The employee lounge was always too cold for her tastes; most of NERV was too cold. Sometimes it made goose bumps rise on the exposed flesh of her legs and arms. She wouldn't give in to the cold of the sterile room that easily though.

No, her red leather jacket would stay on the dilapidated couch she'd thrown it on so she could trace the wrinkles in the material as she drank her… no longer even lukewarm coffee. She would've taken a seat instead of just standing there, but that horrid screeching noise the rusty springs inside made when compressing wasn't something she needed with her current migraine.

So Katsuragi Misato just stood there.

Stood there and smirked. Not a large smirk, a just barely perceptible one that formed only a ghost of a crease in her cheek.

"Trading one pleasure for another. Well, I won't be here much longer at least."

It was a tired thought from a tired, anxious mind.

She hated double shifts with a fiery passion, but it was… necessary. She sighed, a tired sigh, as she began to let her mind wander as her brown eyes steadily traced the lines of her red leather jacket.

Just like they had been doing for the last twenty minutes.

"Ugh… Where is Ritsuko?" She was beginning to grow impatient from just waiting there in that horrible break room. As it was she was beginning to wonder if the strange combined smell of antiseptic and old cigarettes would ever come out of her clothes.

Her friend was supposed to come and give her the latest report on Rei's status before she headed out to get the commander's son and youngest daughter from school so she could deliver the latest news to them.

But still…

It wasn't like the bottle blond to be late without a reason.

Her eyes moved off the coat and focused on the gaudy colors that adorned the vending machine across from her. It was advertising some sort of cola, but she didn't really notice what. Her gaze had shifted out of focus as she had become lost in thought.

"I wonder if Rei's wounds are worse than they thought. Maybe something happened and Ritsu has to stay and deal with it. That would make sense; after all, it was a really bad accident. I hope not though; Rei's a nice girl, and the family is already taking it hard. If they lost her I don't think little Kari would ever be the same, and Shinji… people are already starting to worry about him. He would probably still be at Rei's bedside if his father hadn't put a limit on his visitation time after the third day…"

"You must be tired," she knew that voice, cold and calculating but still human. She had completely missed Ritsuko's approach.

"I haven't gotten much sleep with all that's been going on."

"You sound it too. It isn't often that I can get the drop on you."

"Not in these hallways at least, they echo."

"They do, don't they," the way she said it sent a shiver down Misato's spine. It was so detached, so mechanical.

The silence that followed was heavy and stifling, bearing down on her until she wondered if she was even breathing any more or if she was being suffocated.

She couldn't handle it anymore; she had to break the silence. Whether it was some pointless triviality or asking to know what condition Rei was in didn't matter to her.

So she spoke. Well, asked really. She decided to kill two birds with one stone in the end. Still, it was the question both seamed to have been dreading, for their own individual reasons, but it needed to be asked.

And there's no time like the present.

"So how's Rei?"

Ritsuko sighed her own tired sigh as she slumped down onto the couch, the old rusted springs protesting with a loud, crunching, shriek, which caused Misato to wince at the assault on her cranial nerves.

"She's alive Misato, but that's it. God… the way the plug was thrown around the test chamber it's a wonder she survived at all. As it is she's got a severe concussion, a fractured ulna, and had massive internal trauma from the impact; we managed to fix that. The list goes on though…"

"Oh… but you've finally gotten her to stay stable?"

"Yes, finally, but it was touch and go for longer than I'm comfortable with."

"I see," that was really all she could think to say. She wasn't entirely sure how to act in situations like these.

She was glad Rei was all right, but Ritsuko looked so… dour.

She was even less sure when Ritsuko gave another sigh, long and shuddering this time, and bent forward on the couch to plant her elbows on her knees and rest her face in her palms.

"A classic pose of distress and human despair, yet I still don't know how to help her. She never lets me help her.

She's too self-reliant…"

Misato's internal fretting would go unnoticed and unheeded though.

Ritsuko was busy with her own mental anguish, her thoughts caught up in a whirlwind, and at the center of the vortex ran those terrible fears and worries that everyone has and everyone hides.

