"Are you the Commander?"

The question was so surreal, she found it necessary to repeat it. Shinji tried, desperately, reconcile the pretty-girl voice and being in any way associated with his father. Something screwed up in his chest alongside the fluster.

"N-No!"

The red and black machine cocked one hip out to the side, arms braced akimbo. The simple human gesture again made the air whip at the clothes and hair of everyone underfoot. Somehow, she made the Evangelion sneer, despite lacking a face. "Then who the hell are you?"

There were too many answers to that question, and most of them unbelievable, or dangerous. The last time anyone stood above him so much had been when he first arrived in Tokyo-3, and that first Angel attack. He shook off the memory and stared right back at the Evangelion's face. "I-I'm the Third Child!"

"You? You're the Third? Impossible! Maybe you ate the other pilots, I'd believe that!" She didn't give him a chance to make a comeback. "What are they feeding you, Rambo movies?"

She kept going on in that vein for some time, utterly fixated on tearing a strip out of him. If not his build, then his demeanor, how he carried himself. Then the lack of pomp and circumstance regarding her arrival. If he wasn't the Commander, why wasn't the Commander present? A new lead pilot and Evangelion was being transferred to his command, after all. That Misato was present made no impact, having defined Operations Director as a nothing task. Asuka never seemed to pause for breath, starting in now on how he dressed.

"-And how can you wear such a boring outfit! If you're a pilot you should dress the par-"

The two adults decided to remind everyone present that they still existed. Misato practically doubled over, clasping both hands around her mouth. Kaji on the otherhand laughed openly, waving.

"No one else can make a multi-billion dollar war machine act so ladylike, Sorhyu-san."

"Kaji!"

The second he spoke , Asuka became an entirely different person. Her demeanor shifted so fast, it was almost like a physical thing. To the point that Shinji felt it in his neck and back. The Evangelion responded as well, shifting almost dantily, hands clasped in front of it. Everything from then on seemed to be honeyed, sweet and girlish. He turned and glanced at Kaji. For a moment Shinji wondered if the scruffiness was worth being able to make a girl hang on his every word. Especially if the girl in question was as pretty as she sounded.

That thought kicked off another, and it almost made him miss an important fact. She was getting out of her Evangelion. The war machine knelt, and with each shifting panel, Shinji heard violins. It was achingly familiar, two notes followed by tense pause. It repeated twice more before building into a full orchestra. He hadn't even seen her yet, and he was hearing Allegro con fuoco.

Kensuke was right; Tokyo- 3 was a statistical oddity. A disproportionately large number of women worked or would soon work at NERV. The new pilot somehow looked amazing, despite having just pulled herself out of a plug full of LCL. Red hair, blue eyes and long, long legs. Watching her practically skip down the shoulder and arm of her machine, something else occured to him. He never gave the particular detail any thought, mostly due to understandably limited exposure.

Bright, beaming and impossible to ignore, Asuka Langley Sorhyu approached. She hopped off the Evangelion's splayed index finger, landing with barely a sound. She tossed her head, tossed her hair. Despite it being wet, despite it being LCL, she did it.

Misato groused behind him, not unkindly. "Right, now she's just showing off."

Kaji kept his voice low and didn't miss a beat. "When isn't she?"

Shinji's eyes tracked her first, then his head, neck and shoulders followed right along. He couldn't not stare, not then. That insistent, increasingly relevant and appealing detail burned itself into his brain. Shinij's mental orchestra built up, quickly and inexorably towards a full, resounding crescendo, matching up in time with the word to go with that very important thought.

Plugsuits.

Misato had been snickering, trying to hide it for several minutes now. Shinji was dimly aware of Asuka preening, practically throwing herself at the older man. The young girl's eyes cut back and up, catching Shinji dead to rights. He realized right then that he'd been staring, hard. Misato laughed even harder, Red surged up his neck and cheeks, he barely had a chance to squirm.

"Pervert!"

Shinji really didn't want to block, but months of training didn't give him much choice. Asuka lashed out with an open-handed slap, right in line with his cheek. The apology stuck in his throat, not sure who to answer first; Asuka for the offense, or Ayumi for his lapse. He licked his lips and tried again, trying to ignore the ugly, sick feeling in his stoma-

"How long have you been practicing?"

