Chapter 8: Burden


Shinji had always held the suspicion, but had never known for sure. The red triangles in her hair confirmed it – Asuka was an alien. When he told her as much he was rewarded with a bruised shoulder.

He chuckled, jumping back as she raised her fist again. "A cat then? No, cats are cute and cuddly..."

"Go ahead, keep talking you little jerk," she said sweetly, while her eyes promised punishment.

Shinji sat down on the steps leading to the back porch of the Langley house, putting up the white flag early. "Fine, what are they?"

"A-ten clips," Asuka said with a grin, hands planted on her hips. "Haven't you ever been in an entry plug before?"

"A what?" he asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. She knew he hadn't.

"Entry plug."

Shinji clicked his tongue. "What the heck is it? And if I'm a pilot, why haven't I seen one before?"

"Probably because your robot isn't here – duh."

"Robot?" he asked. Shinji knew their piloting involved some sort of huge machine, but what exactly that was hadn't been clarified. He supposed a robot made sense.

"Do you listen to anything people tell you?" she said, missing his glare as she balanced along the edge of the top step. "They're supposed to finish building mine here in Berlin."

"Just yours?"

She shrugged, wobbling. "They said yours is in Japan at Headquarters."

"Headquarters for what?" he asked, willing her to fall. That might show her.

"NERV," she growled, plopping down next to him, "do I have to teach you everything?!"

NERV. That was a word he'd been seeing around the old Gehirn offices quite a lot recently. He was 11 now, and in the span of two years it had gone from a gated, squat complex to a huge, fortified concrete hive of activity. He wondered if it had been finished at all since his last visit.

To Asuka, he shrugged. "Sure. You're supposed to be super smart, right?"

Her shoulder nudged his. "Why do you have to be so dull about everything?" she asked, face smarting as though she'd just swallowed sour raspberries.

"All I did was ask you questions."

Asuka bumped his shoulder again. "But you should know this stuff!"

"If I was supposed to know, someone would've told me."

"Typical boy answer. You just don't want to admit that you're lazy and don't pay attention."

Shinji rolled his eyes, fishing out his cell phone. She'd been like this for the past few weeks – and it was driving him up the wall. She was sort of right, he would secretly admit. Their teachers had always stressed curiosity in their students. "If there are no questions, then there are no answers." but with Asuka, one was always looked down on for asking questions instead of already having the answers. And when Asuka was in a good mood, she loved to show off by displaying how much more she knew than you.

Glancing up, he watched her fiddle incessantly with the A10 things in her hair. As if they might have floated away in the five seconds between her last touch.

He hadn't seen her this excited for anything in a while. Three months ago they completed their training with Weissenburg and hadn't been back to Gehirn since. Asuka was decidedly sullen after he left, to say the least. He still remembered the vile mood she'd been in the day their drill instructor was set to leave. They were waiting out in the lobby – the one with the painting of Eden – for Misato.

Shinji had wondered aloud where the man was. He'd been thinking of saying goodbye.

Asuka was facing away from him, chin leaning on one hand. "Who cares?" she said, folding her legs up on the chair. Shinji deflated. Though he'd never gotten the sense that the man liked him much, he couldn't deny the elation he felt whenever he was at Weissenburg's side. Whenever he did well in training and was given an approving nod. How hard he fought just for the chance to hear his praise.

He'd never paid as much attention to his studies as he did to Weissenburg's instruction. As difficult as it was sometimes, as much as Asuka on occasion outperformed him, still he latched to the Captain's every word and every movement. He thought of one day being a man like Weissenburg. Then maybe the Order of Malta might invite him to join their ranks, so he could be a real knight instead of a pretend one.

Ambling up, Shinji muttered he was going to go look for him. Asuka didn't say anything as he left. He found Weissenburg in the locker rooms down by the training stadiums, setting his belongings in a duffel bag with steady purpose.

"Misato called you a wolf," Shinji said. It had been bothering him for a while now. The two had never been very friendly, not so far as he could tell, but they'd never appeared cold towards one another. Not until recently.

The man didn't seem surprised at the news. If someone had called Shinji a wolf, he'd at least wonder why.

"I have no claws or fangs," Weissenburg said, expression stony, but the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Shinji nodded. "That's what I said. 'Well, he's still a beast' she said." Misato hadn't said it with a smile, either. She spoke to the man less than before, not even making small talk like she used to just because she hated silence. For the most part, Misato seemed to be putting an effort towards keeping Weissenburg at a distance now.

To Shinji, it had started once the UN lady Bolkovac left. Well, he assumed she must have left. It'd been a while since he'd even seen her. When he asked, on one seemed able to tell him where'd she gone, or why.

