NGE: A Century Apart

by Archangel38

Different times make different heroes. What is the the impact of 100 years of human history? An Alternate Universe, created under the premise that the Angels attacked in 1915 instead of 2015.

7. Chapter 7

Aboard Imperial Japanese Navy Airship Soryu

On course towards Tokyo

September 15, 1915, late afternoon

An odd sense of deja-vu coursed through Shinji. A few hours ago, he had been dreading the outcome of a dangerous and quite possibly lethal confrontation. Now he was doing much the same, standing in the briefing room of the Soryu and waiting for Captain Ryouji and the German Evangelion crew to join him. And he was already wishing that it would be over.

There were two conflicting opinions doing battle within his mind. On the one hand, he couldn't really be found at fault in their defeat. It had been foggy, his Evangelion had been stuck in the mud and he had been forced to make a hasty attack on the enemy to save a comrade. Given the last battles, it had been entirely reasonable to assume that the monster would be alone. Anyone in his situation would have made the same mistakes.

On the other hand, the Emperor had entrusted him with the only weapon capable of killing these monsters, and he had failed in his duty. Honor demanded that he took responsibility, admitted his failure and asked to be relieved. Perhaps they could find someone better suited for this job. Either way, his career had probably taken a turn for the worse today. He chuckled a little - only a few hours ago, it had looked like he might die a hero's death on the field of glory. Certainly that was the highest fulfillment of duty, a sarcastic part of his mind commented. No one ever criticized the dead for dying.

Staring at the map of Japan pinned on the wall, he wondered if he hadn't been mistaken about the nature of his duty. Everything he had been taught pointed to death on the battlefield as part of his duties, should the situation require it. That the situation required it was, of course, taken for granted. But now he wasn't so sure. Whether he had wanted to or not, he was probably one of the few people in the Japanese military who were qualified to pilot an Evangelion into battle. Had he died on the field today, who would have replaced him? It was a somewhat disturbing thought, that he could actually be required to run away from battle if victory could not be achieved. But it was, at least, an argument to be made in his defense. Certainly, that was how Captain Ryouji would see things as well. Had the Captain not ordered him to fight as hard as possible, and not to sell his life cheap? If so, then a death in battle today would not have helped the defense of Japan any.

The possibility of being stripped of his position still stung, however. Despite the horror that combat brought with it, being found unfit or incompetent to serve in a front line unit hurt the ego he did not even know he possessed until now. Over the last few weeks, he had found himself taking a perverted sense of pride in his position as pilot of Japan's only active Evangelion, which made giving it up a great deal harder.

The door flew open, and something resembling a live grenade stormed inside.

"YOU!" von Zeppelin shouted from the top of her lungs, "YOU! Have quite a bit of nerve to show up here! Rarely has one seen such insolence, such incompetence, such sheer and utter stupidity! This is your fault! It is entirely your fault! I won't take the blame for this! I won't! And once my government hears of this outrage, you can watch your career sail off into the sunset!"

Shinji sighed. He was not yet sixteen, and he already felt too old for this. "You're welcome." he said, feeling no particular reason to reign in his sarcasm today. He felt a headache forming, he had slept little, eaten less, was utterly exhausted and had also almost been killed only hours earlier. Decency, patience and politeness could wait until breakfast tomorrow.

"What would I be thankful for, baka?" von Zeppelin spat back. "Your little antics cost us the battle. It was a perfect example of the stupidity I have come to expect of this outfit. He was in the perfect situation to win the fight, and he blows it because he did. Not. Think."

"Enlighten me", Shinji said, still trying to keep at least a minimum of politeness in his voice. It was getting harder with every word.

"You had the enemy in front of you, and you charged without thinking! Did you honestly believe, did you honestly believe, that I would be beaten by a single enemy? Obviously I was ambushed! But no, my name is Simon, I know better! I'm a tactical genius! Watch me storm in like a complete idiot and get my face punched in! The Imperial Navy comes to save the day!"

"Shinji," he said, "my name is Shinji."

"Whatever. You're going to be Ensign Stupid from now on."

"So I should have just left you there to die?"

Von Zeppelin's mood shifted from a raging firestorm to an icy blizzard in an instant. The look in her blue eyes seemed to chill the very air between them. He involuntarily took a step back, his back pressing against the wall, but von Zeppelin immediately pressed her advantage, moving closer to him until their faces were only millimeters apart.

"What?", she said icily, "Do you think I am some kind of damsel in distress?" She grabbed the collar of her uniform with both hands, holding her rank insignias up for him to see. "Does this look like a dress to you? In case you had not noticed, these things mean I am a Lieutenant of the Second Guards Hussars of the Imperial German Army, and last I checked you were just a shitty little trainee of some second line outfit. Did you expect me to wander around the battlefield, begging for a handsome, industrious and polite Japanese Ensign to save me, no save me, please, there is a most terrible monster coming after me? Grow up, asshole. I would rather die than be saved by the likes of you!"

"Did you just call me handsome?" he asked, while part of him marveled at his own stupidity.

"Don't be a baka," she said testily, "that was just an example."

She turned around and stomped off, and in the short moment he could see her face, he could have sworn that she was blushing. But, obviously, he had to have imagined things. It had clearly been a flush of exertion, he decided, because von Zeppelin probably wasn't even able to blush.

"Girl trouble?" a new voice asked next to him, and Shinji looked over to see her Copilot, nursing an amber drink smelling strongly of alcohol. Where he had found it, Shinji had no idea, but finding alcohol in unlikely areas seemed to be his greatest skill. He looked a little pale, but seemed quite good natured otherwise.

"I don't understand how this was my fault." Shinji answered.

"Well, you are a man. She is a woman. That means it is naturally your fault." He laughed, but Shinji couldn't quite see the humor in it. "For what it is worth, I am grateful for your rescue. But I do agree with her - your first priority should be to kill the enemy."

"But I tried!", Shinji retorted angrily. Did the Germans all think he was some snotty-nosed, untrained school boy, snatched up at a train station somewhere to be placed in the cockpit of the Evangelion just at the whim of his father?

"Oh, don't worry about it too much. We live to fight another day. That is also good. And don't worry about her, either. Asuka just needs to prove to everybody how tough she is. She got beaten, and that angers her more than anything. As soon as she is back in the fight, she won't ride you quite as hard." He chuckled. "Unless you ask her, of course."

Von Zeppelin had to have heard that last comment, because a shriek of feminine rage cut through the room. Looking over, Shinji saw her giving them both the most foul look he had ever seen from her.

"Guess now I am a baka, too", the German said, and wandered off to take a seat in the second row of chairs. Von Zeppelin moved to sit several seats away.

Moments later, Captains Ayanami and Ryouji marched into the room, the latter carrying a piece of paper. Judging from the look on his face, the news were not good. He moved to the small podium at the front of the room.

"Good news first:" he said, his face showing that he didn't consider the news anything but dire, "the Army says they have stopped the enemy with minimal casualties. Apparently, poison gas is somewhat effective against these things."

"So that's it?" Shinji blurted out without waiting for the Captain to finish, "We just had to gas them?" He could hardly believe his ears. All this time, while countless people had sacrificed themselves, they had had the solution to their problems in their hands! Unbidden, he remembered the smell of the burned soldier in the hospital bed after the battle with the cube-shaped monster, limbless and spending the last few moments on earth in unimaginable pain. He felt an indescribable bitterness well up inside him as he swallowed the bile that had risen together with the memory. It could have been avoided. All of it could have been avoided.

"That is the bad news:", Ryouji answered, "It looks like it isn't quite dead. The Army reports that the monster advanced into the gas cloud, slowed down and then stopped. However, it still shows movement and seems to be recuperating already, despite the shelling. I have dispatched a request for comment to Dr. Ikari back in Tokyo. Hopefully, she will have something more definite when we arrive."

Why Ritsuko should be the one he would ask, Shinji had no idea. Surely the University of Tokyo would have someone better suited to comment on the biology of marine lifeforms. Granted, she was the First Home Defense Fleets Chief Medical Officer - but these things had so little to do with humans that, in his opinion, the chief veterinarian officer would be just as able. Probably more so, even.

"As for us, we are going back to Tokyo for refit and repairs. I intend to attack the enemy again as soon as repairs are finished and destroy him before he can advance further." He looked at Shinji, then at von Zeppelin, who glared at him. "Now, I would like your opinions of what went wrong. We probably won't have time for the usual paperwork and report-writing, so we will do it here and now." He didn't sound too unhappy about it. "Ensign Ikari, please."

Shinji drew himself up to his full height and gave his crumpled uniform a little tug to straighten it. He had always considered Maneuver Criticism to be his strongest suit - it was always easier to analyze what had gone wrong after the fact than it was to do it right in the first place.

"Well, I would put it down to two factors, really. One was the poor weather, which made finding the enemy difficult and resulted in a separation of force leading to a defeat in detail. The other was the unexpected complication of enemy numbers. This is the first time the enemy attacked with more than one unit. It was a foolish mistake to make, but probably unavoidable given the past battles." It was a common saying that the military always prepared to fight the previous war, because it was so difficult to predict just how things would change.

He waited for Ayanami's quiet translation to end. Even from where he was standing, the tremors in her body made it obvious that Mount von Zeppelin was headed for a major eruption. He was not disappointed. Ayanami had barely finished her translation when the German pilot leapt to her feet.

"Lies! Lies!" she screamed, oblivious that she was shouting in French, which meant that Ayanami couldn't translate and Ryouji would not understand her. "I will tell you what the damn problem is! That idiot" - she pointed an accusing finger towards Shinji - "doesn't know the first thing about Evangelion combat! He threw away a perfect tactical advantage because of his stupid concept of personal honor. That is the damn problem, right there! You guys think this is some sort of chivalry contest instead of a fight to the death! It's more important to you to look like you are doing something than it is to actually fight properly! As long as you won't approach this rationally, you are going to lose time and time again, and I will have no part in that!" After she had finished her tirade, she turned on her heel and marched straight out of the room, slamming the aluminium door for good measure.

"Well?" Captain Ryouji said to Shinji, his voice wary beyond measure. Shinji decided not to make matters worse than they already were. Although his patience with von Zeppelin's antics was growing short as well, her words did give him pause: What if he was approaching this whole thing wrong? She had been wrong about the whole honor thing, of course, because as far as he could remember, he had never done anything in the Evangelion because it was honorable - but the accusation that he hadn't been entirely rational was harder to shake. He barely had time to think things through in combat. Perhaps she had been right, and this would mean more defeats in his future. A sobering thought, given that every defeat carried the chance of death or crippling injury, and that they were the last - and really, only- line of defense.

"She agreed with me" he finally said. Ryouji looked skeptical, but said nothing.

"Very well. We will discuss the new battle plan when we reach Tokyo. Dismissed" he said and left the room, Ayanami trailing in his wake. The German simply took off his boots and lay down across the empty row of seats, while Shinji went to find a place to have a bit of solitude, and to think.

Keel Residence

Munich, Germany

September 16, 1915, early morning

They sat in silence around the table, each of them hidden by his own cloud of tobacco smoke and trapped in the maze created by his own imagination running rampant. It had been a long night, and they weren't as young as they used to be.

"Well," said one of them, "if we lost, we'd know by now." No one answered.

A few days ago, the team translating the Dead Sea Scrolls had stumbled across the date of the next attack. After double-checking it, debating about the correct translation of certain terms, cross-checking it against historical evidence, star charts and ancient calendars and ultimately waiting for the right moment, they had finally sent a message to Japan to warn them.

