"Before and After," by Muphrid. After the battle with the Twelfth Angel, Rei begins to reexamine who she is and whether she can accept the fate Gendō's dealt her.

Before Bardiel

Chapter Two

I've never had much money. The Commander gives me a small stipend every Monday, enough to secure a week's meals from the grocer's. Light and water are at Nerv's expense. Everything else is luxury, and I have no need for them. I save what I don't use, week to week.

At that moment, standing on the sidewalk, my savings amounted to three hundred yen. Not enough, I realized, to do much other than drop a coin into the public phone and hold the receiver to my ear.

I dislike telephones. Even more than face-to-face, people expect others to respond when they're done speaking to them.

"Hello, Katsuragi here."

If I'd gone to Major Katsuragi's apartment, she would know who I am and not have to ask.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"Major," I said.

"Rei? My, this is unexpected."

Yes. It is.

"Something the matter?"

"No."

"I see. So why are you calling me at home then?"

"I'm not calling you."

"Well, Rei, I think you are."

It would be too cumbersome to explain.

"Or perhaps you didn't mean to call me?"

Then again…

"Asuka, perhaps?"

"No," I said. "I do not wish to speak to her."

"Oh, I see now," said the major. "Shinji-kun, then?"

"Is he present?"

The major's voice went faint and distant. "Asuka! There's a girl on the phone calling for Shin-chan! Maybe you know her?"

"Eh?" Pilot Sōryū grew louder and more shrill as she approached the receiver. "You must be joking! That idiot wouldn't know the first thing about girls. He must've said he was a great and courageous Eva pilot and seduced whoever-it-is."

"I thought you said he knew nothing about girls," said the major.

"Oh, give me that!" The line cracked with static. "Hello? Look, I don't know who you are, but you don't want anything to do with Shinji, you understand? He's a first-class wimp, you know! How anyone so passive and doll-like can even pilot an Eva is beyond me! Who are you to find that attractive, anyway?"

"I would like to speak to Major Katsuragi again, please."

"EH? Misato, what the hell is this? It's just First on the line. What kind of joke are you trying—"

The line went quiet.

I think, in retrospect, this was the first time I'd ever heard Pilot Sōryū be perfectly silent.

"So," she said at last, her voice lower, more ragged. "Miss Perfect is after Shinji, is she? Interesting. A doll like you would fancy a doll like him, wouldn't you. Fine. You want him? You think you can make the first move? He sure won't."

From the banging that followed, I think Pilot Sōryū threw the receiver against the wall for good measure.

"Ah, Rei?" said the major. "I guess I didn't think Asuka would have such a strong reaction. Sorry about that."

"Are you?"

She hesitated. "You were looking for Shinji-kun, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have to be sorry for that, too; he's not back yet. Strange, actually. When I left work he was with Kaji. It's unusual for him to take so long."

"I'm certain Inspector Kaji isn't making unwanted advances on Ikari-kun."

"He'd better not!" The major grumbled. "I may have to call them up and drag them back to Nerv."

"To Nerv?"

"Yes. Ritsuko just called; apparently the scientists want to do another synch test today. Can you believe it? It'll practically be dinner time by then!"

"I see."

"The test's in an hour; if you like, we can swing by and pick you up. Ritsuko told me you've been back and forth a lot lately. You must be tired."

"That is acceptable."

"All right. See you in a bit?"

I hung up. I didn't call to speak with Major Katsuragi, though I find her generally acceptable. Competent, for the most part. Reckless sometimes. As long as the Commander has faith in her, I do, too. I do not usually have need to socialize her.

No. I called for Ikari-kun. I called for a very specific reason, a reason apparent as I pushed open the door to my apartment, the door with no lock.

My apartment is clean.

Why is the floor clean?

Some people have an odd fascination with cleanliness. In some contexts, I understand it. The Commander's office is pristine. Even a single speck of dust he brushes from his desk. This is efficient. The Commander works there. He cannot afford distractions. He has a task, a purpose, and that purpose demands no distractions. He is … single-minded.

But I do not work here. I eat, and I sleep. I dress and report to Nerv. I attend school. I do what is required of me. Everything else is distraction. I don't need a clean floor. Most of that space is wasted anyway. If it were important, I'd have cleaned it myself.

No, I'm sure of it now. This trivial matter was not important to my purpose.

But it could be important to me.