The rustle of clothing stopped, the man's hand freezing halfway to the bag. The shadow of mirth was swept away as he finished the motion and drew a small leather bound book from within. Weissenburg sat down on a nearby bench, one hand sliding over the cover and dipping into the pressed letters of the title. Shinji couldn't read it from where he was.

Several times, he glanced at Shinji, uncertain. "This was my sister's favorite book as a child... I'd lost it until recently."

"What's it about?"

Weissenberg grasped it firmly in both hands.

"Once..." he finally said, struggling for words. "there was a girl who hadn't seen her mother in seven years," he went on, almost to himself. For a moment he again eyed Shinji. "Her mother dressed her in iron clothes and she was locked away in the King's castle. He told her when she wore out the clothes, she could go back to her mother. So, she rubbed herself against the walls to scrape and tear them, until finally she was free... and set out from the castle walls. Traveling through the woods to her home, she met a wolf."

"The wolf asked her whether she would take the path of pins or the path of needles to go home. The girl said the path of needles, so the wolf hurried off down the path of pins and killed her mother. When she arrived, the girl was tired from her long journey, and climbed into bed with the wolf, now disguised as her mother."

"What happened then?" Shinji asked.

Weissenburg paused, setting the book in his bag again and zipping it closed. Shoulders slumped, hands on his thighs, Shinji could almost see the man's thoughts drifting elsewhere. "The wolf ate her."

Sister Cécile had told him a story like this before, but the answer still made his skin crawl. In a way, it nearly made him angry. All of these old stories didn't make sense, and he was starting to agree with Asuka that they weren't good for anything but scaring little children.

He wasn't a child.

"If she hadn't taken off the iron clothes, then she wouldn't have been eaten." Shinji said, though by Weissenburg's cloudy gaze, an answer wasn't expected, and he tried further to piece the story together.

Finally, he asked, "why did the wolf kill her?"

Still Weissenburg wouldn't look at him. "What else would a beast do?"

Shinji stared down between his shoes, cold trickling up his legs. He should have been able to realize that. Part of him probably did, but asked in hopes of another answer.

"There are things I can't train you for," Weissenburg said, setting one of his large hands over the back of Shinji's neck. "Should you have to face them, you will either be a beast, or a child trapped in iron clothes."

Why did he have to be one or the other? What could there possibly be that Weissenburg wasn't able to train him for? Because of him, Shinji knew more about guns than most other kids his age. Had been taught how to survive in the wilderness. To focus his front sight and tune out the world around him to hit targets like a certified marksman. Knew navigation and the methods of evasion. Understood squad tactics, disarming an opponent, and all the soft parts of the body to wound and clot.

He would never be like that girl trapped in iron and eaten by wolves.

The warmth of a his thumb rubbing under Shinji's ear left. Weissenburg hefted his duffel bag and the heavy fall of his boots faded in favor of the rumbling air vents. That was the last time he ever saw him.

The atmosphere around Gehirn had been choked after that, as if someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the building. People exchanged cursory glances, expected hellos and goodbyes, but never strayed to talk. Never let the tension in their shoulders ease.

Something had happened, though no one would say what. For a time, he and Asuka weren't called back, and even Misato had disappeared for a while. She hadn't even told him she was leaving – or where. He'd forgiven her as soon as she'd come back a few weeks ago, though.

Currently, Asuka leaned into him, peering at his phone screen while he played Castle Crushers 2.

"You two ready to go, or what?" behind them a lavender haired woman was leaning on the threshold of the back door.

"Misato!"

"Hey, kiddo," she said as he ran up to greet her, ruffling his hair.

He glowered, trying to push her arm away – and failing. "I'm not a kid! I'm eleven."

"Oh, well excuse me," she laughed, dragging him close as her knuckles dug into his hair.

"Stop– Misato!" he growled, desperately trying to wiggle out from under her arm. She loosened her grip, but didn't let up. "I said stop!" he yelled, finally managing to push her away.

"Oh, don't be such a brat," she pouted when he glared at her. His anger did somersaults in his stomach as he realized how close they'd been. He looked away in the same second, shame creeping across his cheeks. Why'd she have to treat him like a baby all the time? He just wanted... well, he didn't know what he wanted. But the notion was something interesting – disturbing even – and all around uncomfortable.

As Asuka walked up, he saw her eyes squinch for just a moment, then she pinched his cheek. He jerked away, retaliating with a half-hearted punch to her arm.

"Ow! That hurt!"

Maybe more than half-hearted. Asuka reached for him. He grabbed her wrists and struggled to keep her at bay as she pushed against him.

"Hey, hey–!" Misato grabbed an arm each to pull them apart. "Knock it off! Geez..." she sighed, turning to travel back through the house.

Shinji started to follow, only to be knocked back as Asuka moved ahead, sticking her tongue out. By the time they reached the car, she had already rushed to jump into the front passenger seat. Failing to hide a scowl – much to the redhead's satisfaction – he climbed into the back and begrudgingly buckled in.