"It is foolish to trust Ikari like this. He has full control of all information that comes to us." said another. A few murmurs of agreement came from others. They had made the same argument time and time again during the night, while they waited for news from Tokyo.

The last news from Ikari had been a terse message that both Evangelions had been dispatched to deal with the Angel, and that contact would be made by early morning local time, which meant early evening in Germany. After that, nothing. Was the battle still underway? Was it over? Had it even taken place? In the desert of information they were in, everything seemed at once possible, but improbable. Over the long hours, they had visited and revisited every argument for or against any conceivable outcome.

"Measures have been taken to ensure a second channel of communications from within the First Home Defense Fleet." Keel said, as he had done several time before. They were running in circles now, as they had for most of the night.

"I still say that we should replace Ikari with someone closer to the society." said a third. Keel fought to keep his eyes from rolling. "And we should push to get access to the Katsuragi girl. She, and she alone, knows what happened." The room descended into silence again.

"It is imperative that we, and not the Angels, control the reclamation of Eden." said the first one again, after a few minutes had passed. Privately, Keel agreed with him. It was basic military logic to try and maintain the initiative rather than be forced to react. Unfortunately for them, they were forced to do just that. They could only endure. The last test before mankind made good the mistake of Adam and Eve. One had to earn one's happy endings, after all.

"Ikari will keep them from achieving it." Keel said. "He is devoted to his country and will stop at nothing to see it saved. For now, our interests run in the same direction."

"What about the Urija option? We must know what happened at the pole. It might get her to speak..." said the third.

The second snorted in disgust. "Knowing the Japanese, it might also drive her to suicide instead. Then we would never know. And besides, she was only a child back then. She probably doesn't comprehend what happened" he said.

"I fail to see the difference between not knowing because she doesn't talk or not knowing because she is dead, to be quite honest." answered the third.

A knock sounded from the door. Keel rose on aching knees and went to open it. His servant stood there, holding out a dispatch. Keel took it with a shaking hand. The delay was ominous indeed. He tried to tell himself that it was probably just technical difficulties with the transmission. He was not entirely successful. Keel waved the deaf man away and closed the door.

"A message from Admiral Ikari." he said, "It reads: First attack has failed, stop. Forces falling back on Tokyo for final defense, stop. Inform me of new developments, stop."

"The insolence of that man!" shouted a fourth, who had so far remained quiet, "Does he think we are his lackeys?"

"Ikari must be brought to heel." Keel agreed, "But not now. To do so during an Angel attack would jeopardize all we have worked for." The men nodded in silence, chewing on unlit pipes with worried faces. Failure against the Angels! It was the stuff of nightmares. Everything hung in the balance now. And there was nothing they could do but wait. It was a little ironic. Usually, it was them who pulled the strings. to be powerless like this was a feeling they had almost forgotten. Perhaps, Keel thought, they weren't masters of their own destinies after all.

"Even if he has overstepped his boundaries," said the first, after a few minutes had passed in silence, "we must consider sending more forces. Our victory against the Angels must be secured, for if we lose against them, we lose everything." Once more, the others nodded their agreement. "I should have thought that sending the production type would be enough." said the third, "How are we going to justify sending another to the public?"

Keel frowned. It wasn't that they couldn't do it - they had steered German policy through far more radical course changes - but it might bring more attention on them, and attention was not something they wanted. For now, the German public thought the war against the Angels something far away, something that only concerned them very tangentially, something that wasn't really a war at all. It had been bad enough when an Angel had sunk several ships during the Battle of the Japanese Sea (as it was known), some of which had been lost with all hands. But that Angel had been killed, and the thirst for revenge had been sated. To send a second Evangelion - or perhaps even a third, to bring the strength up to full squadron of four and allow Ikari a greater deal of flexibility - would raise questions. Questions they would rather avoid being asked, like who or what they were fighting. Better to keep the people happily ignorant, or, failing that, occupied with other, more imminent threats - like France. Of course, that raised the problem of looking like they were stripping their defenses in favor of helping the Japanese. They had to find a different approach.

"We can arrange for the Americans to send a unit" said the first, "but it must be kept secret." One by one, the others nodded. It was agreed, then.

First Home Defense Fleet Headquarters, Office of the Chief Operations Officer

Tokyo, Japan

September 16, 1915, early morning

"Dancing." Shinji said, as calmly as he could. "We're facing a giant enemy who can split in two and you want me to dance." Once again, he wondered if Captain Ryouji was an exceptionally good SNLF Officer or an exceptionally dumb one, and if those two were really mutually exclusive.

"As I said, Ikari. The problem, it seems, was one of coordination. I have Hyuga working on a way to build a radio set into the Evangelions, but he said it'd take weeks and would probably only work half the time. So we have to come up with a way to coordinate two Evangelions without them talking to one another. You two need to trust each other blindly. Each of you will have to know instinctively what the other will do. And we don't have much time. Therefore, dancing. Besides, Ikari, come on. Cute girl in your arms. Soft music. Why, anything could happen!" He forced a winning smile.

"Permission to speak freely?" Shinji asked after a moment's consideration. Ryouji nodded. "Sir, have you met von Zeppelin?" He nodded once more, his winning smile vanishing in seconds. "And you still consider this a good idea?" Of course, Shinji realized, the Captain wasn't the one who would have to break the news to von Zeppelin. Suicide missions were usually left to the lower ranks.

"You don't?" Ryouji asked. Shinji pondered his answer for a second, trying to find a way to make 'No, and I consider it insane' sound more polite. "I..." Shinji began, playing for time.

Ryouji gave a sigh and rubbed his temples while Shinji quietly congratulated himself for remaining firm. Dancing. How far had the Imperial Navy fallen that dancing was now its last, best hope of success? "Listen, Ikari, if you have a better idea on how to beat the enemy, I'm willing to listen."

Shinji chewed on his lip in thought. "Well, we fought the first battle under very poor conditions..."

Ryouji waved him off. "The attacker chooses where and when to fight. I know you want to tell me to just wait here and let them come to us. War doesn't work like that." Shinji frowned.

"With due respect, Sir, I am very confident that we can beat them as long as we fight on firm ground and with good visibility, as opposed to fog and mud like we did last time."

Ryouji snorted. His facial expression had turned distinctly sour, and Shinji wondered if he had overstepped the unspoken boundaries that existed between them. "So, Ensign Ikari, graduate of His Imperial Majesty's Naval War Academy, considers the proper strategy for the ultimate battle, on which the survival of the entire nation of Japan rests, to be 'Lets hope the weather is nice and the enemy is stupid.' Marvelous, Ikari. A strategic masterpiece, if I do say so myself. Clearly, the nation has nothing to fear as long as as men like you are there to defend it." Towards the end, his voice had been dripping with condescension, and Shinji could feel his face heating up.

He said nothing. Ryouji's comments were not entirely without merit, a traitorous part of him commented. It was true, he had essentially based his plan around the assumption that the enemy would make a mistake, such as not coordinating close enough. That was not, in his opinion, entirely unreasonable - Wars, a teacher had once told him, were won by the side that screwed up the least. He had no doubt that they could each beat one of the enemies by themselves. And had he been of a higher rank, Shinji would have commented that at least hisplan didn't involve dancing.

Ryouji bent forward, placing both hands on the table, pushing himself up and staring Shinji down. Shinji could feel his mouth go dry. Ryouji was sporting a look unlike anything he had ever seen on him. It was downright...professional. "Ensign Ikari, this is not a request or a suggestion; I am orderingyou. You will learn to dance with Lieutenant von Zeppelin, or I will see you punished for high treason." Shinji could feel cold sweat break out. High treason was a tall order. Insubordination, he could understand. Unbecoming conduct because he was arguing with a superior, maybe. But Ryouji was, apparently, willing to have him shotbecause he refused to dance!? Considering his superior's well-known animosity towards all forms of paperwork, his willingness to go through an entire court martial for something that seemed so silly did make Shinji reconsider. For what it was worth, the Captain obviously believed that it was absolutely necessary to their victory.

"Now, Ikari, will you follow that order, or do I have to do something I'd regret?" he said in a low voice. For a brief moment Shinji wondered if the rumors about SNLF officers and their informal policies in combat zones were true. His eyes involuntarily settled on the Captain's sidearm. Disobeying soldiers, it was said, would be shot for cowardice if they refused an order in combat. And deployment to Tokyo, he suddenly remembered as his stomach turned to ice, was officially considered just that. He nodded, well aware that he probably looked like a proverbial rabbit staring down a snake. Then, with courage bordering on the suicidal, he opened his mouth.

"I would like that in writing, please."

There was no way he could face von Zeppelin bare handed and survive.

First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Junior Officer Housing Area

Tokyo

September 16, 1915, late morning

It was an odd feeling of apprehension that ran through him as he stood before the door to the room assigned to von Zeppelin. Being a woman, she had originally been assigned a room with the Naval Auxiliary Service. Naturally, von Zeppelin had not taken it well at all and had complained about it in her usual fashion, so she was now housed in one of the few rooms left intact in a battle-damaged building. In effect, it meant that she had most of the building to herself, a luxury normally reserved for officers far above her rank.

Which was to say that she considered it barely adequate.

At the moment, however, Shinji was quietly glad that she was living a little secluded. It meant that there was a smaller chance that someone would see him make a fool of himself. He had been standing in front of her door for a good twenty minutes now, wracking his brain for a strategy to survive the coming battle. He was feeling sillier with every passing minute, yet for some reason, he could not bring himself to knock just now. In fact, he was very busy finding new excuses to waste time, checking and rechecking if his uniform was in order. For a brief, mad moment, he wondered if he should get some flowers.

If pressed, he would have found it difficult to say just what was holding him back - he had the written order he had asked for and had even taken the liberty of adding a French-language translation so von Zeppelin could understand it. But that would have been necessary anyway, since Captain Ryouji's handwriting left a lot to be desired. Standing before her door he was feeling the same sense of dread normally reserved for those restless hours before a battle.

He had gone through the rigorous training at the best Officer Academy in the country, which prided itself on its comprehensive curriculum, and which claimed to have prepared him for all eventualities of service. Why, he despaired, had they never taught him how to deal with these kinds of situations? How was he expected to deal with them if no-one had seen fit to teach him?

He shook his head sadly, pushed any thought about the various failures of his education to the back of his mind and gathered his courage. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. Seconds stretched into eternity as he waited for a response, desperately pondering if it would be acceptable to knock again, or if he should take the hint and leave. Then he remembered that he was not actually here for her pleasant company. When had the words 'pleasant' and 'von Zeppelin' even entered into the same logical construct?

Just as he was about to decide that she was not in her room and leave to search for her in the hangar - making the prospect of delivering the orders all the more terrifying since it would probably have an audience - the door opened, and a slightly irritated von Zeppelin looked at him, idly rubbing at an ink stain on her finger.

"We must dance" he said, holding out the folded order. Von Zeppelin looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and slammed the door shut. In hindsight, he decided, his choice of words was perhaps not as good as it could have been. In fact, it had been downright idiotic.

All things considered, however, it had gone better than expected, he decided. No one had been killed or maimed. A rare occurrence in military matters, as well as matters concerning Germans in general and von Zeppelin in particular. Looking down at the paper in his hand, he sighed. Defeat was not an option. He knocked again.

