Commander Ikari was not paternal. He had cast those virtues aside once he took this course. Most casual observers however, thought of him as such whenever he interacted with Rei. They were wise however, to not comment openly. In the memory-transfer/stabilization tank, Ayanami Rei floated in the oxygenated fluid. Gendo stood outside at the console, silent and unwavering.

The First Child could be described as apathetic, but that only covered a tiny fraction of what one meant. For most people, apathy was the feeling one experienced when tasked with something they found both distasteful and mentally unengaging; they were incapable of even mustering the needed energy to grow irked at their situation. Apathy was what one felt when they put off emptying the garbage two, three weeks in a row, no matter what it did to their hygiene.

The description was muddled further, when people see Ayanami's almost mythic focus on any given objective. She attended class infrequently, but since her entrance into public education, she never missed an assignment, nor scored less than one hundred percent on any standardized test. Her grades suffered, when confronted with assignments that involved personal feelings or expression.

Apathetic, Unswerving, possessing dedication to one's objectives to the point of madness; these were all qualities of Ayanami Rei.

Another quality, with associated behaviors that the uneducated would classify as bipolar, was her willful subordination and dedication to the Evangelion, and by extension, Commander Ikari. Rei could move from unresisting, unobtrusive and quiet to animated, lively, and one could almost say bubbly.

If Gendo were a more emotive man, he would've found her behavior both endearing and bitter.

The memory transfer room was otherwise empty and silent, aside from the persistent thrum of pumps circulating LCL. If Rei gave any indication to her discomfort, floating naked in that tank, she never once mentioned it. Rarely did she speak while undergoing the record process.

"Commander."

"Rei."

The First was quiet for a moment. Not altogether unheard of. "Has the Third Child been briefed on the Light of the Soul?"

Gendo blinked, but his response was fluid and unhesitating. "The Third Child does not have an AT field like you, his Light of the Soul remains inverted, like the rest of humanity."

Rei didn't respond for several minutes. "What is his power, then?"

The older man's voice did not waver, nor did he dignify his response with inflection or verbal tic. "An anomaly, nothing more." He reached over and began ending the transfer process. "We're finished here."

Rei nodded and closed her eyes while the LCL began to drain.

"Rei." He didn't bother looking up.

A pair of red eyes opened. "Yes Commander."

"From now on, the pilots will have separate facilities for training and sortie, in the interim, you must limit contact with the Third Child. Observe, but do not interact."

Her eyes closed. "Understood."


Saturday. For most students it was only a half day of class. For Shinji, it was Evangelion Simulation Training.

Ritsuko leaned into the microphone, and Shinji could hear the grin in her voice. "Okay Shinji, you've had enough of basic procedures. We've destroyed enough dummy angels."

Shinji slewed the control sticks around and locked onto another virtual opponent. It dissolved into junk graphical data after liberal perforation. He grinned to himself. "Target Centered, pull the switch."

Ritsuko snorted. "Very funny. We can't afford to have you going through the motions with every fight. Now you've proved you can take initiative... But we have tactics and strategies for a reason."

The pilot nodded and pulled the Evangelion back to a neutral position. "Understood."

He flipped through the interface displays, before he settled on a pectoral camera that had a view of the control room. Doctor Agaki had somehow managed to figure out which camera he was using in two seconds. It was oddly unnerving making eye contact through the mental 'window'. He shook his head but the image did not leave him. The woman kept taking, but Shinji had lost his train of thought.

Full scale testing like this was in a large chamber, where massive umbilical cables and bypass conduits were attached to the biomachine. They intercepted the nerve impulses from plug to the lower limbs, substituting the Evangelion's legs for a virtual copy. Ritsuko didn't explain much else.

She tabbed through the weapon database. "You're checked out on the pallet rifle. It's a stopgap. I won't lie." She flicked the technical specifications over to Shinji's wetware interface. The information was mostly a jumble of numbers and lines, but he felt better being able to see it. He subconsciously tried to look 'up' at Ritsuko, but his vision swam as the Plug tried to interpret his intent.

He wrangled control back to the cameras he wanted, before responding. "Stopgap?"