They soon left the countryside behind and wound a familiar path through Berlin. Misato stopped the car several times at checkpoints manned by armed guards in tan uniforms. Soon enough, they rode up along twelve foot high concrete walls rimmed with curling spindles of barbed-wire. At the final gate, Misato had her I.D. scanned one last time before the iron blockades slipped down to let them pass.

The humble offices he'd come to know and mostly dislike had been transformed into a small fortress of glass facades preceded by elevated decks, reached via a long series of stairs broken up by gardened terraces.

"Welcome to NERV-03! Quaint little place." Misato said as they rolled into a parking spot. Adults marched up and down the grand stairways, sporting suits or uniforms, a murmur of conversation and activity traveling over the courtyard.

"Race you to the top!" Asuka shouted, bolting up the steps. He wasn't far behind.

She beat him to top, only just, and turned as he staggered up the last few steps, lungs starving for oxygen. "What took you so long?" she asked, breathless.

He fixed her with a glare, ignoring the jibe. "I would've... won if you hadn't... cheated."

"Asuka Langley Soryu never cheats... you're just mad because I'm faster than you."

They walked to a gap under the tall windows stretching over the entrance, descending a ramp into the AC where lines of people waited before metal doors and watchful guards. Above the row of seven gates it read NERV-03 Terminal 14.

"Why are there so many soldiers here?" Shinji asked.

"NERV is a special agency under the UN," Misato answered, "so they have to make sure it's well protected. Now get your card out."

They had to scan their cards individually, and once through, boarded an elevator. Shinji counted the levels as they ticked by.

"Asuka's already heard it, but everything past this point is Top Secret, got it?" she said, fixing him with a long, level look.

"Uh, okay?"

The elevator dinged and they departed, reaching a door labeled: RESTRICTED AREA – Authorized Personnel Only. Misato slid her card once more before placing her palm on a grid-lined screen. A moment later it pinged in success and they descended further still into the base, guided down an icy hall with ribbed panels. Just when Shinji thought it might go on forever, a door at its end yielded to a room full of computers, tall towers with green lights flickering behind glass ports standing guard along the walls. In front of them was a table with a shimmering sky-blue surface, a hologram of – well he wasn't really sure what he was looking at. Serial numbers and other redoubts shifted around luminous models of limbs.

A few people with headsets manned some of the terminal stations, one woman sparing them a disinterested glance.

Asuka bolted across the room towards the floor-to-ceiling windows and Shinji followed. A massive chamber at least twenty stories high was laid out before them: within which was a giant figure, though much of it was concealed by sheets of white tarp and a web-like structure of scaffolding and mezzanines that supported a series of armatures.

Shinji gasped. "Wow! It's a person – a giant person!"

"This is Evangelion Unit-02," Misato said, leaning against the window next to him.

"My Eva!" Asuka cheered, pressing up against the glass.

The door to their right slid into the wall, introducing them to a familiar German doctor. He looked a bit more weathered since they'd last seen him, harder lines under his eyes and a much paler complexion. Other people wearing white lab coats entered with him. Most didn't linger, save two. The Japanese man caught Shinji's eye right away, though he seemed more bored than anything, as if there were somewhere else he'd rather be. The second person was probably the tallest in the group, dull brown hair cut short, framing her high cheek bones and squared chin.

"There you are! I've – uh," Lützow paused, a disparaging glance flickering towards his companions, "we've, been waiting for you."

The Japanese man's eyes fixed on Misato. "You are late."

"I... got lost?" she ventured.

"Who're you?" Asuka asked, as if in challenge.

Lützow failed to suppress a grimace as he combed a hand through his graying hair. "Ah, yes, introductions I suppose. Asuka, Shinji: this is the new Assistant Director from Fourth Branch's Technological Division. She was just transferred over..."

"Alyona Moskva," she said, brown-green eyes almost curious.

"And this–"

"Inazuma Fuse," he said, drawing a scowl from Lützow. "Head of Research, Headquarters Division."

Lützow grunted. "Right, well, might as well show you around before we get started." he led them through the left side of the control room, down a curving path that brought them into the bright, sterile light of Unit-02's housing. They were on the highest gantry, able to overlook the entire facility and its bustling crews.

"This is what we're piloting?" Shinji asked, practically hanging over the railing.

Asuka shot him a glare. "No one but me gets to pilot this one."

"That's right," Lützow said with a tight smirk, "but you are correct, Shinji. We've spent a very long time preparing the Evangelions."

"You've only built this one," Inazuma said. "After Tokyo developed the prototypes."

"I was referring to NERV's collective efforts. Unless Tokyo is going to claim they've done this all by themselves?"