The door flew open, revealing a somewhat more irritated von Zeppelin. "I'm under orders..." he began anew, but the rest of the sentence was swallowed by the crash of the door slamming in his face. He felt his eye twitch ever so slightly. He knocked once more. The door flew open once again and von Zeppelin glared at him, arms folded across her chest.

"Look, baka, the correct way to do this is asking 'Lieutenant von Zeppelin, would do me the honor and the pleasure of gracing me with your presence for a dance?' Since your French is so bad, I will even allow you to say something like 'I would like to dance with you'" she said. In an act of greatest magnanimosity, Shinji decided not to inform her that he had, in fact, finished his French lessons as third-best of a class of forty cadets.

"I have to admit, though, that claiming to be under orders is a somewhat cute but immature idea. But I don't dance with boys who need to hide behind such things because they lack courage. If you want to dance with me, ask properly, and then maybe, maybe, I will consider it" she said, slamming the door slightly less forcefully this time.

Shinji took a deep breath. His eyes quickly darted up and down the deserted corridor on either side of him. Then his hands darted forward and clamped down around the neck of an invisible, red haired girl, crushing her windpipe, squeezing the life out of her ethereal body. It was with savage satisfaction that Shinji imagined the life leaving her strikingly blue eyes, her trademark smirk vanishing from her lips as she died. As soon as the urge had come, it was gone. Shinji took a deep breath and put his uniform in order.

Tactics. The smart officer, the Academy had taught him, made a plan and then forced the enemy to conform to it. Von Zeppelin had assumed that he was here on a private matter and had hidden behind a made-up order. Part of him idly mused how it might be to ask her for a real dance, maybe sometime when they weren't between battles. After all, this war was going to end one day. It was easy to be courageous enough to ask her out in a daydream. But, he reminded himself, he was here on orders and also actually wanted as little to do with her as possible. Thus, the option of playing along with her delusions was out of the question.

He knocked once again and drew himself to full attention. The door opened, and a very bemused-looking von Zeppelin stared at him as he delivered what had to be his smartest salute to date. "Orders for you, ma'am." he said, holding out the folded paper. Von Zeppelin rolled her eyes and grabbed the sheet of paper. "That is in Japanese." she noted dryly as she unfolded it. "A nice try, though. But really, you couldn't find something that looked a little more official? This looks like a letter. To your mother, perhaps?" Shinji almost bit a chunk out of his cheek as he bit down to keep his composure. "There is a translation at the bottom", he said as calmly as he could. "In your handwriting" she answered with a smirk.

Shinji took a deep breath. "I assure you, Ma'am, that I don't take the least amount of pleasure in doing this." He tried to look sufficiently unhappy to be here, and found it quite easy. Something in von Zeppelin's face shifted, and for a second, he thought he could see something like disappointment on it. There was a pang of guilt somewhere in the back of his mind, and for a silly moment, he was about to blurt out an apology, an assurance that he had not meant to hurt her, and that of course it would be an immense pleasure for him to take her out to dance. He blinked, and it was gone.

"Orders, hmm?" she asked, examining the paper once more, reading slowly as if to find the one small mistake that would give his game away. "Well, I suppose this does look official" she said, holding the slip into the light. Shinji had no idea what she was looking for, but if it meant that they could finally move past this farce, he was all for it. "I have a letter to finish. I will be in the hangar in 20 Minutes, for our..." she said, her lips curled into a cruel smile, "dancing lessons."

And with that, she slammed the door in his face again. Softly, Shinji rested his aching head against the cool wood, and wondered why he couldn't work with a normal girl for a change.

First Home Defense Fleet, Tokyo Base, Hangar 2

Tokyo

September 16, 1915, about half an hour later

He paced the length of the hangar like a rat in a cage. She was late. Of course she would be late, his mind assured him, because that was the course of action that would maximize his embarrassment. Captain Ryouji had planted himself against one of the giant doors and looked less and less friendly with every passing second.

In Shinji's increasingly paranoid mind, Ryouji's glances through the hangar had started to look as if he was choosing soldiers for a firing squad. Salvation came at last when he spotted a certain red mop of hair across the grounds. Von Zeppelin seemed in no hurry to get there. A short glance to Ryouji's towering form showed that his face had darkened even further.

Shinji briefly considered running over to her to get her to hurry up, but decided that it would show an entirely inappropriate amount of enthusiasm. And besides, it wasn't like von Zeppelin would actually hurry up just because he asked her to. So he settled for mentally willing her to go faster. The effect was about the same.

"And here I thought the Germans were supposed to be very punctual." Ryouji said as von Zeppelin strolled into the hangar as if she had just come over for a casual visit. He started to move towards the blackboard set against the hangar wall. Shinji moved to follow him, tactfully deciding that he was not yet supposed to translate. No need to spark yet another incident, after all. Suddenly, his mind noted that he was going to be dancing with her. This would not have been as bad had he known how to dance. He wondered if it was really too late to argue the point with his commanding officer, because now that the deed seemed imminent, it sounded even more terrible than ever.

"I'm sorry for being late," von Zeppelin said cheerfully in French as she fell in with them, "But I think ten minutes won't make much of a difference, anyway." Shinji remained quiet. "So what's all this, then?" she asked, making a gesture towards the blackboard towards which the Captain was leading them. "I thought we were going to be dancing. I got all excited, even" she continued with a smirk, and Shinji shuddered at the thought of her being excited. He still remembered the last time he had seen her excited, when she had tried to break in the giant sea monster attacking the fleet like one would a common horse.

"Right." Ryouji said and cleared his throat, "I am now going to brief you on the offensive operation that will commence in no less than 10 days, the goal of which will be to engage and destroy the hostile creature currently immobilized near Akita." Ryouji paused to let Shinji translate. Privately, Shinji was most glad to hear the news. 10 days were plenty to learn how to dance, and would reduce the time he spent with von Zeppelin every day to a minimum.

"As well you know, the enemy proved very agile during our last engagement, and defeated both our Evangelions without suffering any casualties. I have read both of your reports, and concluded that the enemy exploited a known weakness in the Evangelion."

"Yes, yes, it is blind to the rear, everyone knows that." von Zeppelin interjected at once, "That is why you have more than one unit or supporting infantry to cover the blind spots. Obvious." She glared at Shinji and gave a little huff of annoyance. "Come to think of it," she continued, seizing on this new topic, "where is the Army in all this? Even if the enemy comes from the sea, surely the defense of the land falls to the Army." Shinji translated dutifully. Ryouji looked at him, then at von Zeppelin, making an expression like someone watching a man iron a penguin. Shinji privately agreed. It was so obviously stupid that it was actually hard to make a coherent reply as to why.

"The Army," Ryouji finally said in measured tones, "has informed us that they would prefer not to be involved in Navy operations after the battle of August the First, which cost them most of their heavy artillery. If I decide that the Evangelions need support, it will be provided by the Special Naval Landing Force." His voice made it clear that he considered the discussion over. Von Zeppelin narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

"Therefore, both Evangelion pilots - that means you - will train to act as a cohesive unit and learn how to effectively cover each other's backs. Since the movements of the Evangelion are modelled off of a human's, it has been decided that dancing is the best method to achieve that level of coordination." Von Zeppelin narrowed her eyes and made a face as if she was trying to dislodge a grain of rice that had gotten stuck between her teeth. "Frankly", she began and Shinji mentally prepared himself, "I don't see the reason. There are proper procedures to train coordination between Evangelions, we don't need this-" she made a dismissive gesture towards the blackboard-" 'dancing' stuff."

"And those procedures can be learnt in a few days?" Shinji asked, knowing that his superior would undoubtedly have asked the same question.

"Depending on the level of training of the pilots involved, yes" she answered and narrowed her eyes at him. He knew what was coming now. "So, Ikari, how much multi-unit training have you done?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet. For a second, he considered telling her that he had extensive knowledge of them and had, in fact, written the respective training manual, just to see her reaction. But considering that his life was on the line, he decided to go with the truth after all.

"None" he said and noted with some satisfaction that her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Why did he enjoy getting a rise out of her so much? "Baka" she muttered under her breath, then turned to the captain. "Objection withdrawn" she said with the air of someone facing a thankless and disgusting task, "although once again it is your deficiency that stands in the way." In the interest of international relations, Shinji opted not to translate the second part.

"Right." Ryouji said, shooting Shinji a questioning glance that he decided to ignore, and turned to the blackboard. "You'll train in a variety of dances. The goal isn't to get you to learn one specific set of movements, since the battlefield is a chaotic place and the enemy's movements can't be foreseen. Instead, we'll work on getting you two used to each other's movements." He turned around with two small books in his hands. "These contain the dances that I expect you to master in the coming week. After that, we should have three days to train the whole thing with the Evangelions" he said and handed each of them a book. "Make no mistake about it. We've only got one shot at this, so we have to get it right the first time."

"You have the rest of the day to learn the steps." he said, looking at each of them in turn. Von Zeppelin gave a little huff as if she considered the whole thing nothing more than an annoyance designed to inconvenience her personally. "You will be back here tomorrow morning at 0900 hours. Dismissed."

First Home Defense Fleet, Junior Officer Housing Area

Tokyo

September 16, 1915, late afternoon

The setting sun cast its rays across the base, giving the buildings a reddish glow. Shinji had always enjoyed these moments of peace, and in the last few months, he had come to appreciate them even more. He was in no particular hurry to return to his room, after he had spent most of the day memorizing the steps in the little book he had been given. He had even tried to move through them, after he had found a secluded spot.

He wondered how anyone could look graceful doing it, since he had thought he had looked completely ridiculous. Perhaps it was different with a woman. The thought made his stomach clench painfully. Knowing von Zeppelin, she would probably have extensive dancing experience, and she would make sure he knew it, too.

"Oh! Lieutenant!" a woman's voice called out. He looked up and mentally scolded himself. Eyes on the horizon, the teachers at the academy had always said, and stop staring at your shoes. When he noted the brown hair and the Army uniform, he found himself cracking a smile.

"Still an Ensign, I'm afraid." he said and saluted. Kirishima turned around in surprise, as if she expected to find a higher officer standing behind her, then returned the salute with a sheepish smile. For a second, Shinji felt an unfamiliar, confusing sensation somewhere below his navel.

"I keep saying, they don't reward excellence in the Navy," she said, "I can't believe they're keeping you at the lowest rank even now." Shinji shrugged. His was not to reason why. Then he noted a large duffel bag by her feet.

"So, Lieutenant, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here?" he said, folding his hands behind his back in the casual at-ease stance that had the completely unintended side-effect of subtly disabusing her of the notion that he might carry it for her. It was one of the tricks one learned in the Academy, where the senior students had almost total power over their juniors.

"Well," she said with a warm smile, "Someone higher up decided that the coordination between Army and Navy needed some work, and with that setback you guys had a few days ago, the Navy was forced to accept a liaison officer." She looked at him apologetically. A part of him noted that she had used the word 'setback' instead of calling it what it was, a disaster. Normally, an Army officer would have taken the opportunity to rub it in - he would certainly have done so. Perhaps not to her, specifically.

"That will surely be helpful, especially with the Army holding the enemy in place." he answered carefully. "I'm looking forward to working with you." He was answered with another smile that made him feel slightly strange. He couldn't quite place the feeling, although he was suddenly quite aware that his uniform wasn't sitting quite as well as it should. He wondered if he should straighten it.