Her eyes swept back and forth behind her fingers, tracing the lines of the steel tiles without really seeing them.

"Everyone is still worried about Rei, but Rei is safe for now; we stabilized her. For her it's just a matter of time until she's all right again. The one I'm worried about is Kari. Rei is her role model, and, when you're Kari's age, nothing bad is ever supposed to happen to your role model. The poor kid's scared and confused and lonely. Gendo, Mother, and I are too busy either trying to help Rei get better or figuring out what went wrong in the first place to be there for her like she needs us to be. There's Shinji but Shinji is… well, Shinji.

I know he loves her.

I know he loves everyone, but he's so distant. Even more than he used to be, if what Rei told me before the accident is to be believed. It's tough to swallow though, from what she described it sounded like he'd turned his heart to ice, like he wasn't himself anymore," Ritsuko somehow managed to bury her head deeper into her hands. Her eyes had lost all semblance of focus now.

"I trust Rei but… it can't hurt to see for myself, right? Yes, that's what I'll do. Misato has to go pick up Kari and Shinji today; I'll just bum a ride with her, and see what's going on with Shinji for myself," she thought even as her eyes regained focus – she was staring at her shoes now – but she didn't lift her head from her hands

Ritsuko merely called out to her friend in a quiet subdued voice, "Misato?"

When an answer was not forthcoming she, at last, raised her head from the cage of her hands. Misato was blithely ignoring her; her eyes were slightly glazed over as she stared unwittingly at Ritsuko. It was really rather disturbing when she saw the look adorned on her friend's face. It was like she was looking at a corpse.

"Hmm… could you possibly look more creepy Misato?" it was one of those thoughts that just randomly flitted into her mind from out of nowhere.

Regardless, she had a goal now and Misato was going to help her achieve it.

"Misato?" she was a bit louder this time, but the good captain was still off in her own little world. Ritsuko shut her eyes and massaged her temples as her eyebrows began to twitch; it had been such a long day.

She really didn't need this, and especially not after having spent the last three days trying to deal with the bunch of hair-brained, filibustering, butterfingered baboons that passed for NERV's hospital staff. Ritsuko was, of all things, patient, but if there was one thing she absolutely and undeniably could not tolerate it was incompetence… well, that and being ignored.

She exhaled sharply, before breathing in, long and deep enough to feel the air chill the back of her throat.

And then letting it back out again with a sigh and a musing, "That would have been too childish…"

Instead, she got up, slowly, her joints protesting, and made her way over to her long time friend. She waved her finger in front of Misato's face; stopping it and letting it hover just in front of the bridge of Misato's nose. Not close enough to touch, but still close enough to be felt; it had something to do with electromagnetic fields if she remembered correctly.

"Ack! Damn it, Ritsu! You know I hate that," Misato spluttered as she snapped out of her daze. Her slightly agitated state about the methods of her interruption merely compounding the ease with which she noticed the slight, knowing smirk plastered on her friend's face.

"I swear, I don't know how you managed to get this position. You're rather predictable for a supposed tactical wizz."

"Just because I've always disliked something doesn't mean I'm predictable." Ritsuko almost laughed at the indignation in Misato's voice.

"Whatever you want to believe Misato," apparently she hadn't gotten as much of that almost laugh out of her voice as she hoped, if the glare she got for that meant anything. "Oh, don't be so petty, I'm just trying to lighten the mood." Misato saw through her smile though.

"Right… I'm assuming you have some kind of reason for going from 'Super Depressed Scientist Mode' to 'Let's go Bug Misato Mode' so quickly, right?"

"I do, actually. I was wondering if I could hitch a ride with you when you go pick up Shinji and Kari at school today."

"Oh, is that all? That's not a problem, but why do you want to come?"

Ritsuko sighed mentally, "So much for lightening the mood," she wouldn't burden Misato with the knowledge of her part in the unbalancing of her attempt though, so her voice remained impassive, "I just want to check on the kids myself. I know I don't need to but I'd just like to see them for myself, and besides, I kind of miss the little buggers."