"Huh?" The question knocked his train of thought clean off course, and his face went slack. Kaji and Misato were thrown as well, staring openly at the rapid shift. Asuka went from righteous indignation to a borderline interrogation, in the space of a single sentence. It was a poignant reminder of how mercurial she could be. Misato got over the shock the fastest, surging in with a tight smile.

Misato kept her voice light and airy, realizing she had to defuse the situation rapidly, as in right the goddamn now. She slid in between them, pressing a hand to their shoulders. "Easy now! This isn't the time or place. He didn't mean to, Asuka." She figured playing to the girl's ego wouldn't hurt, pointing out she did look great. Asuka didn't even seen to notice her speaking.

"Unarmed combat, Martial arts." Asuka kept her eyes locked on Shinji's, not once wavering. She repeated her question, wiggling her raised arm, now almost draped across his own wrist.

Shinji blinked once, then twice, and got his brain into gear on the third. For a moment, the tension and guilt drained out. Questions were simple, he could answer questions. "...Oh! Uh... About a year? Ten, fourteen months?"

The look on her face was positively evil. Not a grin or smile of any kind, and it wasn't a sneer. Instead Asuka stared him down with a sort of snobbish intent. she hadn't once taken her eyes off his, not since Shinji blocked her first attack. Somehow Asuka pushed past Misato, hooking her foot around the back of his ankles. She shoved him, high up on the chest and hard. He had no response; all his training, experience and talent fled for that moment. He fell, hitting the pavement hard enough to bruise, and too shocked to do anything else but stare, numb.

"So then, Third Child." She made a point to plant her foot between his legs, dangerously close to his hips. The thin rubber sole sounded much heavier than it should have, right then. "It seems you need to keep practicing."

The lieutenant kept an eye on her two passengers by way of rear-view mirror. The drive back from the dry docks was... Tense, to say the least. Misato was sure, if Asuka had room in the back of car, she would have sat with one leg crossed over the other. She knew the girl well enough to say she was the picture of arrogance, even though Asuka was going for nonchalant. The yellow sundress didn't hurt, Misato had to admit.

Thin, snaking highways cut through the hills of Hakone, and the sun sank into the western horizon. The pilots and officer were heading straight for the Geofront, under orders for 'expedited debriefing' with the Commander of NERV. Asuka, for her part, treated the whole affair as her own imperial motorcade. In some ways, Misato was glad she hadn't changed much. In others... Well, at least one person in that car believed the world revolved around Asuka Langley Sorhyu.

The Second Child flipped through her 'Welcome to NERV' book, barely skimming the pages. It was the same introduction Shinji had to the organization, and Tokyo-3. She tossed the booklet away, not even caring to finish it. She folder her arms over her chest and pointedly ignored Misato's claims of there being important information there. Frost seemed to build up on her side of the car.

Misato wanted to bring up Asuka's new living arrangements, but the teenager wasn't having any of it. She completely shut Misato down once it became apparent she'd be living anywhere near Shinji. Asuka had already made herself very clear on how she felt about him. Misato just sighed and waited for the redhead to calm down, they were still a ways away from the Geofront.

Glancing to the right, Misato checked on her other charge. Shinji was being his normal unobtrusive self, despite filling more than twice the total area than his fellow pilot. He was more focused on looking straight ahead, past the front seat and out the window. As far as Misato could tell, he'd already gotten over the worst parts of Asuka's first impression. Not that it was surprising, Shinji had a lot more important things weighing on his mind. Pilot relationship dynamics and an aggressive, excessively forward personality just didn't faze him.

"I categorically refuse to sleep anywhere near this hyper-masculine meathead jock." Asuka recrossed her arms for emphasis, punctuating it with a derisive, lady-like snort. Misato would've bet good money the girl practiced that in front of a mirror at least once.

"Asuka."

Before Misato could begin to clarify, Shinji twisted in his seat and shot back, stating that he was most definitely not a meathead, or a jock. Asuka wasn't having any of it, and started in on the boy in earnest, laying out at length all his apparent flaws. Meanwhile, Misato watched the escalating byplay, mouthing hyper-masculine to herself, and contemplating all the interesting things it implied with regard to her pilots.

"Is still cannot believe he is a pilot," Asuka picked up steam. "Maybe he is fourteen, but only if you fed him four dozen eggs a day. I mean, how can he even fit?"

Red crawled up his neck and cheeks. Only Shinji could be embarrassed about being big and tall. Even so, he managed to fire back with a line of his own. "It's... not so bad after the first couple times."