Inazuma's eyes squinched, and he looked to have more to say, but held his tongue. After a brief glaring match, both decided to stand down, all while Moskva sported a growing grimace.

Shinji was practically boiling over with questions, but settled on the most obvious. "How does it work?"

"That's a rather broad question," Moskva said, only a bit of a Russian accent creeping through her German. "Do you mean to ask how you control it?"

He nodded.

"To put it simply, the answer is through electrochemical communication."

At Shinji's befuddled look, Lützow poked his head. "With your thoughts."

"Oh," his brow furrowed, "why's it have to be so big?"

"Who cares!?" Asuka barked, excited more than anything else. She grabbed his arm, tugging him down the gantry to show him its head. She pointed to all the different parts, listing off in rapid fire where the entry plug was supposed to go and where all the different weapons were going to be. But the only part they could really see was the chest, shining segmented steel plates coming together at a downward point.

"So, it's silver?"

"No, that's just the base metal. They haven't painted it yet." her eyes widened and she let out a small gasp. "Misato! Tell them to paint it red!"

The woman chuckled. "I'll see what we can do, Asuka."

She smiled and looked back down at Unit-02, going on about her Eva and how it was going to be the best – way better than the two in Japan. He wouldn't know. Her expression was the brightest he'd ever seen it. That was good. He didn't like to see her as quiet and mopey as she had been the past few months. She was a lot less grumpy now too.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinked, a smile he didn't realize he was wearing dropping from his face. He leaned forward against the railing, pretending to have found something of immense interest down below. "Like what? I wasn't doing anything."

"You were – weirdo!" she said, poking his chest.

"I wasn't!"

Lützow stuffed a hand in his lab-coat pocket, the other snapping in quick succession as he about faced. "Come along – we still have a lot to do tonight," he said, and Asuka ribbed Shinji the whole way, grin only widening when he complained she was too close and that he didn't want to talk to her. Only 'cause she knew he didn't mean it.


The locker room was frigid, chilling his bones and turning the quick change of attire into a race to escape the cold. A race he was losing. It had taken him almost fifteen minutes to get the stupid suit on. There was a thin black mesh on the inside, but it didn't make it any easier to fit into the thing. Misato said if he didn't have it on tight around his arms and legs it wouldn't seal properly. He adjusted the chest piece a few more times, hoping he was doing it right and far too embarrassed to go ask his caretaker for help. Clamping the neck-piece together like he'd been shown, Shinji clicked the device at his wrist and jumped when the suit snap-hissed to his body.

He checked himself, making sure everything was where it should be. The suit itself was mostly white, with a few red markings here and there, the black mesh revealing itself between a few of the angled plates over his stomach. Kind of like the Eva, he thought. Though the armor, if he could really call it that, was just a hard kind of plastic. Or so he guessed. It was bulky around his shoulders and chest, but not top heavy.

The suit creaked as he walked towards what Misato called the Testing Chambers. A shiver scuttled down his spine and he stopped in his tracks.

A pool of translucent red liquid stretched out before him. Wires and tubes spilled from the low ceiling, connecting into ports at the neck of a figure with a head either made of metal or held in some kind of thick mask. His gut sank as he took in the depth of the tanks, the thing inside little more than a torso with two arms that cut off at the wrists. There was a cavity in its sternum, occupied by something that looked mechanical, at least from where he was. There were two other pools within the corridor, marked off with black and yellow strips of caution paint.

A finger jabbing him in the side made Shinji jump, though he stifled a yelp.

"Ooh, Shinji, when did you get so muscly?" Misato cooed, giving his bicep a squeeze. He yanked his arm away and she giggled.

"Stop teasing me," he grumbled, taking a step back – from both Misato and the red pool. "What is that?"

She shrugged. "Just a dummy. It's supposed to simulate the piloting process. Or so I'm told."

Asuka came in from the opposite end of the Testing Chambers in a suit not unlike his. Most of it was similarly a plain white, the torso sporting red colorations. It was shaped differently, yet had the same large print 'TEST' just where the collar bones met. She moved easily in it. Not in the awkward, stiff way Shinji did.

"I hate this suit," she sighed, nose twitching as her eyes fixed to the top of his head. She reached up and adjusted his headset.

"Why are we wearing these?" he asked as she positioned it to her liking.

Before Asuka could answer, Lützow came stumbling over a wire from across the pool. "We're going to start testing your ability to synchronize with the Evangelion," he said, fiddling with an open panel.

"Synchronize?"

"Mhm. It is what will allow you to issue mental commands to the Eva, controlling it as if it were your own body."

Shinji followed Lützow up a set of grated stairs alongside the suspended head, the walkway curving in an arc around the back. A long, white cylinder was waiting there, sitting upon a ringed platform, the base of it touching the water where it would meet the mutilated body's spine. Along its length were the words – EVA-01 PROTOTYPE. Underneath that, in much smaller print, was a serial number and the date: 05-07-2004 /Obsolete/ stamped in red paint.