"Thank you. I promise you, I'll do my best to get you all the support the Army has to offer!" she said. Shinji felt laughter bubble up inside him. Part of him wondered what was happening. For a moment, he actually felt as if spending more time with the Lieutenant would be a real treat. Then he remembered that he still had to prepare for tomorrow.

"Well," he said, "I guess I can't ask for more than that. Now, ma'am, if you'll excuse me..." He turned to leave. Right at that moment, one of his roommates came out of the building. Aida spotted them immediately and drew himself to full height.

"Oh, Lieutenant!" Kirishima called out from behind Shinji.

"Ensign" he reminded her. His roommate threw her a parade-ground salute. But for some reason, Shinji noted a flicker of annoyance pass over his roommate's face. This was surprising, since Aida was not the type to be annoyed about any female company at all. But he knew better than to ask.

"Lieutenant...Kirishima, was it?" Aida said, looking every bit the exemplary soldier. It was almost too comical to Shinji to keep a straight face. Aida usually complained incessantly about the endless drills he was subjected to every day as part of the Navy's Junior Officer Reserve. Kirishima smiled at him, and another pang of that unfamiliar feeling went through him. He frowned slightly. He wasn't...jealous, was he? No, he decided, that would be silly. But suddenly he didn't feel quite as willing to spend more time here. He had a battle to prepare, after all.

"Lieutenant," he said curtly, nodded, and left them behind.

"So, er, do you need help with your bag, ma'am?" he heard Aida ask, and wondered quietly how close he had come to sharing that fate. Women made such strange creatures of men.

He made his way up into their room. Suzuhara was there, but he looked nothing like his usual self as the imperturbable SNLF candidate. He was obviously greatly agitated, marching up and down the room, wringing his hands nervously and peering into the small mirror on the table. He adjusted the cap on his freshly-shaved head, looked again, and pushed his uniform cap back into its old position. Shinji observed him with growing amusement, until he realized what had been bothering him about the sight.

"You know, I don't mind lending you my sword, but I'd rather you asked me first" he said in measured words.

Suzuhara jumped at his voice and turned around, a smug grin on his face. "No need for that, now" he said. Suddenly, his nervousness seemed to have been replaced by arrogant confidence. He appeared downright glad for the opportunity to get his mind off whatever was bothering him. Shinji frowned. He would have expected at least an appeal to the duties of one Ensign to another, rather than blatant theft.

Then his eyes fell on the sword leaning against Aida's night table, and he understood.

"They finally came through for us. Took them damn well long enough." Suzuhara said, turning back to the mirror and adjusting his cap once again. "You know, I don't particularly like Germans, but I am thankful for you taking us along for the ride." Finally satisfied with his appearance - or at least resigned to its inadequacy - he stepped away from the mirror. "Sword at my age, now Hikari has to agree" he said, more to himself. He didn't sound as if he fully believed it, and privately, Shinji thought his doubts well-founded. From what he had gathered over the weeks, the girl didn't seem to be someone who could easily be pressured into something they didn't want.

Suzuhara left, and Shinji quietly wished him the very best of luck. He would certainly need it.

First Home Defense Fleet Base, Hangar Two

Tokyo

September 17, 1915, morning

Hangar Two had been set aside for their training, while the crews in Hangar One worked around the clock to restore their Evangelions to operational status. They stood next to a dinky record player which had mysteriously appeared there over night. Von Zeppelin studied it with a bemused interest, and Shinji could not shake the feeling that she considered it something of an historical artifact that was interesting to look at from an engineering standpoint, but which served no useful purpose anymore. He had the distinct impression that it had been requisitioned from the home of an Admiral or an officer's mess somewhere. The Imperial Navy didn't actually possess such items, opting to spend the money on things that were better at killing people. A record player was considered an undue luxury that only made the sailors weak, insolent and quite possibly homosexual. Which was to say that every Admiral had one.

He had spent the night in a state of growing apprehension. His roommates had returned late, both quiet about their respective experiences. It had suited him fine. Shinji hadn't really wanted to talk anyway. Not with the prospects looming ahead.

Von Zeppelin glared at him as if she was expecting something. Of course, he reminded himself, he was the man, so he had to lead. Or something to that effect. Dancing, from what little he had seen of it, seemed to be designed to give young men like him an opportunity to look extraordinarily foolish.

If the fate of Japan hadn't hung on it, he would have refused the dance. At least that was what he told himself, because he could not deny that there was a certain attraction to the thought of dancing with von Zeppelin. She seemed to have taken - and subsequently broken - the hearts of most of the younger sailors on the base, and now she had been on his mind a lot lately. He tried to reason it away as being perfectly normal, since they worked so close together and in the same profession, but recently he had started to suspect that this was perhaps not all there was to it. And that thought disturbed him greatly. Even if he entertained the frankly absurd notion that she might feel the same about him, there were dozens of very good reasons why any kind of courtship was a terrible idea.

First among them the simple fact that she hated his guts.

"Can we get on with it today, or do you need an extra invitation?" she spat, and any tender feelings that may have snuck into his mind vanished like an unattended bowl of rice in the Academy's messhall.

Shinji took a deep breath and took his position in front of her. Her blue eyes were cold as ice as she locked them onto his. Not one muscle moved in her face. Asuka von Zeppelin looked ready to kill. His hand gripped hers, the other went to her waist, and for a split second he saw something unidentifiable in her eyes, too fleeting for him to really catch. Then her mask of iron professionalism and cold efficiency was back in place.

He briefly wondered how he ever could have harbored even a sliver of a hint of a shadow of attraction for her, and preemptively gave his condolences to the poor man doomed to become her husband.

The music started to play, and they started to move. It was so much harder than the book described it. He desperately tried to remember how the steps went, as von Zeppelin seized the initiative and dragged him through the motions. He tried to keep up, but after a few seconds he was hopelessly lost and just tried to keep his footing. He looked down to try and avoid stepping on her feet, reasoning that it would be better not to annoy her too much.

Then she shoved him.

He sputtered in confusion, trying to properly articulate his utter lack of understanding why. She slapped him, her face suddenly transformed into an expression of sheer, unbridled fury.

"You tried to look down my blouse!" she roared, "Unbelievable! Here I am, going out of my way to help you make up the giganticfaults in your training and you go and ogle me like a ten-Franc whore! The nerve!"

She took a deep breath to continue her tirade, when Shinji seized the opportunity to get a word in edgewise.

"There wasn't much to look at!" he shouted back, realizing as the words left his mouth that he had just made a major mistake. He should have been reasonable about this, should have pointed out his true intentions and worked to salvage the situation.

But on the other hand, she should have given him the benefit of the doubt, he reasoned.

Von Zeppelin's face took on an impressive shade of red, like an overheated kettle ready to burst. Never before had he seen such sheer, unbridled hatred in someone's eyes. The second slap followed instantly, and Shinji privately admitted that he might have deserved it. It had certainly been predictable.

Von Zeppelin stomped off to the rear of the hangar, growling curses and hissing in German like an ill-tempered teutonic cat. Shinji decided to give her some time to cool off and went to leave the hangar.

As he was about to leave, he came face to face with Captain Ryouji and Lieutenant Hyouga. The former gave him a grim look, while the latter watched them with both eyebrows raised. Neither of them moved as he walked past them. Only when he was almost around the corner did he hear the Captain's weary voice.

"Can you believe that these people are supposed to win the war?"

First Home Defense Fleet, Junior Officer Housing Area

Tokyo

September 17, 1915, late evening

His face still burned, as did the rest of his body as he finally crawled into bed. In Von Zeppelin's defense, she had eventually cooled off slightly and accepted his explanation that he had not tried to insult her modesty by looking down her shirt. Shinji did, however, elect not to go back on his comment about her figure, since it would have been hard not to sound lecherous about it, and he had a good idea what she did to people she considered perverts.

But that did not mean that they had made any progress in their training. Von Zeppelin still raged constantly about his inability to keep up with her, and she seemed utterly unwilling to slow down even the slightest bit for him. To some degree, Shinji even accepted her reasoning, but he wondered if there was any point to it when the difference between their abilities was so great. There was just no way he could match her pace in just nine days.

Sighing deeply, he rolled over to try and get some sleep. He would need every ounce of strength come tomorrow.

"Girl trouble, eh, Ikari?" came Suzuhara's voice from the darkness.

Shinji said nothing. He quietly grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his head, trying to ignore his roommate.

"You can tell us, you know. It's the German, right? I thought I saw you two together, but I must have been wrong, because you were dancing."

"Dancing?" came Aida's voice from the other end of the room.

Shinji gave a mental groan. "It's classified." he said, hoping to forestall any further questions. Of course, he might just as well have asked the tide not to come in.

"Classified? Dancing?" they chimed in unison.

"That has to be the worst lie I have ever heard. Look, Ikari, if you don't want to admit that you are into her, maybe you should come up with a better story." Suzuhara said. "You don't gotta worry, we're an easy-going bunch here. I mean look at Aida, he has a thing for Army girls." he continued, sounding like he was telling him about one of life's greatest perversions, like the notion that fishheads weren't fit for eating.

"Its not like that..." the young man in question replied weakly, "She's just...look, she doesn't know anyone else here, and we're all on the same side, right?"

"Certainly, certainly" Suzuhara said, somewhat absentmindedly.

Aida rallied for a counterattack. "Besides, who are you to hand out advice? You proposed twice and you were turned down twice!"

"I wasn't turned down!" Suzuhara countered angrily, "She said she needed some time to think it over!"

"That's pretty much the definition of turning you down."

"I just don't get it." Suzuhara continued as if he hadn't heard the last comment, "What is her problem? If she doesn't want to, why can't she say that?"

"Women." Shinji offered. It seemed like the logical thing to say. It had been the standard reply for this kind of question back at the Academy. Women were fundamentally unknowable creatures which could not be understood using common logic.

"Exactly." Suzuhara said before rolling over, obviously considering the discussion finished.

First Home Defense Fleet Base, Hangar Two

Tokyo

September 19, 1915, morning

It was not going well, that much was obvious. Von Zeppelin had already arrived in a foul mood, and his apparent incapability of improving overnight had not helped matters. Now she was once again dragging him around while he stumbled about helplessly,glancing down to avoid her feet every other second. Her eyebrow had started to twitch, and he knew that an eruption was only minutes away. But like a man seeing an out of control steam engine barreling down the tracks, he could do nothing but watch and try to stay out of its way.

The fact that Captain Ayanami and the German copilot were with them today didn't make it any easier. Shinji could feel his face heat up with every misstep. He had to look completely idiotic, he thought, and wondered what deity he had offended to suffer this fate.

The other two had looked on in indifference and amusement, respectively, at first. Then the German had said something to Captain Ayanami, and within minutes they were sweeping across the hangar floor in a display of perfect synchronization. It was maddening to watch.

Captain Ryouji walked in, and Shinji wondered if today could possibly get any worse. As was usual with such questions, fate quickly provided an answer. The frown on the Captain's face deepened as his eyes moved between the two pairs in the hangar. Shinji could see why: their compatriots seemed infinitely more capable than them. He could only hope that the Captain remembered that the dancing was just the means to an end. Their dancing performance was, after all, not representative of their fighting ability.

"Ensign Ikari!" he shouted, not looking his way. His eyes were fixed on Captain Ayanami's swirling form.

Shinji gladly took the opportunity to get away from his partner, who was only seconds away from a renewed outburst.

"Sir?" he asked, holding himself ramrod straight. If Academy had taught him anything, then this was a situation wherein one should give his superior no opportunity to find further fault.