Ritsuko looked like she wanted to say something, and the other test technicians stopped working to listen. She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I can't really think of a way to explain how badly the pallet rifle was designed, in light of what we now know about the Angels. I suppose the short version is... 'It doesn't work.'"

Shinji blinked and tossed the schematic into the wetware's deletion buffer. "So... What does work?"

Ritsuko sucked on her teeth, aching for a cigarette. "We don't know yet. The Angels don't exist in the same... Space as we do. Not normally. You saw the first Angel when Misato was picking you up, right?"

The pilot busied himself with some manuals while he answered. He didn't want to run into another fiasco without knowing the right documentation... "Yeah."

The other woman pressed on."Did you see how it flickered?"

"...Yeah."

"That was because of their altered space."

Shinji blinked rapidly, and his earlier train of thought derailed. "...So what, the Angels are... Aliens... From another dimension?"

Ritsuko stopped for a moment, and grimaced. "You have no idea how much I want to tell you that is incorrect."

The other technicians in the room all slowed and stoped working, when Ritsuko turned to face a newcomer. Commander Ikari loomed in the doorway. The head of Project E had pulled her hand away from the talk button. Shinji felt the corners of mouth pull back into his cheeks, and his brow furrowed. He tabbed back to the simulation, and sunk back down into repetition.

Target Centered. Pull the Switch. Another simulacrum spun away into nothing, and a duplicate took its place.

Father...

Target Centered. Pull the Switch.

Target Centered.

Pull the Switch.


The drive home was oppressively quiet. The muted thump of air pressure overpowered what little life was in the car. Misato tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, while the Geofront tram cut through the air. "Hey, Shinji-kun?"

The teenager started, before looking up. "Misato-san?"

The older woman gave the boy a kindly sidelong glance. "You were... You were pretty impressive there, back in the simulations. Can I ask what you were thinking about?"

Shinji hunkered back in to his shoulders. "...Nothing in particular."

Misato leaned over the wheel and pillowed her cheek one arm, smiling widely. "C'mon, you can tell me!"

A flickering image of his father appeared in his mind, and Shinji sighed. "... I want to be... Worthy."


Training never seemed to end. It was either school, training his mind, or NERV, training his body. Shinji slumped against the uncomfortable plastic benches. An unopened can of vending-machine iced-tea pressed against a magnificent bruise on his cheek. An older man in a grey NERV uniform and equally grey hair stepped up, a folded wooden box held under his arm.

The old man smiled. "Good afternoon, Ikari-Kun."

Shinji looked up, one blackened eye tracking sluggishly. "Ah... Good afternoon, sir..." He trailed off.

He laughed, eye crinkling. "It's quite alright, I don't think we've been properly introduced. I am Fuyutsuki Kozou, Sub-Commander of NERV and Professor Emeritus of Kyoto University." He smiled wider. " I helped your mother create the discipline of Metaphysical Biology, which makes the Evangelion possible."

Shinji sat up, pain and fatigue forgotten. "My mother?"

The other man sat down on the bench , nodding. "Yes, she was a student of mine, and later became my research assistant, before utterly eclipsing me with her brilliance." Shinji smiled, he hadn't heard anything about his mother in so long...

The older man looked around. "Are you waiting for someone?"

Shinji shook his head. "Akagi-Sensei ran out of things to test today."

Fuyutsuki nodded. "I see. And that injury?"

Shinji winced, and visibly resisted the urge to rub the bruise. "One of the combat instructors, I didn't quite get my defenses up in time."

Fuyutsuki offered his own sympathetic wince, then he stood, offering a hand to the pilot. "Well then, join me in the cafeteria for a lunch? You haven't eaten yet I imagine."

The nearest NERV commissary (Central Dogma was rather large), took them a few minutes to reach. Taken so firmly by stories of his mother in college, Shinji hadn't quite realized they were already seated and served until the Sub-Commander stopped talking. When they finished eating, the Sub-Commander retrieved that wooden box.

"Interested in a game, Ikari-Kun? Your father used to play, but..." Shinji blinked before nodding. "Sure. Chess?" Fuyutsuki confirmed it. Shinji laughed weakly. "I know the rules, but I don't think I'm very good."

The Sub-Commander smiled genially. "We'll see, Ikari-Kun."