"Well, alright then," Misato said as she checked her watch – it was a cheep little thing, black, with a simple digital display, but it did what she needed it to – and found that it was time to go, "We should get going now if we don't want to be late."

"Okay then," Ritsuko said with a smile.

"You're a bad liar Ritsu," Misato thought as she followed her friend out the door, "Things will get better. They have to, right? I mean it's not like Rei won't get better. This is just a temporary funk… yeah, that's it.

Everything will get better.

It has to."

Chapter: 02

The morning sun beat down on his head and shoulders. Trickles of sweat wound slow, meandering, paths down his brow in the form of tiny beads and soaked into his shirt, creating small, discolored. patches along his back and under his arms. His arms shook with the strain and he struggled to keep his balance as what seemed like every muscle within him burned with a furor that turned his vision red. His body cried for him to stop.

Shinji Ikari scorned its pleas.

They sickened him.

Memories I: A Realignment of Ideals or…

'The fire is the cleanser,' his thoughts overwhelmed his perception, drowning out the pangs of his frame, and the sounds of the gawking crowed that had gathered around the gymnast's rings to watch him, 'It purifies your soul, clears your understanding, and hardens your will.

It crucifies the weakness of the flesh, burns away the hindrances of the mortal coil, and leaves nothing but the raw furor and fervor of the righteous will.

The fire gives.

We must be wary though, lest the fire scour away even the soul within us,' the shaking in Shinji's arms grew in intensity. He tightened his grip and continued to recant the old verses of his for-bearers amongst the solitude of his thoughts, 'because without the soul the mind and body are nothing.

The fire takes.'

Shinji Ikari opened his eyes – he didn't remember when he had closed them – and looked out upon the spectators gathered before him before flicking his gaze to the caged clock mounted on the gym wall. He had been up on the rings for an hour. That would have to do for today; he slowly lowered himself out of the iron cross.

The crowd around him began to cheer and chant his name. They rushed towards him in sea of human jubilation and the padded scuffing of tennis shoed feet. He was entirely unprepared for the rush, for the gleeful turmoil that surrounded him. Bodies pressed against him, limbs writhed around him, and suddenly he found his feet being departing from the ground.

But, if nothing else, his forty-four years of experience had taught him to expect the unexpected. So he went with the flow and put on his best smile for the kids as some of the stronger boys picked him up to hold him above the crowd.

Silly children probably didn't even know where they were going to carry him off to. Still, he'd let them have their fun. They'd put him down when they got tired. He looked up from his supposed peers and realized that the small band was actually taking him to the coach.

'I keep forgetting how organized these little miscreants can be,' he chuckled in his mind. The chanting and whooping died down as they set him down in front of the coach. He actually was a little sad about that; he liked the chaos.

"And why exactly have we decided to give ourselves such a grand entrance?" the coach said in his calm know-it-all voice. The one most reserved for speaking to children. Shinji really could have done without patronization right then and there.

"Ask the crowd. They brought me over here," his voice carried pride, and his own measure of patronization. There would be no niceties for this infidel, not from Ikari Shinji.

"Oh, did they? I hadn't noticed," the man's insolence was becoming steadily more and more unbearable, "All right boys, why'd you decide to drag Mr. Ikari over here to me?"

"Come on, coach, you know that he had to have just set a new record up there! No one's ever held an iron cross that long before!" ah, yes, his adoring fans.

"Hell, he's probably one of maybe five people at this school that can even do it at all!" they loved him now. Everybody loved him now, but just wait.

The love of the people is a fickle mistress.

"Okay, okay, he was up there for an hour, right? Let me write it down and we'll send it in to the office so they can put it on the record board," again with the insolence, he really could not stand that man.

It didn't matter though. The good coach's time would come, and as the crowd dispersed he couldn't help but chuckle. He might yet have a hand in that, and even if he didn't he had his imagination, right?