This morning, I walked with the Commander, into Central Dogma. He asked me if I were well, and I said I was. I told him I would see Doctor Akagi tomorrow and go to school the next day.

He said this was good.

And that was all.

The Commander has never cleaned my floor. I don't expect him to, nor do I ask that he hire a maid or a housekeeper. Such extravagance is wasteful, and I don't think I'd want another person here to pick up after me.

If I were ordered to, I could renovate this apartment. I wouldn't know what suits it, but I've seen other rooms. They're … bright. They're white. They have things. They have pillows that aren't for sleeping. They have mirrors that aren't for grooming. They have decorative things, things that serve no purpose except to exist, to be perceived.

Am I not the same? I pilot Eva; it is my connection to people, but is it my purpose?

I think the Commander wants more of me than that. I fear the Commander wants more of me than that.

But why is the floor clean?

I know, mechanically, why this is so. Ikari-kun and Suzuhara-kun visited a short while ago. They left printouts from class, and Ikari-kun collected all the crumpled paper and bandages in a rubbish bag. He apologized—why, I don't know—and assured me he left everything else untouched. Everything that was mine.

In this, I think, Ikari-kun misunderstands. Nerv owns this apartment. It isn't mine. My uniform, my bag—Nerv bought them, too. Nerv bought my textbooks, and what I borrow from the library is just that: borrowed. The Commander's glasses aren't mine, either. I keep them, but only because they are no longer of use to him.

That's why Ikari-kun was wrong. I don't own anything.

Not this apartment.

Not my textbooks.

Not even this body.

I looked at the reflection in the washroom mirror. Pale blue hair. Bright red eyes.

Did you think I'd look different enough, Commander? Did you think no one would notice I resemble her? When we ate lunch today and you gazed across the table, did you see me or her?

Do you see me for her, too, Ikari-kun? Though you don't know I'm her?

"I took it upon myself to clean up a little," he said, "but I didn't touch anything except trash."

Warmth.

My eyes snapped open. My cheeks were red.

I've felt this before. Not for the Commander, either.

And though I don't understand it, I think I'm thankful, too.

Gratitude. Words of thanks. Words I've never said before.

I'd never even said them to him.

Is that ungrateful?

He scarred his hands greatly to see I was well. He let his glasses warp and melt in boiling LCL. He pried open the entry plug with only the strength of his arms and hands.

They both did.

No, there's a difference. He knows what I am. He made me. He's given me a purpose. He knows who I am and what I represent.

His son doesn't.

Why did you pry open my entry plug, Ikari-kun? Why is it too sad when I say goodbye? Why shouldn't I say I have nothing else? I didn't. I don't. I hardly knew you then; I don't know you now.

Why is the floor clean?

Was it because, even then, you felt some connection to me? You knew, or you felt, something?

I put the notebook down. The Commander was right. This could be very distracting.

And yet, I don't wish to stop.

The floor is clean.

I think I prefer it this way.

Knock-knock. "Rei?" said the major. "Are you in there?"

The major has come for me. The major, Pilot Sōryū…

And Ikari-kun?

I answered the door.

"What a surprise," said Pilot Sōryū. "I expected your place wouldn't be any fun, but this is a dump!"

The major winced, laughing lightly. "Sorry about that," she said. "Ready to go?"

The major, Pilot Sōryū…

But no Ikari-kun.

"Shinji-kun?" said the major. "Oh no, Kaji's going to walk him back to Nerv. We'll meet him there."

I looked to Pilot Sōryū, and I wished, for a moment, I still had a choice to walk there myself. I realize that sounds mean-spirited, so let me be clear: I bear Pilot Sōryū no malice. Malice requires that I wish her harm or injury. I do not. I've never been ordered to inflict harm upon her, for one.

I also think that, if injured, she would strive to be even more unpleasant than she already is. It's not that I resent her presence alone, but what she says I cannot trust. It's difficult enough watching people, being uncertain whether their smiles are genuine. With Pilot Sōryū, even simple words take on a thousand meanings—or most often, the meaning they carry is the opposite of what they should mean, what, to any other person, they would mean.

I don't put much stock in what Pilot Sōryū says at all.

"He's amazing!" she'd said once. "Wonderful, too awesome! The invincible Shinji-sama! This just means we get to take it easy now, right?"

If I'd had to guess, I'd have said she sounded pleased that Ikari-kun bested both of us with his synch scores.