"This is the technology that will allow you to link with the Evangelion," Lützow said, patting the white tube affectionately. "You'll be situated in the command suite here and submerged in LCL."

Moskva stepped up next to Misato. "It's going to feel like you're drowning when the LCL fills your lungs. But once that happens, your blood will be oxygenated directly."

"So I'll still be able to breathe?"

"Essentially."

Asuka pushed her nose up with a thumb. "You have to suck it in through your nose. It hurts more, but you choke less."

That managed a half-smirk. "What is it for?"

"The LCL acts like a communication link. The A-tens," Lützow tapped Shinji's headset, "bounce your thoughts through the LCL, which channels them as commands to the Eva's brain. Much easier than trying to create an uplink by jamming a neural interface into your skull, eh?"

Shinji didn't think that was as funny as Lützow did. He looked to the head facing down in the liquid. "It has a brain?"

"Purely cybernetic..." Moskva said, "it can't actually think for itself."

Shinji supposed that was why they needed a pilot.

"It is there to decipher the neural input from the pilot," Inazuma said, as if put upon. "This communication between pilot and machine happens all the quicker the higher your synchronization rates with it are."

Shinji nodded, and they took the time to explain a few features of the entry plug – primarily where the emergency exit hatch was and the manual release. Lützow then took Asuka to an adjacent chamber, while Inazuma left for the control room and Moskva coached him on the command suite. She said for now he didn't have to do much more than sit there. So he settled himself inside, finding the oversized chair surprisingly comfortable. It actually reminded him a bit of an airplane cockpit, and was kind of awesome. Then the hatch sealed and he immediately wanted out.

But he couldn't quit now. Not with Asuka and Misato and everyone else watching. The former would never let him live it down. He swallowed down his trepidation. A few lights at the rear of the plug snapped on and he felt it spin, waiting long minutes in the semi-darkness.

A radio-link buzzed to life. "Begin LCL injection," Lützow said.

"Roger, flooding entry plug."

A thick, soupy orange substance slowly spilled in from the bottom of the plug, rising steadily. It was cold as it started to swallow his legs, until the suit regulated the temperature. He braced himself as it reached his neck, swallowing in as it reached over his head. He gagged, a headache pulsing to life in his sinuses. He did feel like he was drowning – all at once he couldn't breathe and liquid was spilling down his throat. Bile tickled his trachea, but he held it down despite his panic. At last the LCL pooled into his lungs and he could breathe again – yet he couldn't. He had the air but didn't need to... well, to breathe for it.

White and black splotches burst over his vision at the sensation. Shinji gripped the control sticks tighter.

"Beginning primary contact."

"Inserting synapses, connecting junctions."

"Transmitting pulse."

Status lights winked to life on his plugsuit, and he could feel tiny conductors vibrating between the mesh and plating.

"Begin secondary contact."

"Roger, connecting interface."

"Connecting A-ten nerve-links."

Shinji flinched as thin, invisible strands of wire cut and dipped into his brain, weaving through tissue and spiraling out into the LCL. Parts of him were everywhere. His thoughts felt loose, drifting out into nothing, like his dreams with the dark ocean. The wires took the drifting bits and sewed them back in place, bit by bit.

"All circuits are operational. A-ten connection is nominal."

"LCL charge is normal."

As they spoke a wash of colors and spectrums flared within the plug, pulsing over his head before coalescing into a view of the Testing Chamber. The LCL elicited a snap-hiss as the orange hue was whisked away to become clear.

"Borderline clear, checking harmonic values."

"Base proto-synchronization rate calculated."

He felt fuzzy. Every sliver of skin was numb – and he blinked, trying to clear his eyes. He went from having a headache to something like a sledge hammer shattering his skull open. He was told he would get used to it.

Asuka's face sprang up beside him and he hollered. Then, curious, waved his hand through the holographic panel. Asuka laughed on the other side.

"Hey, how'd you do that?" he asked, glancing from her to the controls and trying to remember everything Moskva had told him. Was that button there for manual LCL drain? Those switches there maybe? Or was that just part of the mock-up combat suite?

"You don't have to open another window, dummy. I'm broadcasting to your plug!"

"Children," Lützow sighed, "please do not be disruptive, these tests require as little outside interference and stimuli as possible."

Shinji didn't really hear him as Asuka started making faces, and he was half smiling, batting his hand at the screen and trying to figure out how to make it go away. Then he remembered what Inazuma said. "Wait, let me try."

Voices from the control center made resigned comments as Shinji took hold of the controls and closed his eyes, trying to think. Except he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to be thinking, and just imagined his face popping up in Asuka's plug.