It was hardly surprising that Shinji lost two out of three games. But of far more value was the conversation between pilot and sub-commander. They spoke about the boy's mother, the field of metaphysics, all and sundry, for several hours, until Shinji pointed out the elephant.

"...Does it bother you? The..." He waved to his forehead. He didn't like talking about it in words the rest of NERV didn't understand, even if translated.

Fuyutsuki laughed. "I would be lying if I said it didn't bother me, but I am probably far less afraid of you than others I could name. No, I'm more curious." He moved his rook forward to take one of Shinji's pawns. "Has Akagi-Kun informed you of any of her findings?" Shinji shook his head. The older man bit off something that sounded like 'Ethics', before putting the friendly grandfather face back on.

"Your power, this thing you called Exaltation, has anchored itself to your soul. It also apparently verified several ancient spiritual beliefs or understandings about the construction of the human soul itself. During my time as a professor, we theorized the soul was one aspect of our greater self, it was where our... consciousness resided, as much as it did in our brains." Shinji nodded, moving a bishop to put pressure on the black king.

"The Exaltation anchored itself between what we now recognize as two separate aspects of the human soul. Random chance and quirk of the universe aside, you are the greatest find in the history of Metaphysical Biology, Ikari-kun."

Fuyutsuki moved a knight and put Ikari's king into Check. "...And Mate, Ikari-kun, we will have to play again sometime." Shinji nodded, smiling.


Happy Misato was a loud Misato. One can of Yebisu down, many more to go. As the months marched on, Misato had progressively grown more relaxed about her state of dress and general sense of propriety. This was impressive, considering what she thought of as 'decent' before. Shinji for his part was both getting used to and starting to enjoy the sight of Misato not even bothering to get into her room before stripping out of her work clothes.

Pen-Pen nudged Shinji's leg and the boy nodded, smiling. He set down the penguin-pet's dinner with a flourish. "There you go, as you like it!"

The sounds of splashing and relaxation floated through the apartment. Shinji had some time to kill while Misato was in the bath. Ducking into his room, he unearthed his Cello. He was just about to sit down, after having fully unpacked it, when Misato called. He leaned out of his door and looked down the hall. "Y-Yes, Misato-San?"

"Shiiinjii~kuu~un~" Misato sashayed out of the bathroom wrapped in a clinging, damp towel, another held up around her head and hair. Even if he'd already seen her naked, he couldn't quite get over how gorgeous she was.

"I'm in dire need of a back rub! Be totally awesome, my totally awesome roomie?" With a free arm, she kneaded her neck, (never mind that this did interesting things to how well the towel stayed up). Shinji stammered out an agreement. Pillows were laid out, and Misato made a big show of letting the towel drop just so, doing wonderful things to accentuate her figure.

She winked at him. "Relax, I'll be gentle, it's your first time." He sputtered, face twisting into a panicked grin, and very nearly bolted... But the Third Child held his ground.

Giving a massage was a whole different experience than being given one, and it was extremely rewarding. At first he was clumsy, but as he got used to the motions, he started figuring things out. Misato hummed appreciatively. "You're a natural, Shinji-kun."

Once Shinji got over his initial unease, Misato's moans of pleasure began in earnest, even more... Provocative than the ones she made whenever he cooked. She simultaneously relaxed and pushed into his hands. Smiling through the pillow, she murmured. "Mmm... Musician's hands..."

Shinji slowed his massage a touch. "Misato-san... Are you trying to seduce me?"

She turned up, one arm cradling the curve of her breast just so. "A little~, Do you want me to stop?"

Shinji flopped back "...I really have no idea."

He returned to the back rub, his own sense of propriety keeping his hands on track, so to speak, much to Misato's chagrin. After a while, he noticed something. "Misato-san... Are you missing a rib?"

She turned her head to look at him. "...Yes, can you see that from back there?"

Shinji shook his head. "No, I just... Knew it? And that scar... from shrapnel... And, from not being treated quickly."

He seemed to be looking off into the distance, seeing something she couldn't. "You've smoked in the past, not often, but you did ...Your liver is impossible."

