, and rather forward as well. Shinji knew though, that the two questions weren't connected, at least to her. In truth, what confused him more was that Rei seemed to be actively seeking his company. Which meant she wanted to speak to him about something. "I... would need to tell Kodama, and that would be somewhat rude, as we came in together." It was the truth, but more, he wanted to see her reaction.

It wasn't some egotistical need to have the girl vie for his attention, more gauging how important it was, what she wanted to speak about. When she blinked, her brow creasing ever so slightly, he sighed, knowing this day was not going to become less complicated. "I see. Excuse me a moment."

He turned to see where she was going, and only just managed to figure it out before the young woman could begin to make her way to Kodama's table. "Rei! What are you doing," he hissed, pulling up beside her, wishing he wasn't in such a formal place, so he could just reach out and stop her advance.

"Dismissing your companion," she stated simply, stride even.

Shinji's mouth worked, and he seemed to come back to himself after missing a step. "You can't do that," he countered, a blush managing to warm his cheeks. Oh this was going to go so badly, he groaned to himself.

At this she turned, stopping in the center of the room. "Why?"

The simplicity of the question, location, and utterly overcomplicated answer just made him sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose lightly. "It's... complicated, alright? You just don't go telling other people's... ah, guests," he swallowed, annoyed at having to explain this in neutral terms. He'd almost called Kodama a date, and that on it's own was disturbing.

"Look," taking her arm, he guided her to the side, obscuring the line of sight to Kodama with a standing trellis, with climbing vines. "Let me get this... clear, so I know. Father isn't coming?" This point seemed to worry him most – he had no intention of seeing the man so soon after that whatever it was with Jack. Neither did he want to be caught at the same table as Rei, if he was expected.

It just made his skin crawl, thinking about it.

She shook her head and he breathed a sigh of relief. "OK. But you are hungry?" A nod was his answer. "Alright. Last question, for the moment. This isn't something you could have called to talk to me about?"

Rei's surprise was brief, but she nodded. "It would have been recorded by Section-2. Additionally, it is something I have been considering for some time."

Shinji reached up and rubbed at his temple slightly. Why did it always become so complicated... "Alright. You go sit, and wait. I'll be back in a moment."

When the other pilot made no move to return to her table, he rose a questioning brow. "Rei?"

"I was curious how one 'dumped' a date. I am waiting to observe."

"What do you-"

He was spun around then, and had a very brief glimpse of angry brown eyes before a palm made contact with his cheek, the impact making his ears ring. "Prick," was her only accusation, as Kodama stalked away without a backwards glance. Admittedly, the blow stunned him a moment, but he forgot it quickly when he saw Section-2 moving discreetly to intercept the young woman.

"Oh hell... Rei, will you-" She nodded and he moved to intercept the agent nearest Kodama, as the other pilot seemed to read his intent. Shinji just hoped to diffuse the situation before it could become even more mangled.

Shinji got close enough to hear the man say, "Excuse me, Nerv Security Section-2, I will need you to come with..." before he pulled up beside the now nervous woman, obviously unsettled by the agent's intimidating manner.

"Hi, um. That shouldn't be necessary."

Blanching when the man's veiled gaze swept over him, the agent seemed to consider this a moment. "Very well, pilot."

"It's just that ah... " he felt the need to give the woman something, other than Rei's implied motive, to leave with. It had nothing to do with him wanting to continue some liaison with her, so much as how rude he felt, and how she must feel after his behavior. "We needed to discuss some... classified material, and with my recent sickness I was unable. With my father expected..." He knew, that if anyone did, the agent would know of his father's movements. He only hoped the man would show some kind of empathy for the situation, and the young woman.

Kodama's eyes widened slightly. It was widely known that Shinji's father was the commander of Nerv, and with that, many knew he was not the most pleasant man, either by listening to those that worked in Nerv, or those that simply disagreed with his methods. Swallowing, she looked between the man and his charge, and seemed to loose some of the indignation that was present earlier. "I'm... I'm sorry, Shinji. Ah, I should be getting home."

A small idea struck him, and the pilot looked at the agent again, thinking perhaps he could press his luck. The worst that could happen, would be his plan could fail, and well... the day was already quite shot, as Misato would say. "Sir, it's late and it was partially my error that I'd forgotten this... could you escort her home?" Shinji wasn't surprised to see the man's brow rise, at his request. What did surprise him was the small nod he gave, and the brief, incomprehensible code he murmured into his lapel. "Thank you."