Sounded pleased. Knowing Pilot Sōryū, I'm certain she wasn't.

"So tell me." As we rode to Nerv in the major's car, Pilot Sōryū laid her chin on the headrest, twisting her body backward in the front seat. "Tell me: why would you call Shinji?"

I looked out the window.

"Miss Perfect doesn't do anything unless she's 'ordered' to, isn't that so?"

A utility pole passed by. I like utility poles. I like them because they're silent.

"So the commander ordered you to get in his pants?"

The major paled. "Asuka."

"What, Misato? Do you think Shinji could get a girl all by himself?" She looked to me again. "You should be careful. I bet if you kiss him, he'll just stand still like a mannequin, watching you with that empty stare of his."

"I think you should sit straight in your seat," said the major.

"Can't you see First and I are talking?"

"You're the one doing the talking."

Pilot Sōryū narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I suppose that's so, isn't it. I'm not the one who's a lifeless doll."

"Turn around, Asuka."

"I'm not done—"

The tires squealed. The car banked around a sharp turn at a hundred kilometers per hour.

I dare say both right wheels lifted off the ground.

"Have you forgotten who's driving this car?" said the major.

Pilot Sōryū sighed, facing forward. "You're ruthless, Misato. You'd threaten all our lives, and for what? To win a silly little argument?"

"Says the girl who started the argument."

I couldn't see Pilot Sōryū's reaction to this, but Major Katsuragi smiled slightly as we pulled up to the next signal. I can only imagine, then, that Sōryū didn't take it well.

"So why did you call us, First?" she asked. "Why were you looking for Shinji?"

"I wasn't."

A car behind us honked, startling the major. She pushed the accelerator, and we took off again, but at a much safer pace.

"You weren't?" said Sōryū.

"Doctor Akagi had told me she might want to see us for more tests tonight," I said. "I called to see if Major Katsuragi knew of those plans."

"You've been seeing the doctors and all of them a lot lately, haven't you."

I blinked. "Yes…"

"Synch scores and harmonics aren't like school, you know," said Sōryū. "You can't just do it over and over and expect to get better at it. You have to have talent."

"The tests aren't for my synch scores."

"Oh? What then?"

I looked out the window.

"Hey, First? I'm talking to you."

The metal guardrail glittered in the sun.

"You're terrible to talk to, you know that?"

Major Katsuragi snickered. "Conversations are two-way, Asuka."

"It's not my fault I'm talking to a silent doll."

You keep saying I'm a doll.

"Rei isn't silent," said the major, "but I'll let Rei speak for herself."

Why am I a doll to you?

"You mean not speak for herself," said Sōryū.

"The surest way to know a fool is to hear what he says when he opens his mouth," said the major. "To be silent is to be wise."

"I don't see anything wise about it: being mute like a doll and acting like the perfect teacher's pet. Or should I say commander's pet?" She leaned over the center console, watching me. "Well, First? That is why you pilot Eva, isn't it? Because the great Commander Ikari tells you to, and you're all too happy to obey?"

"No."

"Why then?" said Sōryū.

"It is my bond."

"To who? Him?"

"To everyone."

" 'To everyone,' she says!" Sōryū laughed. "At least Shinji I understand. He wants his father to praise him or some other kind of idiotic nonsense. Why would you want a bond with everyone? People are dumb."

"Asuka," said the major.

"Don't you people ever think about yourselves? Argh, that's it, isn't it? That's what I hate about the both of you. You won't take pride in what you do, what we do. You let others pull your strings, but how can you be any good if you put in none of the effort yourself? What good are any of you if you don't care about proving you can stand on your own?"

"Not everyone's afraid they'll fall down if their strings are cut," said the major.

Sōryū growled. "Honestly, none of you Japanese make any sense."

I think I could say the same of you. The Commander may still trust in you, the major may tolerate you, but that doesn't erase my doubt. Sōryū is dangerous. I cannot help but think something ill will happen for the way she pilots, the reasons she pilots. Her attitude is reckless, deluded.

Selfish. Why should one take pride in doing as one's told?

Ikari-kun wants his father's praise, Sōryū wants to praise herself, but to earn praise, mustn't one be worthy of that praise?

Perhaps that is why I can't do as Sōryū does.

We soon arrived at Nerv without further incident. Pilot Sōryū sprang from the car as soon as it halted, slamming the door on her way out.