'Maybe a .50 cal rifle? Yeah, with some of those old Harathin incendiary detonation rounds. One clean shot and,' he lined up the coach's heart in his minds eye, 'boom! Torso all over the wall, some bone fragments here or there, tissue and blood everywhere. God, he wouldn't even know what hit him. It'd be fuckin' amazing,' that thought made him smile one of the sick little smiles that he reserved only for himself. That is until he turned his head and saw the man's face with its omnipresent condescending look, 'What I wouldn't give to crush that pompous ass like the insignificant little maggot he is.

Always looking down on everyone. Not that I'm any better, but at least I'm discreet about it,' he grit his teeth with his lips closed. There was no way in hell he was going to give the coach any more satisfaction that he already had. He let his thoughts run wild on the way back to the showers.

He would have more than enough to meditate on tonight.

It was such a shame too, he had been nice and calm and centered after he'd gotten down off the rings. A hot shower would help though, but it seemed he'd have to wait until later for that.

"Ah shit! Cold! Cold! Cold!"

"Suck it up Suzuhara! If you can't handle a little cold you can't handle shit."

"Hey, f-fuck you S-Shinji," ah shit, he was stuttering, "they t-turned the boilers o-off again."

"Really? That's gay," friendly banter, but the school was seriously getting cheap. That was the second time this week. They couldn't possibly be that desperate for cash, not with NERV's backing.

Principal was probably taking a few 'special benefits' on the side.

'Bastard,' Shinji thought as he entered his stall, 'This is gonna be, oh, two degrees above freezing. Whatever though,' he turned the knob, 'I've been through worse with…'

Acute hypothermia was not on his list of things to experience today, "Holy shit!"

"What I tell ya? Colder 'en hell."

"Touji," he wouldn't stutter in front of the jock, "for the love of god, shut up," he would grit his teeth and clench his eyes, but he would not stutter, "and go make sure Aida doesn't d-die." 'Mother fuck!'

Touji smirked at Shinji's slip, "You're losin' it man. You're losin' your touch," he looked about, an almost pensive look on his face, "and where is Kensuke anyway?"

"Listen to the s-screams you'll pick him out of the pack e-eventually."

Touji sighed, "Yeah, eventually," they were most certainly not the only ones who noticed the distinct lack of warm water, "this school officially sucks balls, man."

"Touji, all schools suck balls. That's just a fact of life," Shinji said as he stepped out of the stall. He had cut his shower time much shorter than he had intended today.

"Do they suck as bad as this one? Seriously, you'd think they could afford the basics these days."

"Touché," he smiled an honest smile. The jock could have his moments, 'even if he is just a falsity,' and there was his random, morbid, thought of the day. Shinji kept the smile going – even though the sincerity had died somewhat – as Touji yawned and wandered off to rescue their bespectacled friend from the 'freezing death' as the showers where known amongst the boys of 2A.

Shinji let his smile fade from a toothy grin to a neutral baring of his upper teeth once the jock was out of sight. His locker door gave a low, quiet, clank as he rested his head against it. He stared into the dim, pink, metal, further shaded by his arm over his brow. Shinji slid his tongue across his teeth stopping on his top canine. Its dulled, jagged, edge was all at once familiar and alien to him. It nagged at him at first, how he didn't have his little trophies anymore. It had never really stopped nagging at him.

'I miss my old six point fangs. They were much more intimidating, and I went through hell and back to get them, too, damn it. They were a mark of pride, the medal of my first truly noteworthy accomplishment. They were…

No, I got them once; I'll get them again. I can't afford to let myself get caught up in the past like that,' Shinji reigned in his thoughts. 'What was it Ozi always said? "It's a dangerous path to tread, the boulevard of the past," or something.

'Bastard loved little sayings like that,' Shinji took his head off the locker and yawned. He clenched his jaw closed tight, though, fighting the natural impulse to open his mouth. Victory over your own body was still victory.

As Shinji opened his locker he noticed for the hundredth time how spartan it seemed when compared to the other lockers. He knew some of the other boys enjoyed putting up pictures of their favorite actresses and models. Maybe their girlfriends if they were lucky enough to have one. Hell, even Touji had a mirror, but he had no use for such frivolities.