Meanwhile, Misato had to bite her lip just to keep from cracking up. The car wobbled slightly, but nobody noticed, and Misato corrected with barely any thought. The banter continued for a while longer, and they just kept giving her so much wonderful material. All good things had to come to an end, however.

"Asuka." Misato started tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. The Geofront wasn't far off, and it was time to put her foot down.

Neither pilot seemed to notice, wrapped up in their tiff. At least Shinji was in a better position to fight back. He managed to catch Asuka up with a good retort for every three or four of hers. The car tilted over the last rise before angling down into an entrance ramp, curving around and into the Geofront.

The car picked up speed and shot down the access tunnel. Misato loved the Geofront road network. Lots of long straightaways with almost no turns, and when it did, the road banked nicely. She always enjoyed opportunities to ignore the speed limit. Shinji wisely decided keep his mouth shut, and to squeeze himself against the opposite door.

The redhead continued to seethe and rant at the window, barely acknowledging the shift in air pressure or acceleration. "This just is a bad plan! Utterly psychotic!"

The transfer station for the tram line was just ahead, and had plenty of open parking lot. Misato took a moment to tighten her gloves, grinning. Perfect. "Asuka."

No response. That was fine with Misato. She slammed on the breaks and sent the dark blue Renault into a textbook perfect donut-spin. The car drifted, spiraling along through the cavernous garage and past massive support pillars. Each one was the size of a small building. Twisting in her seat, Misato locked her eyes on Asuka's, and most definitely not watching where she was going.

A feathery tap on the brakes brought them close enough to a pillar, they could all hear the air rush around it and the car. "Asuka!"

Wide-eyed and thoroughly cowed, the younger girl shrank back in her seat, color drained out of her. Her hair bounced and waved as the car slid across the pavement. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the car came to a halt, ending in a perfect parallel park.

Asuka's voice was tiny. "...what?"

Misato didn't even blink. She just kept staring, putting on a sickly, saccharine sweet smile. "If you let me finish... You'll be living in my apartment complex. I have a second unit leased out to you and paid for by NERV. You'll be our neighbor. I'll give yobu a copy of the key to our apartment, and I'll have a copy for yours. Section-2 will remain on station on the other floors as a rapid response, assuming anyone attacks. You heard about the attack on the school, right?"

Asuka nodded. "That's why I was sent here, security envelope."

Snapping back to her happier, care-free face, Misato gave Asuka quick, warm smile. "Right, do you understand now?"

She may have, but the girl's pride demanded a quick recovery, and an answer. Misato didn't expect anything less. Asuka huffed. "He'd better not sneak into my apartment-"

"Sweetie, you tried to deck him ten seconds after meeting him." Misato grinned a bit wider. " Safe to say he's not dumping his girlfriend for you."

Misato twisted in her seat to look at Shinji, but only stopped and stared. He had pressed himself almost completely up against the side window, and nearly white as a sheet. The door swung open and the boy fell out and onto the pavement, landing in a heap.

"I think I'm going to throw up."

Above all else, Asuka was freezing. Gooseflesh, shivering, stamping her feet and stiff-everywhere cold. It was like NERV had no idea how to heat its own facilities. Part of her rational mind acknowledged the difficulty inherent in heating the underground infrastructure, but the rest of her just fumed. She was cold, dammit! The Geofront had three fusion reactors beneath headquarters. She knew for a fact they wasted power just sitting there, during peacetime operations. It was probably even worse with the budget cutbacks.

Asuka didn't know however, that much of that power was being directed into the city above, and Japan at large, easing the burden on the national power grid. That and several other small, easily given concessions helped maintain the support from both the JSSDF and civilian government.

She'd been trusted to find her way to the Commander's office on her own, which suited her just fine. She didn't need a guide, and she could find a map easily enough. Locating one office in an underground research facility was well within her capabilities. Misato and Ikari were heading back to the apartment, supposedly finalizing some arrangements or other. Asuka wasn't one to care about that, as long as they were doing their job of preparing for her.

Looking around, all the corridors seemed to blend into one another. More and more she was reminded that the base was designed to baffle intruders, not facilitate work. Of course the architects went about it all wrong. The design was infantile, really, compared to the fortress of old Europe, and the more modern bunkers of the past half century. She huffed and stopped at an intersection. Even if she did get lost, it was probably a blessing in disguise; she had to keep moving, or she'd fall dead of hypothermia before sunset.