Ryouji frowned even deeper, practically scowling by now, and wordlessly held out a slip of paper. Shinji took it. It was a radio transcript, and the contents chilled his blood.

Enemy is moving again and engaging our forces. All weapons show no effect. We will hold until the last man. We only pray that our sacrifice will be enough.

Nippon - Banzai!

"That's from the 44th Infantry Division." Ryouji said absentmindedly "We haven't heard from them since. A recon flight reported a lot of smoke at their last known position, but no bodies. Just a lot of red mud. The radio transmission broke off just after they claimed to have seen the creature moving."

"So..." Shinji began, but found his throat painfully restricted, "they're all...gone?" His eyes ran over the few lines again and again, his mind trying to grasp what he was reading. "Just like that?" They were last words of dead men. He tried to remember what the authorized strength of an infantry division was supposed to be. He had learned it at some point, he was sure of it. But now, all he could remember was that it had been in the thousands. There would be survivors, no doubt, a few men here and there who had fled rather than face an equally certain - but, a part of him noted, at least honorable - death or who had the luck of being injured early on. But the point was academic and only a small comfort. Thousands of men had been wiped out in a few, short, brutal moments. And a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him that it had been his fault, at least partially. Had he done his job right the first time, they never would have seen the enemy. Back at the Academy, they would joke about this defeat or that setback the Army would have just suffered in China, secure in the knowledge that they were much better suited to defend Japan. But now, even though it had been the Army that had suffered this defeat, he found it impossible to feel the least amount of satisfaction at their failure. Not when thousands of his countrymen lay dead. The very idea of gloating about it made him sick to his stomach.

Ryouji nodded. A glance at his face showed Shinji that he was deep in thought.

"This cuts our training time well short." he said, "We can expect them to be here in two days, maybe sooner. The 63rd Independant Engineering Regiment is trying to delay them, but we both know that won't stop them for long." He waved to von Zeppelin, who stomped over to them, impatience radiating off of her in waves. She looked from one of them to the other, challenging them to finally tell her what this particular instance of stupidity was all about.

"Ikari, would you ask her if her copilot has been trained as an Eva pilot?" he said, not looking at either of them.

Shinji could guess what he was thinking, and he was certain von Zeppelin would, too. "Sir, with due respect, neither of them has actual combat experience as a pilot..." he began, but the Captain cut him off.

"A translation, Ikari, if you please" he said. His tone permitted no further argument.

Resigned to his fate, he tried to make it sound like it was mere curiosity, but von Zeppelin saw through it in an instant.

"'That' is not going to happen." she said in a low voice. At once, the hairs on his neck were standing at full attention. This was different from her earlier bluster, which he now realized had been largely for show. She was truly angry this time. He would have actually preferred it if she had started screaming again. Now she just looked at him with utter contempt in her still-beautiful, ice-blue eyes. "I'm not losing my unit because you are too dumb to walk in a straight line" she said, punctuating her words by the stabbing of her finger into his chest. She blew past them, and disappeared from the hangar.

"I suppose that answers that question." Ryouji said dryly, not even waiting for a translation. "Captain Ayanami: a word, if I may" he continued, turning towards her. Shinji took that as his cue to leave.

First Home Defense Fleet Base

Tokyo

September 19, 1915, midday

He hadn't planned on ending up here. His feet had carried him almost by themselves, and now he wondered if it had been fate. If it was, then fate seemed to think him a glutton for punishment.

She was striking, he had to admit. She was standing on the small hill from where one could survey most of Tokyo. Silhouetted against the blue sky, her arms folded over her chest, she was the very image of a General overlooking the battlefield. All that was missing was her army. Still, it would make for a good propaganda picture, he thought. Japan and Germany, standing united against all foes. Japan, of course, would be represented by an intrepid, young and reasonably handsome Japanese Navy Ensign, not unlike himself...

"Have you come to beg, or to gloat?" she asked icily.

Shinji looked down and found that he was still clutching the dispatch. It only served to underscore his frustration. Somewhere out there, thousands of corpses littered the fields and roads in a fashion the newspapers would almost certainly describe as cherry blossoms fallen in the spring. But Shinji couldn't find the poetry in it. They were dead, and he was reasonably sure that they would prefer to be alive. And now here they were, doing nothing

"You know, I don't understand you." she said, and Shinji made a rather unmanly sound of surprise.

Von Zeppelin stalked closer to him, her eyes burning holes into him. "And what I don't understand is why."

"Excuse me?" Shinji answered, trying to properly convey just how confused he was at the moment.

"Why are you here, Ensign? You aren't trained, and you don't train. You aren't even trying! You just go through the motions and expect that to be enough!" Now she was looming over him, and her index finger stabbed him in the chest in a gesture that was quickly becoming characteristic in their conversations. "You are holding us back, and you know it! And the worst is that you Just. Don't. Care."

"It's not like I volunteered-"

"So who cares? You were given a job, and you are trying to weasel through with the least amount of work! That is exactly what got us into this mess!"

Shinji's hands balled into fists. After several days of berating and, occasionally, slaps, his patience had, at last, reached its end.

"Well, your job was to try and coordinate with me. And all you've done is show me that I can't keep up" he almost shouted. Now the pressure valve had opened fully, and he was not going to slow down. "It's always the same with you! I make the tiniest mistake, and you don't even try to correct me! Instead it is just 'Oh, Ensign Dumbass made a stupid again! Let's hold it over him for the rest of the week to show everybody how much better I am!' This isn't about dancing or training at all, this is about me making you not look good for a change!"

She recoiled as if he had struck her, and for a moment he considered an apology. Then she started talking again, and the thought vanished like a cadet making jokes about the Emperor.

"Why should I slow myself to your level? Your Captain is right; if you can't keep up with me, you should be replaced!"

"You don't even want anyone to keep up with you!" he roared back,no longer caring if his words made any sense at all.

"Oh, listen, the Ensign is already making up excuses again!" she spat back, and Shinji's hand involuntarily moved to where the hilt of his sword should have been. Gripping the air broke him out of the red haze he had charged himself into. He was breathing heavily through painfully clenched teeth. His blood pounded in his ears, and, as if from somewhere far off, the pain of his fingernails digging into his palms reached him.

"Look at this, Lieutenant, " he said with all the restraint he could still muster, holding out the crumpled piece of paper. She glanced at it and sneered.

"Oh, good, our intrepid hero is trying the 'Message from Mommy' thing again-"

"LOOK AT IT!" he screamed. For a long, silent moment they both stared at one another. Even the wind seemed to have made itself scarce, as if it didn't dare disturb them. She made no move to take the note from him, nor did she even acknowledge its existence. Her eyes remained on his face, burning into his as if she thought she could read his mind if only she bored deep enough. Gradually, the sneer faded and was replaced by a frown. Shinji took a deep breath and continued.

"It says the enemy is moving again and will be here in two days. The division that was holding it in place was practically destroyed to the last man. That means thousands of families in Japan will never see their loved ones again, and thousands more will die the same, stupid way unless we kill that thing. We're the only ones who can do that, you know that every bit as well as I do!" Still, she said nothing. If it hadn't been for the deepening frown on her face, he might have suspected that she was ignoring him. He closed his eyes and fought down the urge to just strangle her into submission. Not that it'd necessarily help them win the battle, he told himself. He needed her conscious and, preferably, cooperative. Taking a few deep breaths, he summoned every ounce of professionalism he had in him. "We have to defeat the enemy. And that means we have to work together. So if you need me to beg, then Iwill."

She said nothing. For a moment, he was almost convinced that she would call him on it. He would have to get on his knees and beg her to help him. Only minutes ago it would have sounded preposterous, but now things had changed. If the survival of the nation was at stake, what was a little humiliation? The Emperor demanded that he gave his life if so required, so he certainly demanded that he would bear the shame of begging a foreigner to help him after he had failed. And besides, who could tell how Captain Ayanami and the German copilot would fare? It was not the time to throw untested pilots into the fire. Not with the survival of Japan at stake, as well as his own.

To his surprise, she finally held out her hand. He eyed it suspiciously for a long moment, then took it. Her grasp was surprisingly strong.

"I want a promise, Ikari" she said without breaking eye contact even for a second. He couldn't have looked away even if he had wanted to. "I want you to promise me that you will do whatever it takes to win, and won't stop until you do."

He nodded, and for the first time, she gave him a smile without sneering. It was a disturbing sight, to say the least. He had always thought that the sneers, the insults and the abuse were all there was to her, but now it seemed like he would have to reconsider. Perhaps, and it was a Perhaps with a capital P and in mental italics, he could grow to get along with her after all. "If you'll promise the same." he said at last.

"Of course. Now, Ensign, let us go, and set this world ablaze." she answered, and walked right past him. "Get moving, we have much to do."

Together, they made their way back to the hangar. Inside, Captain Ryouji was overseeing their copilots. Now that they were designated as primary pilots, they seemed a little less confident and easy going. With some satisfaction, Shinji noted a few missteps between the two of them that made them look a good deal less graceful. With even greater satisfaction, he noted the deep frown on his superior's face. Perhaps he, too, was wondering if it was such a good idea to have inexperienced pilots take the one shot they had at stopping the enemy.

Still, it would take some convincing to get the Captain to change his plan. In any training scenario, Shinji wouldn't have minded to take a backseat - literally - but now he was committed to ensure that they would be the primary pilots. On the way back, he had realized that he had inadvertently blurted out a major issue: they were the only ones who could be expected to stand against these monsters, and still survive to fight another day. It was madness to give new pilots their first taste of combat in such a high-stakes situation. To let Ayanami take the pilot seat meant that he would be reduced to giving strongly-worded suggestions. Whether he liked it or not, he was the most capable pilot they had, and thus, paradoxically, the one who should be sent to fight the most dangerous battles. At least in the pilot's harness, he could control his own fate and trust his own skills to keep him alive. A tiny voice in his head noted that he might still fail and that he might spend the last few precious seconds of his life regretting that he would have pulled Ayanami into this, but he squashed it instantly. Furthermore, he told himself, he could not go back on his promise to von Zeppelin, either. For some reason, the idea of disappointing von Zeppelin seemed downright horrifying. He did a mental double take at the thought, but then decided that what he had really meant was that he was unwilling to give her the satisfaction of having been right about him, or that he wanted to avoid the gruesome death that awaited all who failed her.

Thus fortified, he went to see the Captain. Ryouji seemed still to be pondering his decision, else he would have left already. Shinji decided to seize the opportunity.

"Sir, with due respect, about the assignment of the Evangelions..." he began. His superior said nothing, but did turn to face him. "I do not mean to undermine Captain Ayanami's courage or her skill, but she has not yet piloted an Evangelion in combat." Ryouji remained silent, his expression giving no hint of his thoughts. "And therefore, I believe that we - that is, the Lieutenant and I - should be the primary pilots. We should use our most experienced personnel in this critical operation, and that'd be us" he said, then added "Sir" almost as an afterthought.

Ryouji looked out the hangar doors. "Have you ever been in a battle that wasn't critical?" he asked rhetorically. After a moment, he nodded. "Very well. I will make the final decision on the crews before we deploy."

Seemingly satisfied with his indecision, he strolled out the door. Shinji returned to von Zeppelin, who was already tapping her foot in impatience.

"He said that he'd think about it" he told her. Von Zeppelin huffed a little, and Shinji found himself relieved not to be the target of her ire for a change.

"Then let's make him rue that he ever doubted us." she said and grasped his hand.