He made no effort to hide the contempt of his thoughts from himself, 'The magazine cutouts are childish, the mirrors are signs of vanity,' he smirked as his thoughts took on Touji's voice for a moment, ' "You really should get one Ikari. God knows, ya fiddle with your looks more than I do half the time." He's always telling me that, isn't he? Damn jock.

I hate it when he's right.

Whatever,' he looked to his right, at the open locker of one of the other boys. The kid was one of the lucky few that had managed to snare someone of the opposite gender, 'What's his name? Taro? Or was it Ichigo? It doesn't matter. I don't know the girl either. I wouldn't mind doing that, though, putting up a picture of that special someone.

I don't get to do that though,' he dried himself, taking what brief solace he could from the disruption of his thoughts caused by the stimuli of the rough terrycloth towel chaffing away his flesh. It wasn't much though, 'I abandoned her unto death. I can still remember the look on her face. Just before...

It wasn't right.

Why did she smile?

She should have scorned me, screamed at me, spit in my face, anything but what she did,' He dressed and moved to the mirrors in front of the restroom section of the locker room. The tiles on the floor were discolored in the corner, just under the sinks, most people wouldn't have noticed such a small thing, but Shinji did.

He chalked it up to being one of his little idiosyncrasies before continuing his line of thought, 'Or maybe she knew, that of all the things she could have done, what she did would wound me most,' he stared into the scummy depths of the old, porcelain, sink.

The hairline cracks in it leading towards a small, grungy, puddle in the center, where some wannabe rebel had stopped up the drain with a wad of gum.

The janitors were getting lazy.

Regardless, his gaze played the part of the captive fly and the murky cesspool played the spider. It hypnotized him, slowly, inexorably, drawing him into a lucid memory that he had no desire to return to.

He could see it all, the great stone pillars, black as obsidian and shining like glass in the dim light, stretching off in all directions, the high vaulted ceiling he could just barely make out, and the darkness. The darkness was omnipresent there, always fighting against the torches and the lamps, terrible and choking.

And there she was, all alone and cold and hurt. Bleeding to death on the dusty, onyx, floor. She had tried to defend the indefensible, and she had tried alone. He hadn't been there. He had promised he'd be there!

Shinji clenched his eyes, but when he opened them she was still there. Only now he was kneeled down next to her, holding her up close to his breast. She was still smiling. He could only barely hear her whispered words, so soft and low, so weak.

He didn't want to remember this again; he didn't want to lean in close to her. He didn't want to feel her lips pressed against his own, so soft and, and, they were so cold.

Shinji knew above anything else that he didn't want to taste the sickly sweet taste that pervaded her mouth. Her lifeblood, flowing from her body, staining his tongue red. She smiled again, as he pulled away, his body no longer his own. He had no control of the past.

"Why? Stop smiling. Please," he looked into her eyes, "please, for the love of god, stop smiling at me! Hate me! Loathe me, curse my name, tell me that I failed, anything, but… just, stop smiling at me! I failed you! Please, tell me I failed you. I can't accept another answer.

It would be to much to bear," Shinji's thoughts refused to leave his mind. He couldn't make his lips move. He couldn't stop her from saying it.

It was only two little words with seven little letters.

But that's all it took to destroy him. To crush his soul, and shatter his will irreparably. He was finally given his voice again as she breathed her last. Shinji did not use it though; there were no words in any language he knew for what he so desperately wanted to convey. That fact only added to his suffering.

As it was his soul was torn, a terrible, terrifying, ache settled deep within his chest. It soaked into him like thick, black, mire. Spreading from his core out to his extremities, filling him with mortal agony. It stuttered his breathing, it rocked his body back and forth slowly, gently, and it shook his lower lip with an almost imperceptible tremor. It was so natural.

Oh, it was so, so, natural and right and…

"Human," the voice thundered through his mind, like a thousand gunshots ringing out as one. Like so many thunder crashes, tearing at his consciousness. If Shinji had not known better he would have sworn, in that moment, trapped in the hollows of his mind, that he heard the very voice of God.