Fortunately for her, she arrived at her destination if not early, than at least on time. She knew she was in the rooftop dome layer of the NERV complex, but there were no windows. Just a tiny, nondescript reception area and an equally tiny, mousy clerk manning a desk. He waved her in without a word. A featureless door slid open, soundlessly, disappearing into the wall.

Dark. That was the first thing that came to mind. The door behind her whispered shut, and for a moment, Asuka was blind. Her eyes adjusted slowly. The ceiling above started to glow faintly, etched in long intricate lines and text. She recognized the Sephirothic System, though why anyone chose it as decoration was beyond her.

Then the floor disappeared.

Glittering water and green trees and grass spread out below her feet, more than a mile down. Heights had never bothered her before, and they wouldn't start now. She forced her fists to unclench, and let out the breath she had been holding. It was a simple tactic, spook the newcomer into revealing their base reaction, find out how far they can be pushed. Knowing that didn't prevent a full on adrenaline surge.

Now though, she could see. Windows to one side, looking out on the Geofront dome, and the transparent floor, crisscrossed with thin lines and inset diamonds. The floor was polished, reflective at that. And she was still wearing her sundress. Anyone with half a brain could get a free show, just by looking down. Asuka refused to let anything show on her face, other than smug confidence.

Ahead of her, finally visible, was a man seated behind a desk. His hands were laced together and elbows down on the table. Past the fingers, rough mop of hair and orange glasses, she got the unmistakable impression of beard.

Asuka crossed her arms over her chest and threw one hip out to the side, tapping her foot. Inwardly, she cursed herself for staying where she was. There was a cold air vent right above her. "Are you the Commander?"

He didn't move at all. "Yes."

Judging by the stacks and stacks of boxes, Misato was fairly certain Asuka was still a spoiled brat. The Second Child seemed to have more possessions than Misato and Shinji combined. Misato didn't let it get to her, though. Kaji was more than enough training on how to deal with the compulsively immature. She kept her smile sunny and warm, handing the newly copied key to the Second Child. The dark-haired woman swept her arm out at the new apartment, a mirror image to the floor plan of her own.

Shaking her head, she pointed to the door on the right and gave Asuka a quick nod. "Well, this is our place," then waved left. "Yours is right next door and pretty much the same size."

Now the smile dropped, taking on on a slight edge. She leaned forward just a little, staring right into Asuka's eyes. "I expect you to keep your apartment clean and in good condition, considering I effectively own this building now."

The younger girl nodded, only slightly subdued. "Alright Misato-san."

Misato blinked once, then slapped her forehead. "Ugh, I'm a moron. You'll need help moving your stuff in, won't you?"

She glanced at the piles of boxes lining the hallway. Asuka scowled, folding her arms over her chest in a huff. "The Great Asuka Langley Sohyru doesn't need help with anything so simple!"

"Aw c'mon. Don't be a bitch." Misato snorted, throwing an arm around Asuka's shoulders. Turning, she shouted at her apartment. "Hey! Shinji-kun!"

Both women felt more than heard a resounding, ominous thump. Fortunately no sounds of splintering wood or destruction followed. Moments later the Third Child tumbled out of Misato's apartment. Unfortunately for him, his tumble sent him barreling past the two women and sprawling to on his back right next to them. He looked up at Misato and Asuka. "Y-Yes?"

Then Asuka moved, and Shinji realized he could see everything from where he lay.

"I miss my wife."

Whatever thought Fuyutsuki held in his head right then died, quickly and quietly. He was left with a nonplussed sense of... Something. He couldn't quite place it, other than the great feeling of unexpected.

The old man just blinked, once, still staring."...Beg pardon?"

Gendo leaned back in his chair and stretched, before twisting his neck one way, then the other. Fuyutsuki just stared. The other man was content to let the lull stretch on, punctuated by the pop and crackle of stretching ligaments.

The sound was enough to snap Fuyutsuki out of it. He let the shock fall away, while dropping back into his own memories. His favorite student was many, many things, submissive wasn't one of them. A smile worked its way onto his face, and though he faced Ikari, Fuyutsuki grinned at the past. "I highly doubt Yui would have ever given you a back rub."

The younger man's reply was quick and effortless. If Gendo ever begrudged Fuyutsuki for how he felt about Yui, he kept his peace for nearly twenty years. "Of course not, but there are times I wish I had the privilege of being shot down."