Again, they faced off against one another. This time, however, there was only determination in her ice-blue eyes. Still, Shinji wondered if their alliance would survive his first mistake.

Von Zeppelin started to move, and he tried his best to follow. Instinctively he glanced down to avoid her feet. Abruptly she stopped, her hand left his, and out of an instinct born from hours of repetition, he tried to get out of her reach in time before the inevitable happened. The sting of her slap told him that he had failed, as he always had. So much for teamwork.

"What was that for?" he shouted, rubbing his cheek.

"You looked down!" she snarled, somewhat unnecessarily.

"I was just trying not to step on your feet!" he answered, growing more frustrated by the second. Already, he wondered how he had ever even considered the possibility that she might actually mean her promise.

"How are you ever going to learn if you keep holding back to worry about me! Why do you have to try and think for the two of us when you can't even think for yourself? Clearly, it should be me who worries about the feet, because you are obviously too dumb to-"

"Fine!" He grabbed her hand and her waist before she could finish her sentence, determined to wipe that smirk of her face and make her eat her own words. If she wanted her feet to be stepped on, who was he to deny her? Part of him suggested, wearily, that maybe he should be more reasonable, but he was too far gone to care.

He started to move, quite deliberately aiming for her feet, which was surprisingly hard without looking down. Impossibly, he found nothing but the floor beneath his shoes. Von Zeppelin's smirk grew with every step as she effortlessly evaded him, her smug and nigh-infuriating grin causing his cheeks to burn red hot.

But he could not stay mad at her, not really, when they were suddenly swirling through the hangar as if they had never done anything else. Soon he found himself cracking a smile, almost despite himself. The whole situation seemed just too silly to take seriously. At the same time, the feeling of the girl in his arms was intoxicating in its own right. He had never really noticed just how beautiful she was.

"What happened?" he marvelled aloud as they whirled across the hangar floor, "Why couldn't we do this before?" It seemed so simple, now.

"You never tried to lead", she said smugly. "I always knew that you could never match me in ability, but you never even tried to slow me down enough for you to keep up."

"You could have said something." he answered, annoyed but unwilling to press the issue. It was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth - not that he would have compared her to a horse in her hearing.

She stopped abruptly, and he stepped on her foot. Reflexively he jerked back, and tried to block her slap with his arm before he realized that she hadn't moved at all. "As long as you expect others to tell you what to do, you will never grow up." she said calmly.

Although he could see her point, he still thought that she could have at least given him a hint. Or loaded it with profanities and screamed it in his general direction, as she was wont to do.

"It doesn't matter now, I suppose." he said. "Shall we?"

She curtsied with a mocking grin, and then, they danced once more.

First Home Defense Fleet Base, Hangar 1

Tokyo

September 21, 1915, long after midnight

He couldn't sleep, but he was used to that by now. The time before battle was always one of great anxiety for him. Somehow, he would always wish that he was given just a little more time, that the looming shadow ón the horizon would not creep closer, yet at the same time, he wanted the waiting to be over and battle to begin so he could move on. It made sleep impossible. His tension would keep him awake, even though he knew that he needed his rest lest he made a mistake born from fatigue that would cost him his life.

Unable to find sleep, and unwilling to hear more of his roommates' preposterous speculation that it was pining after von Zeppelin which kept him awake, he had made his way to the hangar. Had he been challenged on the way, he had planned to make up a story about checking the Evangelion, but he had met no one. The entire base seemed fast asleep.

As he stepped into the hangar, he found the Evangelions crouched and ready, as if waiting to spring into action. The technicians had done their work, and both machines looked better than he had considered possible after such a short time. While they bore the usual dents and marks that combat equipment always had, they appeared as good and ready as they could be. It was calming to think that at least this time, he would not have to fight with an Evangelion half-damaged. His more sadistic side reminded him that his newly-repaired Evangelion hadn't been tested yet, and things had a tendency to break when they were needed most. With battle now only a few hours away, there was no time to run any rigorous test program to find the weaknesses and fix any problems. 'Combat testing', ironically enough, would have to wait until they were done fighting.

The thought of his Evangelion just failing on him, like it had against the second monster, did nothing to ease his anxiety. A sick feeling had taken hold of his stomach, as if it had been gripped by a fist of ice. He paced aimlessly for some time, his mind coming up with new and ever-more exciting ways the battle could go spectacularly wrong, all of which inevitably ending with their defeat and rather gruesome deaths. He found himself gazing up at the still form of his Evangelion and images rose unbidden of its armor in shreds, blood and hydraulic fluid slowly dripping from its body as it lay beaten on the battlefield.

"Can't sleep?" a voice said right behind him.

Shinji gave a yelp and jumped - but it had only been a slight, almost imperceptible jump, or so he told himself. The voice sniggered.

"You." he said, making his disapproval heard. Von Zeppelin grinned evilly. "You snuck up on me." he continued accusingly.

"I did not." she said, slightly amused, "I stomped in here and found you open to attack. Very sloppy."

If he had not seen her smirk in the half-dark hangar, he would have taken her seriously. Shinji, for his part, decided that she had snuck up on him.

"So, Lieutenant, what brought you here?" he said, suddenly aware that he was very much alone with her. A silly part of him imagined accusing her of wanting to see him, but a more reasonable part countered that if she did, she would have looked at the barracks rather than the hangar, and that being beaten to death with a wrench in an Evangelion hangar by an enraged German did not actually count as an honorable death in combat.

He was not entirely sure why he felt deflated by this realization.

Von Zeppelin looked over to her Evangelion. "I'm not entirely sure." she said, "I guess I just wanted to make sure everything was in order. I didn't have time to check on my Eva in the last few days." She slowly, almost hesitantly, paced over to it. "I mean, those technicians could have done anything, right?"

She walked around the giant form, kicking against its metal feet here and there in what, to Shinji's admittedly untrained eyes, looked very professional. For a moment, he considered doing the same, but he feared that he might inadvertently break something, either in the Evangelion or in his own body. While Hyuga clearly did not care for the latter, he would no doubt accuse Shinji of sabotage if anything happened to the former. Breaking the Evangelion before going into combat would be a new record for him, too.

Apparently satisfied, von Zeppelin shot him a look, then mounted the stairwell to the walkway that spanned the hangar in a few fast steps. His eyes followed her as she gracefully walked along the metal floor to reach the entry hatch of her kneeling Evangelion. A light went on inside, and he could see her scramble around, no doubt checking and rechecking the instruments. And, a bemused part of him dryly noted, probably making a list of things the technicians had done wrong.

Still, it was a welcome interruption to see her work, taking his mind of his predicament. He settled down next to the hangar doors. He closed his eyes to listen to the soft and soothing sounds of the base at night, the gentle lapping of the ocean waves against the piers.

Then he was back in the cockpit, strapped tight into the harness, the battle raging all around him. Something heavy fell over the Evangelion, and the sound of thousands of scraping claws filled the cockpit. The dials in front of him showed an empty tank and no hydraulic pressure. He was helpless. He called out for Ayanami, but there was no response. For some reason, he could not turn his head to look for her. The scraping grew more insistent, and a roar of a bloodthirsty beast filled the air. A beam of the brightest light missed him only narrowly, starting a fire in the cockpit of the fallen Evangelion. His heart hammered in his chest, cold sweat clinging to his skin as he realized that his cockpit was now completely open. Hot air blew a terrible stench into his face. He turned his head ever so slightly and saw the mouth of the beast, beset by hundreds of mandibles, stripping aside the tattered remains of the cockpit wall to get to him, to get at him. He tried to recoil, but the harness held him fast. There was no one to release him, the sickly sweet stench of burning flesh filled his nose as he realized that it was him that burned and the maw of the beast was now only inches from his fingers, and he couldn't move and it would eat him, it would eat him it would eat

Something ripped him from his dream. He stumbled to his feet, vertigo forcing the bile to his throat, and staggered away from the hunched form of his Evangelion as reality slowly reformed. For a moment, he was disoriented, his panicked mind thinking that the battle was already - or still - underway. But then he noticed that the hangar lay once again dark and silent. Von Zeppelin had apparently finished her inspection, because the light in the Evangelion was out. Slowly, his racing heartbeat calmed, and he noted with disgust the feeling of his damp uniform clinging to his skin.

He stood up and stretched, taking deep breaths of the cool night air to banish the last dregs of sleep. The eastern horizon showed a hint of light. It wouldn't be long now. He stepped outside and spotted von Zeppelin's huddled form next to the entrance, leaning back against the hangar wall. Apparently, the Lieutenant had not seen fit to return to her quarters either.

For a while he stood and watched the light creep over the dark horizon. Somewhere out there, the monsters were making their way towards them. Did they even tire? And if so, did they dream? It was even more disturbing, he realized, to face these inhuman creatures than other people. Humans, for all their differences, were basically rational people and could be expected to behave in somewhat logical fashion. These monsters could not. The morbid thought occurred to him that this may well be his undoing. That he would take something for granted and suffer for it.

"Say, Lieutenant," he said quietly, "have you ever watched a sunrise and wondered if it would be your last?"

A soft snore answered him, and he felt rather silly. Softly, he stepped closer to von Zeppelin, who slept huddled against the hangar wall. Perhaps she, too, had just closed her eyes for a moment when the exhaustion of the last few days claimed her. He crouched down before her. Now, as her red hair shone in the gentle pre-dawn light, he noticed once again just how incredibly beautiful she could be if she wasn't wearing her trademark scowl. The girl's peacefully sleeping face seemed far removed from the mask of barely-constrained anger she usually wore. Somehow, the smidge of engine grease on her cheek only added a certain kind of interesting exoticness to her. She was not the kind of girl that sat at home and waited for her husband to return. She wasn't normal. In fact, she was probably as far from normal as one could get in Japan, but somehow, that made her seem even more alluring. A devious thought snuck into his mind. Should he steal a kiss? His mind warred with itself. No one would ever know. It was the perfect opportunity. They were utterly alone, and it would be a just revenge for all her petty little remarks and the foul trick she had played earlier. He leaned a little closer. Her lips looked so soft, and he wondered how they would feel against his. The voice of reason was only a whisper now.

"Mama..." sighed the girl.

Shinji blinked, the spell suddenly broken. What had he been thinking? There was a certain feeling of disgust, as if he had just tried to take advantage of her. Suddenly, she seemed so much smaller and more vulnerable than the fierce warrior he knew. She seemed almost human in comparison. Asuka huddled herself a little closer. After a moments hesitation, he removed his uniform jacket and put it around her form. It was a rather cold night, after all, and he wouldn't want her to catch a cold.

"Don't worry, Asuka", he whispered, "you'll see her again"

Then he settled to wait. She would no doubt tear his head off if she noticed, so he resolved to recover his jacket before she woke.

First Home Defense Fleet Base, Hangar 1

Tokyo

September 21, 1915, early morning

The first indication that the time had come was subtle. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon when a small plane took off from the nearby air base and flew northeast. Shinji watched it leave with mixed feelings. It was searching for the enemy, of that there could be no doubt. What really clenched his stomach was when it returned only minutes later. It circled over the base for a moment. Then, everything happened rather quickly.

Only minutes later, a horde of technicians descended on the hangar. The Evangelions were given one last checkup, their fuel tanks topped off and the ammunition loaded into their internal guns. This was it, Shinji realized, this was the moment when everything counted. They could not afford any mistakes. Suddenly, the weight of his responsibility seemed to crash down on his shoulders. All these people had worked tirelessly just to give him a chance to fight again and expected him to use this chance wisely. They put their trust in him, as if he was some kind of hero who would deliver them from evil. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to be in the pilot's seat.