Emotions flickered past Misato's face, fear, memory, unease, half a dozen others. When his own face changed, she panicked. "No! Shinji-kun, you haven't done anything wrong! It's just... Bad memories. Second Impact... Only two people know what you just guessed... I doubt Ritsuko told you...?" Shinji shook his head. "And you've never met Kaji, so..." She trailed off, before smiling. "Now you got me all tense again! Get back to back-rubbing Shin-chan!"

It was amazing how fast one could adapt to new circumstances. Crippling fear of alienation and general social panic versus being able to put his hands all over a beautiful woman.

Well, he was still scared out of his mind, but at least it was worth it.


Things shifted into routine. Misato would come home, bathe, and Shinji would have dinner ready as she was toweling off, and digestion would be aided by an after-dinner back rub. Though these sometimes devolved into tickle-wars and Misato firing off innuendo in broadside. Shinji often lost these contests, mostly because Misato liked to play dirty.

Massaged, flushed and decidedly relaxed, Misato poured herself into a yukata and lounged for the rest of the evening. Shinji had his eyes glued to a medical text, but they locked onto her cleavage every time she moved. She had the sneaking suspicion though that he was starting to ogle her just as much for her own benefit as his own. It felt really good to be wanted. Even for something so simple. Putting her arms on the table and leaning just so, she grinned, casting a shadow over his book. "Whatcha readin?"

"Ah-uhm... Some uh... Notes on acupuncture, actually."

She glanced over at the rest of the kitchen table, stacked with books, and quite a few note pads filled with notes and those strange characters. She thought she recognized a name on one of them. "Did the Sub-Commander write this one?"

He nodded. "Yeah, He loaned it to me when we talked me about my Exaltation." There were more text, historic Chinese theology, a book of zen koans, all kinds of things. "Quite the little scholar aren't cha, Shin-Chan?" The teenager ducked his head and blushed, but smiled under the praise.

Misato shifted, leaning more on one arm and closer to Shinji, grinning fondly. "So what's all this for? I doubt you study this in high school."

He blushed a bit harder and shook his head. "This is just for me. I... I know things. Like how I knew about your scar. I want to know why I know them... So I have to learn about them first." He shrugs helplessly. "It's like not knowing the word for something, you know what it is, but you can't say it." She nodded, thinking.

She stopped, for a moment, growing contemplative. Standing, she waved the teenager up. "Get up."

She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him over, before taking his chin in one hand and tilting his face to one side. Take off your shirt."

He sputtered, doubly so once she winked. He eventually complied, blushing notably. Thumb on her chin the older woman looked the pilot over, walking all the way around him as he stood with his shirt off.

"You're getting bigger."

He blinked. "Huh?"

She gave him a decisive nod. "Yep, bigger. Your eyes were in line with nipples when we first met." He sputtered at that, but she blew past his indignation. She tapped his chin, he'd definitely gained about three inches in almost five months. "You're wider too, broader shoulders." She licked her lips and grinned. "It works for you, I have to say, Shinji-kun." His skin turned molten, but smiled regardless.

Misato thought back. "You're also eating a lot. I mean, teenagers, it's what they do, but seriously."

He gave a sheepish bow, hunching his shoulders and smiling apologetically. "Sorry..."

She tapped his cheek with one loose fist, following it up with a winsome grin. "None of that,"

He nodded again, smiling and rubbing the back of his head. "I've been kinda sore lately, more than normal."

Misato winced. "Growing pains? I can imagine." She wrapped him up in one silk-sleeved arm. "If you're sore I can always give you a back rub~." Before he could answer, she took on a contemplative look. "Y'know, if you keep growing like this we might need to get you a bigger bed... Or I suppose you could just move into my room, my futon's got plenty of extra space..."

A few weeks ago, Shinji would've probably been utterly incapable of responding to that, or if he had, it would've been very awkward or lacking in guile or wit. When it came to Misato however, the mantra was Adapt or Die. Shinji put on his best knowing smirk and threw one arm around Misato's middle, still a bit stiff, a bit awkward.

Smiling, he gave her a look sidelong. "I'd like that. But you'd have to clean your room. And I've seen how you sleep. I'd never know where I'd end up!"

The look on Misato's face was worth the flirting, innuendo and thinly-veiled sexual references he endured for the next two days.