For a brief moment, the pair stopped being student and teacher, or Commanders. Instead they were just peers, men. Fuyutuski's nose scrunched up, grunting. "Not much comfort on long nights."

It was a long night, at that. NERV spent more time in meetings, spinning its wheels, the longer it went without an Angel attack. Most people considered the tedium a blessing, but if left to linger, morale would start to drop.

"None at all." Gendo broke into his musing. He twisted in his chair, drawing forth another series of crackles. "Have we received another memo from the UN? Do they need their hand held?"

This time Fuyutsuki twisted, searching his desk for any such message and finding none. "No, actually. They've almost completed the transfer."

"Impressive." It was, somewhat. The UN had suffered for a long time, and had been considered impotent, ineffectual. It had been a paper tiger, in a very real sense. That changed during the post-impact era, and the conflicts that built up around the world. With Crisis came Chaos, and the cure for chaos was order. Central authority, though often demonized, was a very real necessity in the realities of the post-impact world. Thus, from this necessity, the paper tiger had grown some claws.

Fuyutsuki handed the folder over, smirking. "This isn't like you, Ikari. Snark, at a time like this?"

Most people would have sounded petulant. Gendo's tone spoke only of irrefutable fact. "We all have our fits of pique, Fuyutuski."

Nodding, the old man started to hunt for more files. "True enough. What is our status?"

Gendo waved one arm, calling forth a dense tangle of holographic displays. Fuyutsuki looked up at the light filling the filled the office alongside a map of the world. Markers dropped into place over dozens of countries, denoting 'Angel' sightings and strange phenomena. Every habitable continent had at least one recorded event. Protests built up almost overnight, like mushrooms. Demonstrations gave way to riots. The world did not so much burn, as smoulder.

Tokyo-3 was a dictatorship, with Gendo's personality firmly imprinted upon Ikari, Fuyutsuki, and both doctors Akagi left their mark as well. Their influence went deep, rooted in the procedural core of NERV. Katsuragi, in keeping with her nature, was the defacto face of the fortress city, both literally and metaphorically. More people knew of her, knew her, as the Tactical Operations Director and military leader of NERV. Slowly, but surely, Misato etched her signature style into the city. Her focused genius was evident in nearly every armory building and reconfigurable structure.

Taken all together, Tokyo-3 and Japan by extension, was only dimly aware of the unrest plaguing the rest of the world. Suddenly the alien invasion stopped being 'Over There'. Suddenly, the new, awful reality was in the backyards of regular citizens, unprepared and unwilling to give up their idyllic lives. Gendo, for all his misanthropy, felt little for or against the people of the world. It wasn't his way to begrudge them happiness, but his goals could not be compromised.

Without the unifying factor of an outside, opposing force, the human race was headed for another world war. SEELE was exceptionally skilled at controlling wars. A conflict on that scale, with the levers already in place meant a great many things. Even more vital resources could be drained from NERV's purpose. The Committee had its share of backup plans. Gendo and Fuyutsuki would not have been surprised, if SEELE ever deployed a means to postpone the Angel invasions. They might have already done so.

Ikari Yui was the genius of GEHRIN, but others followed, and NERV did not have a monopoly on brilliance.

"So far SEELE has been miserly with their Mass Production Evangelions." Gendo observed, lifting his fingers and curling them in. The displays responded, twisting apart into an ordered list of dates, times and locations. "One incident at a time."

"So the world assumes it's one Angel." Fuyutsuki snorted. Sometimes the simplest tricks were the best. SEELE and Gendo were both masters of human interaction, though Ikari gained his via hard experience. His misanthropy gave him a unique, detached perspective, one that had frustrated Fuyutsuki time and again.

The reply was brief. "Likely, yes."

"Akagi has a theory, and something of a plan." It took Fuyutsuki a few moments to find the right folder. Akagi tended to append last-minute thoughts in the form of post-it notes, a quirk she inherited from her mother. The thin sheaf of papers was dripping with annotations. "Most of the interception system is using the old pattern sensors, the UN took control before the upgrades went out."

"Such a shame that those improvements were lost in the shuffle." No one ever said Gendo lacked timing, comedic or otherwise.

Fuyutsuki felt his lips quirk up before continuing. "Quite. Regardless, as long as the events stay outside our detection envelope," the old man waved to the map of Japan. "We can't analyze new AT field signatures."

And without that analysis, they had nothing to present to the UN. And, more importantly, no means to defang SEELE in the current round of the game. Akagi unfortunately did not know the committee as well as either commander. If they had done something to upset the expected timeline even more, there was very little NERV could do about it.