"Well, if we must do more tests, at least I can get out of this itchy uniform and into my plug suit." She peered into the window. "You two coming or what?"

"Why don't you go on ahead?" said the major. "Rei and I have some things to discuss."

Sōryū frowned. "You're a terrible liar, Misato."

The major laughed. "You think so?"

"All right; have it your way." Despite her suspicions, Sōryū skipped off. She swiped her card key at the turnstile and disappeared down the escalator to Central Dogma.

"I have nothing more to discuss with you, major," I said.

"Maybe you don't, but I do." She watched me from the corner of her eye, peeking over the center console of the car. "You lied to Asuka just now."

"I did?"

"You said you weren't calling for Shinji-kun, but you were."

"I didn't believe Pilot Sōryū needed to know that."

"True, maybe it's better she doesn't." The major's eyes narrowed. "But I can't remember another time when I knew for sure that you'd lied."

"If you order me to, I will desist."

"You can do as you please between Asuka and Shinji-kun. I don't mind that."

I said nothing.

"It's secrets I mind," said the major.

"Secrets?"

"The Fourth has been found," she said. "Did you know that?"

I said nothing.

"Or maybe I should say chosen."

"The Marduk Institute did not discover him?"

"The Marduk Institute doesn't exist, Rei. It never did. Nerv's pulling all the strings."

"You're certain?"

"I may not trust my source in other matters, but in this, yes, I'm certain. Nerv is holding many secrets, I'm sure." The major looked up, to the rear-view mirror, meeting my eyes. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Major?"

"You're a secret yourself. Where did you come from, Rei? Who are your parents? Why does the Commander have such a keen interest in you?"

I said nothing.

"Well then," said the major, "that's what I expected to hear. I don't know what Commander Ikari has to do with you. I don't expect you to say anything. There are people, like Asuka, who say the only thing you care about is the commander, but that's not true, is it?"

"What are you suggesting, major?"

"I'm not suggesting, merely stating. Nerv can't be two things at once. Either we're here to fight and kill the Angels before they kill us, or we're just pawns to in a greater chess game, and you know who the king is. Sooner or later, Rei, you're going to have to decide: do you want to be white or black?"

She opened the driver side door. She encircled the car and leaned over my window, watching me.

"Tell him about this conversation if you like," she said. "But only if you choose to."

That assumes quite a bit, Major Katsuragi. That assumes he won't order me to, that his people aren't watching us at this very moment and know what we say, whether I tell him or not.

That assumes I have a choice at all. I don't. I have only judgment.

I looked back, watching the major go before me.

Surely it was Inspector Kaji who revealed this secret to the major. His actions are suspicious; the Commander already had reason to investigate him. The Commander will hear of this incident, and Inspector Kaji will be punished.

And the major?

The major knew I'd lied to Sōryū. She knew, yet she did not say. I can't see how it served her to be silent. If she disapproved, she could've alerted Sōryū and made the rest of the car ride … unpleasant.

But she didn't. I've been told Major Katsuragi can behave like more of a bona fide child than I. She can be reckless and risks much to kill the Angels.

She watches over us as we enter battle. When we come under fire and our lives are in danger, Major Katsuragi doesn't sacrifice lives to achieve her ends. She orders the entry plug ejected, to save the pilot, even if it costs an Eva. The pilot is precious to her. In her eyes, a pilot cannot be replaced.

For two of the three of us, she's right.

The Commander doesn't need to know who Inspector Kaji revealed this secret to.

And already, I've told another lie. This time, to myself.

We waited for half an hour, Sōryū and I, for Ikari-kun to arrive. Doctor Akagi suggested we sit in the test plugs to reduce any further delays. I think Sōryū preferred it that way, and I had no excuse to object. The only alternative was to wait in the changing room, and though I wished to speak with Ikari-kun beforehand, the changing room lacked something the test plugs did not.

A mute function.

But after the tests, rather than let him change with us, Doctor Akagi and Major Katsuragi quickly took Ikari-kun away.

"As I thought," said Sōryū, stuffing her plug suit in her locker. "Everybody had to know stupid Shniji's 'amazing' test scores would fall off. It was just a matter of time. I can't believe anyone's surprised."

I left the locker room quickly. For Doctor Akagi to remove Ikari-kun so hastily—could it be he was ill?

"Ill? Oh no, I don't think he's ill."