But, Shinji knew better.

"It's so very human, what you feel. I would tell you not to be concerned with that, but tell me why I can't Ikari?" the voice was still like thunder, deep, with power and age. Shinji didn't look up from the still face of his lover as he answered.

"I am no longer human. I have forfeit that aspect of myself and gained accordingly," he said without enthusiasm. He was preoccupied with watching the contours of her face. He refreshed his memory now; she would fade with the rest of his dreams soon enough.

"And what did you gain?" the voice was smug, yet expectant. He didn't need to look up to know that the rough, short bearded, face was adorned with a cruel and knowing smirk.

The master was testing his apprentice.

He took one last look at his lover's face before closing his eyes and further bowing his head. The pain was gone from him now, seeped out as quickly as it had come. In its place the cracks in his armor had been mended, and Shinji understood. He let his secret smile spread across his face, small and cruel, but his. Then in a whisper he answered his teacher's latest question so that only he could hear it.

"What was that Ikari?" the voice of thunder was openly amused now, but it had no mirth. It was a cruelty laced with violence, audible challenge. It was the terrible and soul crushing voice of a devil. Shinji obliged his mentor, and leapt to his feet, the body of his lover bursting into ash and dust on contact with the floor, a dream and falsity.

"One devil for another, Ozirinth," Shinji saw the glint of madness flash through the man's eyes, and knew that the devil standing across from him could see the same unholy sheen in his, "I traded my humanity for power overwhelming."

"Indeed," the thunder of Ozirinth's voice became a dim rumbling and his volatile smile turned into a tamer smirk, "and mighty you were, but don't forget that in returning you have also returned to your pathetic state of humanity."

"I suppose I should thank you. I needed a wake up call like this, didn't I?"

"Sometimes, my son, you require a little," Shinji's mentor paused, as if in search for the right word, "a little realigning."

Shinji held his head high before replying, "I understand, father."

He would not be found lacking before his adoptive father.

"Do you, Shinji? Go, you know what to do. The others and I will be with you soon."

Shinji bowed his head and closed his eyes, as was custom, "I understand."

Shinji Ikari opened his eyes.

The stain on the floor tiles in the corner seemed a little larger now. No matter though, it was just a trick of his eyes and…

"What do you understand Shinji?"

"What does anyone understand Kensuke?" he kept his hands on the edge of the countertop for a moment, trying to reorient himself before he turned to face his bespectacled friend with a calm smile.

"Don't try and get philosophical with me, Shinji, we both know you're not deep enough for that transcendental crap," the boy rested his shoulder against the small partition between the locker section and the restroom section, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Kensuke Aida was still the shortest of the three stooges, and still rather gangling, but all that mock training he did out in nature would pay off down the line. Shinji knew that all too well.

"So sure of that Aida? And don't worry about it, it's nothing."

"It's never nothing Shinji," the boy adjusted his glasses, pushing them further up the ridge of his nose.

"Humph, now who's getting philosophical?"

"Don't be facetious Ikari, I'm serious."

"You two gonna stand there blabbering all day, or do you actually enjoy the smells?" Touji chided them as he passed by on the way out of the locker room. He was right too, the locker room had a smell all its own, a strange mix of cheap, yet overpowering, deodorant and sweat.

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming," Kensuke said as they moved to follow the jock out the door, "But, seriously, Shinji, you seem a little off lately. Touji and me just want to know what's up."

"Eh, well Ken," Shinji opened the door for both of them, "It's not really something you would be able to underst-" the doors slammed closed after their exit, cutting off Ikari's voice, and a calm silence flooded over the locker room.

The tranquility would leave with the coming of the afternoon classes, but, for now, it was quiet, so quiet.

I Truly...

The uplink monitor light on the screen blinked.