It was the nerves, he knew that. He also knew, rationally, that all the arguments he had made - to Asuka and to himself - about why it had to be them in the pilot's harness were still sound. But that thought did nothing to lessen his desire to run away, even as he knew that he shouldn't - mustn't - do it. He was glad that he had not yet had breakfast, because he was certain that he would have not been able to keep it down.

"Great, you look like death warmed over." Asuka hissed at him, "Keep it together or he will take the Evangelion away from you. Don't be stupid about this."

Rationally, he knew that she was right. He could do better than this. He had been in this exact same situation before, and prevailed. Certainly, the stakes in the fight against the cube monster had been higher. The unhelpful part of his mind noted dryly that he was probably the most important junior officer in the entire Imperial Navy right now, and that thought alone made his knees go weak.

"Come on, are you a professional soldier or are you a crybaby?" Asuka whispered again, "I thought the Japanese soldiers were braver than this." The appeal to his patriotism fell on deaf ears.

Captain Ryouji entered the hangar. Shinji felt the blood drain from his face. Using all his strength, he rose up straight. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Asuka giving him a satisfied smile.

"Sir" he said as Ryouji walked up to them. He hoped that his voice didn't really sound as squeaky as he thought it did. The smile on Asuka's face seemed to become a little more forced.

"I want your honest opinion, Ensign. Considering that the fate of our nation will be decided by this battle", the captain began, forcing the ice in Shinji's stomach to contract to a tiny ball of purest coldness, "Do you think that you should pilot?"

It was a show of mercy, his analytical mind noted. He was being given a way out. He could say that he considered Ayanami to be better suited for the role and step down. It would be a minor mark against him in the future, but it could also be interpreted as showing greater devotion to duty than selfish desire to advance his career. And yet he could not bring himself to take it.

Pride, he thought. He possessed the same vice he had accused Asuka of having. There was a lot that could be said about who should and should not pilot in this battle, but at the heart of it, it was pride that made him demand his place. Suddenly, he felt a spark of anger at the Captain. Did he really think him that incompetent? Had he not shown what he could do, time and time again? Was it not his right to face his fate in the position he was best suited for?

"I do, Sir." he said, almost surprising himself. It felt odd. Asuka had been right in that he had tried to muddle through with doing as little as possible. But somewhere along the line, he had picked up a certain pride in his position, and a desire to be recognized for his achievements. Now, faced with the possibility of having that stripped from him, he found that he could not let it go. It also carried the implication that all his carefully crafted arguments, although perfectly sound, had not been motivated so much by duty as they had been motivated by pride. Or, as Asuka would no doubt call it, honor.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He would think about it later, when - if - he had won.

Ryouji nodded. "Good. Make us proud." he said.

After a moment of silence Shinji realized that this had been the extent of the motivational speech.

"He is coming!" a voice shouted from the hangar doors. An excited Ensign Shinji did not know pointed towards something in the distance. Even without a pair of binoculars, Shinji was certain that the little speck on the horizon was the enemy. But it was alone. Where was its partner? Had it succumbed to its injuries? Had one consumed the other to gain its strengths? Did these things even have to eat, given that there was no clear mouth visible? Every question seemed to spawn more questions instead of answers, and so Shinji pushed them to the back of his mind. He needed a clear head, and who could tell what went on in the minds of these brute beasts, anyway?

"What are you waiting for?" Captain Ryouji asked calmly as the technicians scurried off the giant war machines like mice at the sight of a hawk.

Now, finally, the moment had come. He nodded to Asuka, not really knowing what to say. Goodbye sounded far too fatalistic. She nodded back, and the proceeding was closed. Crisis averted. His legs carried him to the entry hatch almost by themselves, and he found that the shaking knees he had had only moments ago seemed gone. At least his body appeared unconcerned.

"Ensign!" Asuka shouted from the other side of the hangar. His head whipped around. For an odd second, his mind wondered if he would get to hear a last-second declaration of love. "Good hunting!" she shouted, and the idea died a largely-unnoticed death. Asuka disappeared into her Evangelion, and Shinji wondered if this was the last he would ever see of her. Somehow, he felt that there was something he ought to have said, but he could not, for the life of him, put it in anything approaching words.

Northeastern Suburbs of Tokyo

Tokyo

September 21, 1915, morning

They moved through the streets as if they were mere pedestrians, and not, as infact they were, giant war machines. The episode in the rice paddies was still on his mind, and Shinji was glad to fight this battle with solid ground under his feet. The fact that he could see the enemy clear across the roofs of the many small wooden buildings helped enormously as well. This time, he would not be taken by surprise. The aircraft of the Unryu airgroup scouted behind the nearby hills while the Zeppelin herself had been stationed over the bay to watch for the other enemy. But so far, no sign of it had been spotted.

Unless, of course, Asuka decided that he had done something to upset her greatly. He was acutely aware of the giant gun her Evangelion carried, and which was no doubt pointed at Unit 1's backside. For the first time, he wished that his Evangelion had a radio set or, failing that, a way to see what was behind him without turning the whole machine around. As it was, he just had to trust her to keep him covered.

The monster seemed utterly unconcerned by their approach, nor did it seem to mind the houses it crushed in its march. To Shinji's surprise, it also did not look like the battles it had fought before had done any lasting harm. There were no scars on its body, no limp in its gait. The enemy seemed every bit as fresh as they were.

He moved down a side street to block its path, taking care not to step on any houses. They were, after all, supposed to keep the damage to the suffering capital to a minimum. The German Evangelion moved on ahead to take up a flanking position so she'd have a clear shot at it without having to worry about hitting Unit 01.

Not that he expected Asuka to care too much about proper target identification. If she hit him, it would be his fault for not reading her mind and getting in the way. As usual.

His enemy approached unconcerned. Indeed, it did not even seem to notice the Evangelion in its path until it almost ran into it. It came to halt perhaps thirty meters away and looked at the obstacle in dull surprise.

"Not particular bright, are we?" Shinji muttered under his breath.

"He does not think as we do" Ayanami interjected from the backseat, as if it was patently obvious. Considering what they were facing, she was probably right.

The enemy seemed to have come to the conclusion that it could just walk around Shinji and continue. Had it really forgotten their last encounter so completely? Shinji backed up rapidly to keep it in front of him, praying that he won't step on his cable. Off to his right, he could see Asuka move into position. When she turned, he lunged forward. The lance dug deep into the enemy's body, bright crimson blood spurting out from the wound as if under high pressure. The monster's terrified wail rang in their ears, but Shinji pressed his attack further. Whipping the Lance up, the two prongs cut through the flesh like it wasn't there. The lance exited the body, and the two halves fell apart. Nothing moved.

Shinji blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. Was that it? Was that all they had trained for for almost a week?

"We are not done." Ayanami said from the rear seat.

"We aren't?" he asked, uncertain. The enemy looked pretty dead to him.

But something was most definitely wrong. He could see no trace of the red orb that was usually so vital in killing these beasts. And Asuka had not lowered her gun one inch. Instead, she approached slowly and kept her weapon trained on the corpse in front of her. Obviously, she did not trust it either. Shinji took a careful step back to assess the situation.

Suddenly, the flesh of the monster seemed to bubble and boil. The gash he had cut into it deepened, until finally the body was completely cut in two. The flesh flowed smoothly into new forms. Suddenly, he found himself facing two enemies, and in an instant, he understood what had happened the last time they had fought.

Compared to the ponderous form he had faced before, these two enemies seemed very quick on the uptake. They moved with astonishing speed, one flanking to the left, one to the right. It almost seemed like it was one mind controlling two bodies. Their split brought him into a difficult tactical situation. To engage one, he would have to turn his back on the other, and it was obvious that this was exactly what they had planned.

For a moment, he dithered between the two. Not for the first time he wished that the Evangelions had a wireless set or some other means to communicate with each other. As it was, all he could do was hope that Asuka would understand his intentions. With a short prayer to whatever deity was listening, he turned to engage the right enemy, leaving the left one to Asuka. At least this way, she would not accidentally shoot him.

He took a few quick steps forward to keep up with his enemy, who continued to move to the right. Every second he expected an attack from behind, a crushing blow that would end it. Yet none came. The red Evangelion had disappeared from his view. Just as he wondered what was wrong, he heard the telltale ripping sound of its gun opening up.

Instantly, the enemy reacted, reversing its course. It sought to pass behind Shinji to attack Asuka from the rear. Shinji knew that he could never catch it if it did, and therefore did the only thing available to him.

With clenched teeth, he drove the Evangelion right against the enemy, ramming the armored shoulder into its soft flesh. The beast staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the sudden attack. Behind him, he could hear the staccato bursts of the German internal machine guns as Asuka grappled with her enemy. It was a comforting sound, telling him that she was still fighting. The first sign of something being wrong would be silence.

He let off a burst of his own guns, more to reassure her than to do any real damage. Then he drove his lance deep into the enemy's body. Screaming in pain, the beast stepped back, tearing itself from the two cruel prongs. Shinji pursued, although his sense of tactics screamed that it was feint, designed to draw him away from his support. But what choice did he have? He could not let the enemy get away, regroup and give them the opportunity to attack again. They had the initiative now, and it would be foolish to just give it up. All he could do was hope that Asuka could keep her opponent occupied for a little while.

The monster tore a path of destruction through the wooden houses. Shinji followed, crushing the wood into an even smaller pulp of splinters. Somewhere in the back of his head, he realized that these had been the houses of real people only minutes before, before their inhabitants had fled to find shelter somewhere away from the battle. Now they were just a minor obstacle as he rammed the massive form of his Evangelion through the path already made by his opponent. The tortuous part of him wondered if all of them had heard the evacuation alarm, or if he was crushing people underfoot at this very moment.

Already, he could see the wounds on the enemy close slowly, the red streams down the flanks of the beast growing thinner and finally stopping. The monster stopped, turned around, and made to charge back towards its companion, who was still locked in the fight against Asuka.

Shinji turned the Evangelion around to follow it. Some distance away, Asuka was having her hands full against her opponent, twisting and turning her heavy war machine with surprising agility to keep him in front of her. Shinji's enemy moved fast, with a wide, sweeping gait that made it impossible for Shinji to catch him. He could only watch as it ate up the distance to its target. He willed the Evangelion to go faster, but already he was feeling rather winded, the harness seeming to grow heavier and more restrictive with every moment.

He could only watch in horror as the monster closed in on her exposed back. In one fluid motion, it raised its clawed hand high and tore through her cable. Asuka's Evangelion froze in midmovement. Instantly her opponent pressed its attack, digging deep grooves into her armor with one powerful swipe. Shinji's heart sank. It was happening again. They were being outfought again. In just a few moment's the battle had turned around completely.

But he had little time to think. There was still hope to turn it around again. The enemy seemed to focus on one of them, ignoring the other. If he could get them to attack him, Asuka might be able to rejoin the fight. Against muscles screaming in pain, he willed himself forward. A push of a button snapped out the armblade. Shifting his grip on the lance to one hand, he crashed into the enemy, digging both his weapons as deep into its body as he could.

The impact rocked the heavy war machine. Metal screamed as the momentum pressed their bodies close together. Outside the cockpit, the flesh of the enemy was close enough to touch, if Shinji had not been strapped into the harness.