I found Doctor Akagi lighting a cigarette in the hallway outside the medical facilities. Through the doorway, the doctor's assistants examined Ikari-kun. They shined a flashlight in his eyes and tapped his kneecap, checking for reflexes.

"We just have to be thorough," said the doctor. "Shinji-kun's scores have dropped slightly, and I'd like to rule out any lingering physical ailment before we address the likely cause."

"The likely cause?"

The doctor exhaled, sending a puff of smoke down the corridor. "The major and I suspect Shinji-kun's not fully recovered from the incident with the Twelfth Angel. We'll bring in a psychiatrist to be sure."

"I wasn't aware Nerv had a psychiatrist on staff."

"Yes, well, he doesn't get quite as much work as I would expect. People can be stubborn that way. I've lobbied Commander Ikari to grant me power of medical suspension, but so far he has steadfastly shredded those requests."

I leaned to the side, peering past Doctor Akagi, into the medical area. "May I see Ikari-kun?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait," said the doctor, moving a step to block me. "This check-up could take quite a while and is best undisturbed."

"I see."

"You've become interested in Shinji-kun's wellbeing, I take it?"

I blinked.

"It's not a bad thing, you know," said the doctor, smiling. "People more easily fight for others than they do for ideals or for duty. I think the three of you would do well to embrace that and look out for one another."

People should bond with each other? That's not what the Commander said. "These attachments—they cannot interfere with your piloting duties. If they do, I will put a stop to them myself." Those were his words.

"Can they not become a distraction?" I asked the doctor. "In combat, do they not make us vulnerable?"

"Admittedly they can, but it's the difference between gaining courage to save another's life and feeling fear that you might fail." The doctor sighed. "We each have that capability within us, don't we? Shinji-kun is a good example." She held the cigarette between her fingers, tapping the ashes off. "He attaches to people too easily. He won't take this news well."

"So the Fourth has been found?"

The doctor raised her eyebrows. "News travels fast, doesn't it? Yes indeed. I believe you know him, don't you? Suzuhara Tōji-kun?"

"He is our classmate."

"And a friend to Shinji-kun. Tell me, Rei: do you think Shinji-kun will want to see Suzuhara-kun join your ranks?"

I said nothing.

"Well, as operations director, Major Katsuragi will tell him when she sees fit, and I won't interfere." The doctor frowned. "Is there something else I can do for you, Rei?"

"I require a refill of my prescription."

"Which one?"

"The pills, doctor."

"You should be set for another two weeks with the last bottle I gave you."

"I wish not to bother you in the future."

The doctor eyed me strangely. Did she suspect that that, too, was a lie?

"All right," said Doctor Akagi. "Just a moment." She ducked into the medical area, and through the gap in the door, I watched Ikari-kun proceed with more of his preliminary checkup. The nurses and assistants had sat him with his back to me; he wouldn't know I was present, and I thought, at the time, that was well enough. I did not want to have the conversation I desired here, with so many others to overhear.

But even since this afternoon, when Ikari-kun showed me his kindness, I felt that much had happened. I'd lied, several times now, to protect things I don't understand—and not both of them the same thing, either. On one side, the major was looking for secrets, and on the other, Doctor Akagi entrusted me with one.

"Something the matter?" Doctor Akagi slid through the doorway, my bottle of pills in hand. "You seem troubled."

"Is it right?" I asked her. "To keep the truth about the Fourth from Ikari-kun this way?"

"As I said, it's not my decision, but…" She leaned on the wall of the corridor, thoughtful. "I suppose we all have uncomfortable truths we have to face at some point. It's just a matter of time and place."

I nodded. "Is that why you showed me footage of the Unit-01 contact experiment?"

"Showed you—" Doctor Akagi's eyes widened. She shut the door to medical and glanced down the hallway in both directions. "Rei, I never showed you any such thing."

"But you did, doctor. You left it on your computer for me to see. You—"

She darted forward, clasping her hand over my mouth. "I didn't," she said, whispering. "I did no such thing. You understand?" She held the bottle of pills between us. "I did no such thing, and you will not speak of it. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." She placed the bottle in my hand. "Now run along. Shinji-kun will be a while. Perhaps you can see him tomorrow?"

"We have tests to run tomorrow."

"Ah." The doctor slipped out another cigarette and lit it. "So we do."