Error notifications cropped up and the pressure on Shinji's brain increased tenfold. He grabbed his head, fighting a frown. Asuka leaned closer to the window, as if that would allow her to peer further into his plug, half-concerned and half-annoyed. "It's not a thought-impulse, idiot. The controls are–"

"Please disconnect her uplink."

Her window was whisked away, and for a moment he swore he could hear the echo of a frustrated howl from the comm line in the control center.


After the initial shock wore off, sitting in the entry plug was actually very boring. He could imagine it was different operating with the real thing, but for the next hour all he did was sit there while the controllers occasionally muttered operational markers over the radio.

At last they told him he was done and drained the plug before sliding the hatch open. He hung over the side for a few minutes, hocking up the LCL that clung stubbornly to his throat. Thankfully, Misato soon arrived with a towel.

They had him standing over a grated area, still dripping a bit with the orange stuff that filled his nostrils with the scent of copper. He'd been given another towel to dry his head with, but didn't want to change and shower just yet. He was, from a non-invasive distance, watching over the shoulder of a technician as readings and gauges for Asuka's plug fluctuated.

"Why has the Research Division waited so long to start testing him?" he heard Misato ask in a hushed tone. He pretended to be absorbed in the computer screen. "And why here? Shouldn't they have taken him to HQ by now?"

"Direct– I mean, Commander Ikari's orders," Lützow answered. "We have the core unit – and the original plug they used for the contact experiment will suffice for testing until the streamline models are ready. As to why, I couldn't be certain. It seems the Commander wanted to be sure he could even synchronize before transferring him."

Commander? His father? That must mean he was in charge of the Headquarters Asuka was talking about.

"Wasn't that why he was picked? Didn't the Marduk Institute identify him?"

Shinji caught Lützow's shrug, a pause between them as he looked to a readout across the room. "Everyone on their list is a candidate, but that doesn't mean they are all able to take the mental strain."

Though he couldn't see her, Shinji imagined Misato must've made a puzzled look.

Inazuma spoke softly. "Some are more suited to piloting that others."

"It just seems odd they wouldn't want to start syncing him with Unit-one as soon as possible," she said.

Shinji spun around. "Misato, when will my Eva be done?"

She jumped and her eyes widened a little. If they were just testing him because his Eva wasn't ready, the sooner it was finished, the sooner his father would call him home. For the first time in a while he thought of that stupid letter he'd tore up. He didn't have long left.

"Um, I'm not sure, kiddo. I think they're nearly done with final assembly. Testing trials are supposed to start early twenty-fourteen."

Moskva made a wry face. "I should hope so, we need the data from Unit-one if we're going to have the production model ready on schedule. First and Second Branch are antsy enough as it is."

Lützow waved his hand. "They won't even have the muscular layers fully formed for another year at least – they can make adjustments. The U.S. is probably just upset they won't have a functioning Evangelion before everyone else."

Inazuma nodded. "We could have had them done much sooner, if China had signed off in two-thousand six. They're only now jumping on the band wagon because they see it can be done."

"After losing the entirety of their coastal provinces, feeding and housing a few million refugees did seem a more pressing issue than some theoretical war machine," Moskva said.

"They knew what the stakes were," Lützow spat. "The Protectorate was just upset over all of the sanctions put on them in the Valentines Treaty. I only hope their bitterness hasn't set us back."

At that, Inazuma's eyes settled directly on Shinji's, and he felt invisible hands clamping around his spine. "So do we all."


Tests at NERV took up their days just as the training with Weissenburg had. Even here, Asuka was adored by the mostly German staff, treating her as they might their own daughter. That usually left him with Moskva, Inazuma and Misato. The first peered past everyone, as if waiting for a future that couldn't arrive fast enough, and the second was much like Teacher – distant and flat – though sharpened with a bitter condescension.

Really, it didn't feel any different from school, even if there were plenty of people from other countries there. Moskva explained that NERV was a global organization, but there were very few on the research team who weren't German.

Moskva was always very serious, to the point where he was frightened of making any kind of mistake during his tests. After each one, she would bring him into the control room so he could read the synchronization charts, filled out with data collected from the plug. He didn't really understand it and Moskva never explained. Though he deciphered it enough to find his sync ratio aligned within the tabs labeled 'nerve connectors'.

When he asked Asuka about it, her answer made his jaw drop. "36%?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Yeah, what's yours?"

13.1%

"I– I dunno."

From then on, he tried to make the percentage go up for his tests. He didn't actually know what he was supposed to do to make that happen, but it crawled its way higher and higher, little by little, and each time Moskva would take him to the in-house food court and buy him whatever he wanted. She never smiled and they never talked. All the same, he never stopped trying to get that number higher.