The effect was instantaneous. With a powerful push, the monster trapped between him and Asuka's still Evangelion worked itself free, shoving the dozens of tons of metal on each side away without any apparent effort. Then it turned towards Shinji, and he could have sworn that there was a flash of anger on the strange, misshapen thing he assumed was its face.

Shinji recovered easily with a step back. The monster's blood oozed from the deep wounds he had inflicted, painting the ground below a crimson red. Focusing on the enemy in front of him, Shinji could see the other monster slip off to the side from the corner of his eyes. He had achieved his objective. Now he just had to survive. The first attack hit like lightning, making him stagger back again as the Evangelion's thin front armor was ripped apart like it was paper. He could feel the draft of the giant claws as they passed just a few inches under his feet. But thankfully, nothing vital was hit, and he did not feel the harness seize up which would have meant that part of the hydraulics had been hit.

He anticipated the next attack easier, moving his arm with the lance to block it. The strength behind the swipe was still a surprise, forcing him to grip the weapon with both hands. The Evangelion protested with the scream of tortured metal as the two giants grappled with each other. Still, Shinji knew that there was one enemy unaccounted for, moving behind him to strike.

"Captain!" he screamed, "Start the engine and eject the cable!"

Ayanami moved with her usual precision, leaving the Evangelion without a break in power. Shinji felt the great weight of the plug leave the Evangelion, giving him much needed maneuverability. More importantly, he wouldn't be defenseless if his cable was severed. But on the other hand, they were now on a timer, and the fuel gauge in front of him seemed to drain far too quickly.

The roar of a second engine filled the air as the German diesel caught and started up. Instantly, Asuka turned her red Evangelion around. Shinji's blood froze when he saw the muzzle of the giant gun point straight at him. It shifted ever so slightly to the side, and then the sound of a giant dragon roaring filled the air. The tracers missed Unit One by mere centimeters.

Asuka advanced, guns blazing as she drove the enemy behind Shinji back by sheer weight of fire. Still struggling against the monster in front of him, Shinji could not see how close he had come to annihilation, but the sound of liquid splashing against the rear armor made it sound very close indeed. The immediate crisis had been averted, but only for the moment. Despite the puddles of blood forming under their feet, they had not done any real damage to the enemy. And now they were rapidly running out of fuel, and with it, time.

The red Evangelion slipped past his shoulder, and he knew Asuka was probably thinking the same thing he did. They needed a victory, and they needed it soon. Just holding off the enemy was not enough.

Despite being locked in a fierce struggle, he tried to clear his head and approach it logically. To win, they had to destroy the red orbs. It stood to reason that both enemies had one, since he had not seen one in their original, combined form.

Carefully, he shifted his grip on the lance that still blocked the enemy's claw to free up his left arm, which held the blade. Instantly, the metal to his right started to groan as it had to take the entirety of the enemy's strength. For a second, he feared that it would snap clean off, which would no doubt bring this fight to a quick, and probably fatal, end. But for the moment, the arm held, so Shinji pulled back his left and rammed the armblade deep into the enemy's body. He followed it up with a few more quick stabs, but it was obvious that he was only hitting flesh. The blade gave no indication that it had hit anything else. It seemed, indeed, as if the red orb was the only internal organ these things had. Shinji was certainly no expert on anatomy, but it did seem almost impossible to be true. Did these things really have no heart, no lungs, no brain? Not even bones? It would certainly explain their almost unbelievable ability to absorb punishment. They weren't hitting anything important because there was nothing important to hit.

He changed his tactic, cutting through the flesh with quick movements. The right arm was bending dangerously, and the harness dug deep into his skin as it forced his arm to mimic the position. Behind him, the sound of Asuka's gun suddenly cut off. Had she defeated her enemy? Had she run out of ammunition? Was she locked in a deadly hand to hand fight and needed his help? He couldn't know, and he made a mental note to pester Lieutenant Hyuga until he installed something in the Evangelion to communicate. He would even settle for signal flags.

Large slabs of flesh were falling from the enemy, but he did not seem to weaken. And there was no sight of the red orb, either. The monster suddenly swept its free arm up, its claw easily cutting through the blade. In disbelief, Shinji watched the pieces tumble down on the ground below.

The sound of metal nearing its breaking point snapped him out of it, and he brought the now useless hand up to support the lance. His enemy responded in kind, pressing down on him with both arms. He was slowly forced down, and he had no doubts what would happen once they broke free. It would be a split second fight in which he had to bring his lance to bear. He could feel the blood rush to his head. His eyes were glued to the lance, which was forced downwards millimeter by millimeter. Everything around him seemed to slow down as he concentrated on not missing the single deciding moment.

"Fuel for one minute." Ayanami said from behind, sounding as if she was miles away. Her words barely registered in Shinji's mind. In one minute, this fight would be over, one way or the other. It was an odd sense of calm in him, despite the incredible tension. His mind was clear of any superfluous thoughts, as if it had been emptied through a hole. The path was clear, all that remained was the walk.

Although he had not found the red orb, he had found plenty of space where it had not been, and by mere exclusion he could guess the area where it had to be fairly accurately. Unless the two shared only one orb between them, and it was in the other body. But there was nothing he could do about that now, so he pushed the thought out of his mind.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. In a splitsecond, he relaxed his resistance against the enemy, moving the lance down on his own violation. The beast staggered as it pushed against thin air. In a quick motion, Shinji brought the lance level with the monster's chest and pushed forward. The terrified, anguished scream told him that he had struck true. He pulled back his weapon, and the monster sank to its knees, before finally collapsing into a strengthless heap, crushing a few houses underneath.

"Thirty seconds." Ayanami intoned.

It had not seemed as long to Shinji, but it now time seemed to fly. The lumbering form of his Evangelion seemed to move extremely slow as he turned around to engage the other enemy. Before him, a battlefield of apocalyptic destruction appeared. While he had been fighting only a few meters away, Asuka and her opponent had turned the area into a slaughterhouse. Her giant gun was gone, its parts strewn across the field, sticking out of the wooden roofs of ruined houses. Here and there, fires sent up oily black smoke. The whole area was painted a deep crimson red, and he suddenly realized that it was all blood. Even the German Evangelion wore a new coat of red paint, severals shades deeper than before and slowly dripping to the ground.

Asuka had been forced to start up her engine earlier, and as he watched, her movements suddenly froze as her Evangelion ran out of fuel. However, her opponent was in an even worse shape. Shinji did not know if it was the damage she had done to it or the shock of seeing its companion die, but the monster seemed to behave erratically even for its not particularly predictable kind. Its arms were swinging wildly, slashing thin air while it staggered around. It let out a piercing, wailing scream that rattled Shinji's bones even inside the Evangelion.

He moved closer, now very conscious of his empty tank. His Evangelion slipped in between the two former adversaries, shielding Asuka from any attack the desperate beast might make. He came to rest just in front of her still Evangelion. He didn't dare to push his machine any further, opting to preserve the fuel fumes in his tank to power the arms instead of the legs. The enemy was well within range, anyway.

Shini knew he likely had only one attempt. The monster was still slashing wildly through the air in wide, unaimed swipes. After seeing the two of them coordinate so well just moments ago, it seemed a little pathetic, but Shinji pushed any thought of mercy out of his mind. He aimed carefully at the swinging chest of his opponent, and then delivered one perfect, textbook thrust as the enemy turned around. Instantly, its movements ceased, in the same moment Shinji heard the engine choke up and die. If the enemy wasn't dead, they were doomed, but the corpse skewered on the lance did not even twitch. Gravity alone let it slide slowly closer, down the shaft of the lance, until its massive form came to rest against the Evangelion's body.

Then, to his horror, he felt his machine slowly tip backwards, until it crashed against Asuka's machine with a metallic bang. The German Evangelion, though heavier built than the Japanese one, could not keep upright against the combined weight of the two bodies resting against it. Shinji swore softly when he felt the machine shift backwards again.

This time, the drop was much deeper, and Shinji found himself swinging wildly in his harness. At least, he mused, there was no tepid water to fall into this time. One had to accept the small favors that fate handed out.

Tokyo Suburbs

Tokyo

September 21, 1915, morning

After Shinji had carefully followed Ayanami out through the top hatch and had taken a few steps back, he got his first good look at the disaster. The Evangelions and the dead beast were piled on top of one another like the discarded toys of giants. He anxiously looked over his machine, mentally marking the various things that had been crushed, torn, ripped out, shredded, crushed or plain broken in the fight. Lieutenant Hyuga would no doubt be furious.

Shinji wondered if he could successfully claim that the Evangelion was still in 'one piece', or whether he would have to acknowledge that it as it actually was: one large-ish piece and a lot of smaller ones.

As they were watching, a small hatch on top of the German Evangelion opened. Asuka and her copilot scrambled out shortly afterwards. A simple look at Asuka showed her mental state, and Shinji instantly wished that he had stayed behind the Evangelion's armor.

She was most evidently displeased by the results of the battle. Her head snapped around, and even at this distance her blue eyes seemed to convey a burning desire for violent murder. Not even waiting for her copilot to reach the ground, she marched towards them, every inch of her body screaming anger. He would have to think fast if he wanted to get out of here alive.

"What the hell happened!" she screamed when she was only a few steps away, apparently unable to contain herself any longer.

"We won" he answered. It seemed like fairly safe comment to make. Asuka, of course, disagreed.

"Don't give me that!" she shrieked in his face, "Where the hell were you when those things ganged up on me!"

"Well," he said patiently, "I was pursuing one of them, but he outmaneuvered me..."

"It was an obvious feint." she instantly responded, her tone allowing no argument, "Anyone with a brain could have seen that coming. So I had to go and save you. Again."

"'Again'?" he shot back, "When was the first time?"

Asuka threw her hands up in frustration. "Don't change the topic. You owe me."

Perhaps he should let the matter rest and leave her to her delusions, but until the recovery teams arrived, there was little they could do, and the desolate ruins all around them offered few distractions.

"What would I possibly owe you for, Asuka?" he continued conversationally, knowing that this would probably anger her far more than an outright screaming match.

Not least, he mused, because she would most likely win a screaming match.

She reacted as expected. "Asuka!?" she shouted loud enough to make his ears ring, "When did I become Asuka to the likes of you? Did we marry while I wasn't looking? You will address me as Lieutenant von Zeppelin!"

"Alternatively," her copilot interjected without missing a beat, "Your Highness or Mistress will also be acceptable."

Asuka instantly whirled around to glare at him. "Don't give him any stupid ideas!" she screeched. "And as for you," she continued towards Shinji, "If I find so much as a scratch on my Eva, you will be repainting the whole thing with the smallest brush I can find!"

Slowly, Shinji felt the tension of the last week fade. For perhaps the first time since coming to Tokyo, he actually felt somewhat at ease. More monsters would, no doubt, be coming. But now, for the first time, he felt somewhat hopeful that they could be beaten. Despite everything, he was glad to know Asuka would fight alongside him. If anything, they had shown today that they could work as a team and that they deserved their spots in the cockpit.

But that, of course, did not mean that he had to cut back on anything. Shinji simply could not help himself.

"But of course, Asuka."

A/N: And so ends chapter 7. I hope you found it as enjoyable to read as I found it to write. If you did, leave a review. If you did not, please tell me why. Your feedback tells me how to improve. As always, I am deeply indebted to my beta reader, MAI742. The sanity he has lost over the last few months will be missed. I do not know when the next chapter will be ready, although I do hope that it won't be another year.