Hikari Horaki watched it disinterestedly, head rested lazily in the palm of her hand with brown eyes half closed. Technically, as the class representative, she was supposed to break up any unauthorized conversations on the school's system. Technically, anyway. She knew who it was, though; they were the same three knuckleheads that were always chatting instead of listening to the lecture. It wasn't as if she could actually stop them either, if she broke up the instant messaging sessions they would just revert to hushed whispers, or, if all else failed, passed notes.

She sometimes wondered what would happen if she stopped even that. She shifted her eyes back to the teacher as a little scenario in her mind had the stooges taking up morse code. It would actually have been interesting to see if Aida and Suzuhara actually had the patience to learn that. It wasn't like the teacher would notice anyway.

Her computer let off a series of short, quiet, high pitched beeps. Hikari's gaze wandered lazily back to her screen, and found a new message from one Shinji Ikari.

'The stooge king speaks,' she thought to herself, 'you'd think he'd have better things to do than bug me during class with all the crap that happened recently.' She opened the message and her eyes quickly scanned through the digital text. It had only four words, yet with those four words Hikari felt a tingle climb slowly, inexorably, up her back. Starting just above her hip.

'So, "We need to talk," huh? Straight and to the point, just like old times. Guess that means this little city's gonna start getting interesting, isn't it, Shinji?' she couldn't keep the grin off her face at that thought. Even if her eyes never got more than half-open.

Her eyes flicked briefly between Shinji and the clock mounted high on the wall. Fifteen minutes left until the twelve o' clock lunch bell rang. Various different scenarios cascaded through her mind, some of them nice, some of them mean, and some of them of a decidedly less than pure nature.

She was a healthy young lady again, after all; it wasn't like she was denied fantasizing from time to time. Her eyes remained half closed as they slowly drifted in the direction of another stooge, though her grin began to lean a little to the lecherous side.

'Maybe both of them? Just once? Hmm," Hikari closed her eyes and put her head down on her folded arms – rested on her desk – as she let her lecherous grin become an even more lecherous smile as she thought, 'I can feel it now. Ikari and his magic hands oh so gently doing their thing while…' Her eyes snapped open and her head snapped up as a noise interrupted her little scenario, "Damn bell," she cursed under her breath.

As she got up she stretched and let her face return to its norm of half-open eyes and a slight, mellow, smile. No use being angry at the bell for very long. After all, it meant she could talk to Shinji, whom, incidentally, had apparently already left the room. No matter though, Hikari knew where he was headed, even as she herself exited the room.

'You really are rather predictable, Shinji Ikari. You really are,' she thought as she walked down the stark hallway. She had managed to achieve a kind of lethargic yet lilting grace in the course of her bodies fourteen years, though it was ultimately a carry over from her last shot at this timeframe. Still, it drew the attention of most of the boys, even if they were sometimes just fleeting looks.

The scuffed tiles of the floor, off white from heavy use – if not age – drew close and passed by with Hikari's steady pace. The door to the roof loomed before her, unusually ominous that day. However, she wasn't one to fret over such little contrivances, and she opened it without hesitation when she reached it. The composite metal handle was cold to the touch for such a warm day.

It didn't matter; it was probably just the air conditioner giving the halls more love than the rooms. The stairwell itself was always just a few degrees above freezing, which was a blessing in disguise on hot summer days like this one. Only the stooges and her really took advantage of it, for some reason, which is why Hikari knew exactly where Shinji Ikari would be waiting.

Except Shinji Ikari wasn't there. She found old gum wrappers, an empty bottle or two, and some scraps of paper hidden in a corner for god knows what reason, but for all she had expected; the middle Ikari was nowhere to be found in the dust and dim of the stairwell. It was a most aggravating prospect really.

'I suppose he's out on the roof, then,' she thought with a mental sigh, her small smile fading slightly, 'How he can stand that furnace is beyond me.' Hikari opened the door with some trepidation, as the thought of going outside into the midday heat seemed unsavory to her, but her curiosity over what Shinji had to say won out in the end.

The door opened with a low groaning creak, stuttering because she opened it quickly. The difference in air pressure between the stairwell and the outside world forced a blast of air past her, fluttering her skirt. Hikari cringed as the heat struck her with a sudden omnipresence, and couldn't help but be reminded of opening an oven while it was on.