It was morning. Shinji was preparing for yet another school day, clad in the usual uniform for his grade level: dark blue khakis and jacket. He left his white undershirt untucked for the time being. Asuka would fuss over it later and he couldn't be bothered. It was just too early.

As he stepped across the Langley's back porch, he thought, with some amusement, back to her birthday the year before last when she'd turned 10.

A wretched cough tore its way out of Asuka's throat, the kind you could imagine ripping someone's lungs to shreds. Her body convulsed as it triggered a bout of hacking. She fell back into her pillows, exhausted, sporting a puffy red nose and pale cheeks.

"Asuka?" he asked from the doorway to her room. Her head rolled towards him, bed sheets shifting.

"Hey, Shinji," she rasped, barely above a whisper, a small cough shaking her chest. Mrs Langley touched a hand to his back, urging him forward. He'd spied Herr Langley down in the kitchen, garbed in an olive green uniform with golden pins and buttons, a dozen colored ribbons adorning his chest. The man had spared him a glance and a small smile as he passed.

Shinji sat in the empty chair at Asuka's bedside, taking in her heavy eyelids and wondering what could make her so sick. She'd been absent from school yesterday, sending him frowny faces over text. Mrs Langley said it was strep throat, but for all he knew it could be some deadly foreign disease.

Asuka pulled the covers up over her nose, so all he could see were her eyes. "Don't look at me. I'm gross." her muffled voice said.

He chuckled. It was supposed to be her birthday today. So long as he'd known her, she'd never celebrated them in any spectacular fashion. Her parents always made an attempt, but she always found a way to throw it back in their faces, so they'd stopped trying. Birthday parties were for little kids, or so she said. His own birthdays weren't much of an event either. They came and went like any other day.

For her birthday this year, he'd bought her more charcoal sticks and a new hair brush. Misato hadn't been around to give him another loan for jewelry.

"Are you gonna' be okay?" he asked as she finished yet another coughing fit.

"'Course I am, dummy," she croaked, coughing once more.

He tried and failed to stifle a laugh, to which she hid further under the covers. "I'm sick... you're supposed to be nice to me," she groaned.

'I'm always nice to you', he wanted to say, but knew it wasn't true. When he was quiet, she poked her whole face out of the covers to rasp, "Make me tea."

So he did.

Shinji visited her every day for the next two and half weeks. More than a few days he just skipped school to stay in her room while her father and step-mother worked, making her tea and soft foods. Asuka said he was stupid for missing school, but didn't tell him to leave. She couldn't talk very much anyway. Some days she wouldn't be able to speak at all. He never thought he would end up wishing she could. There was one evening while the sun was coming in through the other end of her room, casting his shadow on the wall next to her.

Fighting utter boredom, she made him fetch the charcoal he'd bought for her, and started to outline him on the wall next to her.

He noticed, while trying to do homework, that she stopped halfway looking discontent.

Shinji tripped stepping into the foyer. He caught himself, shaking his head as he started to climb up the oaken steps. It was odd, as a child the house had always looked so big. Now that he was older, he realized it wasn't quite a mansion, especially compared to some of the other countryside dwellings in Berlin. Still, it was a spacious home and denoted just how well off the family was.

Up the stairs and down the hall to his right, he made a brief knock as he pushed the door open "Asuka? Come on, we're gonna' be late. You always–"

"Get out!" she screeched, clutching a towel to herself.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted, unable to stagger from the room quick enough. Something whacked against the door as he closed it, heart trying its damnedest to hammer its way out of his chest.

"Dammit, Shinji! You– you stupid idiot!"

Muffled curses echoed at him from the other side and all the awkward lessons from those sex-ed classes came flooding back, entirely without consent. He took several steps away from the door, as if that would separate him from them. Why was his face so hot? Why were his hands shaking? It was just Asuka – he hadn't seen anything. At least he didn't think he had... had he?

The door swung open, revealing a fully dressed and very peeved Asuka. "What gave you the idea you could just walk into a girl's room without permission?!"

He held his hands up. "I-I don't know, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't you try using that peanut you call a brain next time?!" she demanded, pushing past him and storming down the hall.

"Asuka..." he hurried to keep pace as she thundered down the stairs. She didn't respond. "Come on, I said I was sorry."

"'Cause that just fixes everything, doesn't it?" she snapped.

He stopped on the steps. "You barge into my room without asking all the time."

"So? That's different," she said, bag over her shoulder. Then she realized he wasn't following. "Don't just stand there! We're gonna be late and you're already pissing me off this morning!"

Asuka turned out the door and he rushed down after her. "How is it different? And what's your problem anyway? I didn't even see anything!"

"That's not the point!" she hollered, clambering into the car. They both jerked with angry movements, buckling in and then crossing their arms. Asuka crossed her legs, an added layer.