I left Doctor Akagi there, smoking in the corridor, as I made my way back home. She said we all face uncomfortable truths, and I can't help but think she was right. For me, the uncomfortable truth is that I have Ikari-kun's body, that I'm something that shouldn't be. But there's a truth worse than that.

Every day, I am alone. Some days more than others, but I'm always alone. I was alone when I walked to Nerv the next day. I was alone when Doctor Akagi and her assistants examined me. The scientists talk and smile sometimes, but not often. I think their smiles only hides the truth:

They don't think of me as a person. They consider me a thing. A doll, like Sōryū says. Only dolls wear the same clothes all the time.

"Ayanami?"

I met him by the turnstiles. I didn't expect to see him there.

"I thought you might be here," said Ikari-kun. "I didn't see you at school, but you're wearing your uniform."

"I have nothing else."

"Nothing else what?"

"To wear."

"You're kidding!"

"I'm not."

He shook his head. "Maybe I can ask Misato-san to take you out shopping, buy you some different clothes." He made a face. "Then again, I'd be afraid to see what she'd buy for you."

"My clothing isn't important," I said.

"Of course it's not 'important,' but you should have something that's yours," he said. "You need to take better care of yourself, Ayanami."

No, Ikari-kun, you still misunderstand. You think I'm important when I'm not. I do not need these luxuries. I do not need things to call my own. I only need what I must have to survive.

But that's the difference between Ikari-kun and the scientists at Nerv. Ikari-kun sees me as a person.

"Thank you," I said.

"Thanks? For what?"

"I didn't thank you properly when you came to my apartment yesterday. You were kind, and I should thank you again."

He smiled. "It was nothing," he said. "It's what anyone would do."

No, Ikari-kun. I don't think it is.

I bowed my head to him and went on my way.

"Ah, Ayanami, wait." He opened his school bag and offered a book to me. "Here, I owe you this."

It was a copy of A Tale of Two Cities, but where the library tag should've been, the spine was only lightly scratched and scuffed.

"I noticed you borrowed the copy you lent to me," he said. "Do you borrow all your books?"

"Nerv gave me my textbooks. Everything else I borrow, yes."

"Right, see? I thought so. It's exactly what I was talking about." He closed my fingers around the cover and smiled. "You need to have something that's yours."

There's that heat again. It flooded my cheeks. It burned to the touch.

"It's used," he said. "I hope that's okay. It's all I could find on short notice."

"It's more than sufficient," I said. "I shouldn't accept this."

"It's all right, really!" he said. "I want you to have it."

I held the book against my chest with both arms. "Then I will accept."

"Great! See you tomorrow?"

"Yes. I think I'll be at school tomorrow."

"That's good."

I thought the conversation would be over then, and I would've been glad for it if it had, but instead, I chose to linger while Ikari-kun swiped his card at the turnstile.

"Oh!" he said. "Speaking of school, I was talking to Kensuke today. He was saying something about Unit-04 in Nevada exploding. Had you heard anything about that?"

I nodded.

"He also said that Unit-03 was being flown to Matsushiro so we could test it. Kensuke thought Nerv might need another pilot."

I nodded again.

"Have you heard who it is?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just…" He looked down. "I'd hate for anyone to have to do what we do," he said. "Asuka might not mind it, but you and I both know—to pilot Eva is to suffer. When the Eva is hurt, we hurt. When the Eva bleeds, it feels like we bleed. Nobody should have to go endure that. I still don't know why I have to endure it."

The gate doors began to clamp shut.

"Ah, sorry," he said, stepping through the opening. "Maybe we can talk later?"

"I don't know."

"Eh?"

"I don't know who the pilot is."

"Oh." His gaze was distant. "Well, see you…"

The gate shut. Ikari-kun was gone. I can only hope he might forgive me for lying to him—or that he might never learn I knew at all. But that would be unfair. I realize now I've always been keeping secrets—about myself, about the Commander. My name is Evrémonde as much as it is Ayanami.

I think Ayanami, like Darnay, is a made-up name, too.

Author's Notes

It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been working on this story on the side, and I'm reasonably pleased with the results for chapter two. The first outline for this chapter was quite a bit shorter than the result, but I think the changes were for the better. Rei's journey toward becoming her own person is a slow one, but it's proving quite a lot of fun to write.

Anyway, for more detailed notes about this chapter and others, check out my blog at westofarcturus [dot] blogspot [dot] com