And, of course, there was Shinji standing by the railing looking out at creation like it wasn't hot enough to hard-boil an egg just by leaving it out.

"Hey, Shinji!" Hikari called as she neared him, "What are you out here for?"

"Oh, there you are," he said rather disinterestedly.

"Sheesh, you could at least try to sound a little enthused about my being here."

Shinji turned around and leaned on the railing while Hikari came up next to him. He tilted his head back, training his eyes on something past the deep blue sky. Shinji kept them there as he answered, "I have something important to tell you."

"I figured that much out already. So please, feel free to enlighten me as to what's been going through that head of yours," she said it playfully as she leaned up against him. He didn't respond, "Well?"

"I spoke with Father today."

"I thought you spoke with Gendo every day?"

"You know who I'm talking about, Hikari."

She turned so that she had her back leaned against the railing. She looked at the ground for a few moments before straightening her skirt. Her voice was subdued, any trace of bemusedness gone when she spoke, "I can't," she paused and looked at Shinji, his features unchanged, "I don't… are you sure it was really him?"

"Yes. I must admit though, I thought you would be happy about this. Unless, of course…" Shinji turned his head ever so slightly in Hikari's direction. His face remained angled at the sky, but she could see his eyes now, looking at her. He smiled slightly as he let the thought hang.

"Unless what? Unless I enjoy not having to fight for my life at any given moment? Unless I enjoy not being someone else's puppet?" she was speaking curtly now; "I can't stand Ozirinth. I hate him. He's evil, Shinji, even by our standards," she grew quiet. If the broad grin now on Shinji's face was any indicator – as it usually was – then her words had only served to amuse him, and so she sighed in defeat and bowed her head, "You knew how I'd react all along didn't you?"

Hikari had failed his test.

"I did, and I must say I'm disappointed."

Again.

"Why?" she hated it when he made her feel like this, when he made her voice tremble, made her feel like a child again.

"Because we both know you liked it. You liked it just as much as I did. The freedom, the power," he moved closer to her, "the chaos," Shinji embraced her, "the blood," she could feel his breath on her ear.

"Sh-Shinji?" it was barely a whisper.

"Or maybe, just maybe, it was the sensation," he spoke, and the tip of his tongue traced a small circle on her neck before his lips made contact.

They were so soft.

"Oh, god. 'I've… wanted this,'" the words and the thoughts came to her simultaneously, though the words were decidedly more coherent.

So cruel.

"Hmmm, I thought so, Hikari." he slid a hand down her back, his mind unfazed, 'and the death of innocence comes not with the strike, but the caress.'

So gentle.

'What a beautiful devil you've become, Shinji Ikari, such a beautiful devil,' it was the last coherent thought Hikari would have for the next hour and a half.

If either of them noticed the door to the stairwell quietly closing they didn't care. Yet, with its closing, so too was shut a door deep within a naïve boy's heart.

A part of Touji Suzuhara died that day, and Kensuke Aida didn't quite know how to fix it.

Author's Notes

So this is only, what? four months late?

Forgive me of this travesty and accept as a peace offering my humble apologies and the knowledge that the prologue and first chapter are being revised for improved "unfailure" and will be released soon. Of course by soon I hope that I mean soon as in soon as opposed to another four months from now.

regardless, My status of non-ownership of Evangelion remains the same.

Furthermore, expect some backstory on this Ozirinth character in the next chapter. As well as plenty of delicious Evil Shinji introspection.

Of course I owe much of my "unfailure" to my prereader Himonky (formerly Himonky2012) and my quasi-prereader Fresh C. Check out their stuff if you have some spare time. Fresh C's Breathing Room is delightfully twisted, and Himonky's new Dissection is a beautiful work of weird.

Wouldn't recomend 'em if they weren't worth a read.

any formatting errors I didn't catch can be contributed to FF.N's upload program. It fails without excuse.

completed: September 8, 2007

uploaded: September 11, 2007 ( We Will Never Forget )