Shinji, fuming, was fine with playing their game of silence until first period. They would calm down enough by then. Berlin soon rolled into view, road humming beneath them.

Asuka clicked her tongue and settled back. "If it bothered you so much why didn't you say anything?"

"You wouldn't have cared even if it did," he said, still bitter.

"Yeah because it never bothered you, so that's a stupid argument."

Shinji gave it up. "Whatever." she would just keep arguing with him and he didn't want to do that the whole car ride over to school. Asuka was overbearing enough without him trying to get her mad. Best to just give up rather than make a big deal about it.

They went their separate ways at the Kloster, and Herr Wilhelm chastised him for his sloppy state of dress as he shambled into first period.

That was more or less the last time he ever went to fetch her for school. It turned out waiting by the front door was much safer. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he could never quite manage to expunge the incident from his mind. Sync-training at NERV continued, and Shinji tried not to be around when Asuka was in her suit.


Back in the 5th grade, Asuka was enrolled into the upper level classes, sitting with the eleventh and twelfth graders for physics and mathematics. The first year of advanced courses was, as she explained, just primer for the actual courses, which covered any subject one could imagine.

He, on the other hand, was on intermediate level and intended to stay there. Just thinking about taking on all of Asuka's extra schooling made his stomach queasy. She almost seemed annoyed that he wasn't in the upper level too. As if he'd chosen to make her do it all alone. Maybe she should have stayed in the intermediate level if that's the way she felt about it.

Ever since they'd started going to school together, grades, like everything else in their friendship, turned into a battle to outdo one another. Just last year Shinji had had the audacity to consistently gain a higher grade than her in religious doctrine, particularly on the presentations, which she didn't have patience for. What a great month of gloating that had been. She earned her comeback when he scored low on social competence for group projects.

Once she moved on to the upper level, he couldn't be bothered to put as much effort in. Nowadays he was, more often than not, forced to spend time in Silentium to play catchup on homework. Asuka wasn't around much to help anymore and berated him every time he complained about it.

"God, you're frustrating!"

Shinji pulled down at an eyelid. "And you're annoying."

"I'm a princess and I'm prefect," she said, flipping her hair.

"If I poked your head with a needle, would it pop?"

"How about I poke your ribs with my fist?!" And she did. Except it was a full-on punch, and he was laughing while she tried, desperately, to hold onto her anger instead of falling into a fit of giggles herself. His dismissive escapes didn't last, and Asuka started getting legitimately upset with him. To the point where he wouldn't hear from her for a day. Not even a text.

Then for two weeks, she'd gone through a social internship with a hospital for the mentally ill in Bethel. The texts had been practically non-stop, and he wondered what she was even doing up there if she had time to send him so many messages. She wasn't actually an intern too, only helped the coordinator. To gain exposure, they said.

She told him how she found other things to do whenever they had to work with the patients, making it look like she was being busy inputting data, which she couldn't stand. She also hated talking to them, especially the ones with alzheimers who couldn't remember her name. She'd call him at night and they'd talk for a couple hours, or until one of them fell asleep.

When Asuka got back, she hugged him for a very long moment, and vowed she'd never set foot in another hospital again.

Ilka didn't come to visit that Thanksgiving, or come to take them into Berlin for the Christmas Market. But she did write Asuka letters. At first, Shinji expected her to just tear them up and sprinkle them in the trash. Instead, she set time aside to write a letter back while lounging on his bed.

"I thought you didn't like talking to Oma anymore?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It's not really a big deal. I'm only writing her because she's old and probably gonna' die soon."

He knew better than that.

Slowly, time together became more of a rarity. Asuka had her advanced classes. He had Silentium. She made friends in a few of the upper level students – and some afternoons would be out with them, not arriving home until later in the night. It was mostly girls, and she seemed to do her best to steer clear of Shinji whenever they were around.

Along with that, girls started giving him looks or would giggle whenever he passed by, hands covering their mouths as they whispered to one another. He saw them differently now, unsure of what exactly had changed. A girl in one of his morning classes, Laurena, drew a lot of eyes, and many more envious looks. She had straight black hair and had started wearing a bra before any of the other girls. It was distracting.

More than that, he watched as boys from other classes would stare after Asuka. She began finding notes at her desk, ripping them up and throwing them in the trash without ever reading them. Others tried a more direct approach. One even offered her a handful of flowers, only to be turned away when she declared she didn't go out with little boys. It made his stomach churn and he wouldn't be able to focus on any of the lessons, tapping his pencil against the desk, chewing on the eraser instead when the teacher snapped at him for it.

Between school and NERV, she didn't come over to his house all that much either. When she did come to the garden, she always had her homework, making him study with her out on the back porch or by the pond.

The gardens died and overgrew in places, while he watched from his small island, unable to stop the change.