"Ma'am?" Kodama started, and then hurried off, mumbling her thanks, the agent slipping behind her as they made their way from the restaurant.

Shinji visibly slumped, relieved that the situation hadn't gotten too out of hand. No thanks to me really, he railed. What was he thinking, just going along with Kodama, coming in here? Memories of his reaction to the scents from the restaurant stirred his hunger again. Shinji made his way back to Rei's table, the impulse to hold a hand over his stomach to quell it's growing almost too strong to deal with.

Rei was already waiting for him, as he arrived. "You don't think that this will be a problem, do you?"

She shook her head, looking uncharacteristically weary. "No. Those agents are familiar with me, and I believe they have voiced a concern that I 'do not get out' enough. I know that agent Yosuke whom you spoke with has a daughter, our age. Your companion will be safe."

Thanking the waiter that came by to attend them, the young man leaned on a hand, trying to sort his errant thought unsuccessfully. "Just so strange..." he murmured, as he considered his last few days, nearly a week, since the incident.

"I do not understand." He blinked up at Rei, as she quietly regarded him.

"Ah. I'm still... um, I suppose not feeling very well. It's just compounding a bit and then the last few days have been a bit stressful." Smiling slightly, he hoped to put the young woman at ease, dismissing his own worries, but when her expression remained stoic, he let it fade. Rei wasn't one to react to such queues, really.

Instead she nodded once, and told the waiter her order. Shinji grinned, at the irony of her ordering a salad in a steakhouse. When his turn came, he forewent the menu, and ordered the largest cut available, in rare. The waiter looked him over curiously once but shrugged, taking down the request.

"Rei, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?" He'd thought to approach the topic more gently, but... if there was anyone on earth he could be frank with, it was Rei.

The young woman took a breath and nodded. "Yes. I am concerned about the current dynamic of our group."

"As pilots?"

Nodding, Rei seemed to hesitate, before continuing. "Although I do not... enjoy pilot Soryu's company, I worry on our efficiency, as pilots."

He considered this a moment, and nodded. "Right. Her competitiveness does seem... counterproductive. She's not a bad person, though. I just... I guess I have no idea how to work around it. It's part of who she is."

"Yes." Rei fell silent, as the two teens dwelled on their fiery peer. "I do not know what to do either. I do... feel, that the Angels will be stronger, in the future. They will become more difficult, to defeat." Paling slightly, Shinji had to admit it made a kind of sense. The fights up till now, though few, had been progressively harder. The last, it's range and seemingly impenetrable fortress of a shell, had nearly killed Rei, in fact.

"It makes no sense, really," he mused, thinking back to the redhead's personality, and behavior. "Despite her education, and her training that she talks about in Nerv Germany, she really doesn't do so well. What was father thinking?"

It was the chill silence after that comment, that pulled Shinji's attention back to Rei, as she sat staring at him with the same veiled irritation he'd seen before, when he questioned his father last. Unlike last time, he knew the source of her glare, "You have as much reason to blindly follow him, as I have to question him." He stated simply, causing Rei to blink.

"What do you know of my loyalty to the commander?"

Sighing, Shinji realized the error in what he'd done. Lying to her bothered him, but unless... if what he thought had happened, really did, then there was the risk that letting Rei know what he did would cause not only problems for her, but himself. Shinji didn't doubt for a moment that Gendo would do anything, if what he learned was true, to stand in his way. "You spoke of your bond to people at Yashima. And... well it was somewhat obvious in how you reacted last time."

Rei frowned. "You are... lying to me."

Shinji's chin slipped off his hand, where he was leaning. "Um." He should have known better that to try and lie to someone who spent almost all their time watching people.

"Will you tell me?" Her words tore at him, and he drew back, looking contemplative. Rei watched him carefully, her head tilted slightly to the side. "Why do you worry?"

"I... " sighing, he shook his head slowly. "Not here. I can't say here."

"I understand," but despite her words, her face was drawn in mild annoyance. Luckily, the waiter chose this moment to arrive with their meal.

All thoughts of the conversation died, when Shinji saw the meat laid out before him.