"What of our budget concerns?"

This time Gendo laced his fingers together, though without a desk to lay his elbows on, he didn't hold the position for long. "The interal restructuring is proceeding as expected. NERV should enjoy a universal increase in salary, if all things go to plan."

"That would do wonders for morale," the old man paused. "We're using the third option, I believe, with Shinji in place of Rei?"

"The Third is a much more dramatic demonstration. If we want to enter the corporate world, we must make a big splash." Fuyutsuki's expression soured, more at what Gendo didn't say.

He let it pass, knowing it wasn't the time for that old argument. Utilizing Shinji was a risk, and both men knew it. At the same time, there were ways to mitigate the dangers. SEELE was also a concern, though a less personal one. No one doubted the Committee had viable sources. If not now, then after the Dawkins protocol dropped. Neither pilot was an ideal choice for the plan, but they had to work with what they were given. NERV couldn't afford to ignore Shinji's value outside of his ability to pilot Unit 01. However, Fuyutsuki knew the other man well enough to say that Gendo simply didn't really believe in the Exaltation. He agreed with observable fact, of course, but deemed it a distraction. The boy rapidly shed the various behavioral controls his father spent years cultivating, and while not healthy, Shinji was no longer the perfect tool, in Gendo's mind.

The discussion meandered then, to topics closer to home. Rei had been experiencing incredible increases in synchronization, though her body-chemistry reports were at times unsettling. The Second Child was settling in as best as could be expected, though there were rumors that the pilots had stepped off on the wrong foot. Still, Ritsuko was almost gleeful. Sorhyu was a prodigy, and had done a great deal to advance the study of the AT field.

An errant snip of memory came back to Fuyutsuki, right then. "That reminds me, Ikari." He turned to Gendo, honestly curious. "What of the AT field data you offered the terrorists?"

The other man didn't turn, instead answering into the holographic cloud. In his office, doing what he did best, there was no need to look or act smug. "It should be filtering through the back channel information networks as we speak."

Most people would've asked something then, wondering how Gendo could have anticipated the terrorist's own backup plans and procedures. Fuyutsuki knew the younger man too well, seeing no reason to ask when he already knew the answer.

"I miss free time."

Kensuke sank into the nearest lawn chair, groaning faintly. The rooftop labs were becoming more and more lived in with each passing day. Awnings, more storage sheds, and enough chairs for everyone. Only a handful of people lived in the complex, though, and most of them were Section Two. Misato had been working with NERV to open the place up to more tenants, but hadn't had much luck.

The basketball dropped onto the rim and bounced off, very nearly going over the parapet and down fifteen stories. Toji froze in the middle of his botched lay-up, arms still raised. He stared at his friend. "...What?"

The sandy-haired boy reached into the minifridge for a bottle of water and drained it in one go. "I'm exhausted. I thought you had to have sex first, before anything like dehydration set in."

Toji just kept on staring. "...Kensuke, what?" It took him a few more seconds to gather the rest of his wits. Details began to click into place. "...Why the hell are you in a bathrobe?"

It was very much indeed a bathrobe. Fortunately it was painfully generic, instead of... Unique. Toji wasn't sure if he could've handled his best frield showing up in somethng like cushy velvet, or silk. Kensuke blinked twice before glancing down. "Huh? Oh, Shinji lent it to me."

The entire situation was going an incredible number of terrilbe places. Places Toji had no want or desire to even consider, let alone visit. Still staring, Toji tried to speak. To do anything that would get his brain back in gear. The basketball rolled into his foot. He failed, but Kensuke took it as a sign to explain anyway. Some part of the athlete feared the answer, as if it would make the whole thing even worse.

Fortunately, it didn't get worse. Kensuke tended to speak differently when it came to science. "Something exploded in the lab. Got everywhere, clothes are in the wash."

Toji just shook his head, trying very hard to get his concious mind as far away from thinking as possible. It also ate up a lot of the time Kensuke spent not explaining. Eventually, the other boy did start to make sense.

"Dates, Toji. I have dates. Multiple." He pulled out a pocket calendar, nearly blacked out with appointments. With equiliberium restored, Toji found the surge of jealousy easy to squash. It was hard to envy Kensuke of all things, even if he had... Nine dates under his belt, and at least twelve more to look forward to.

Regardless, he just snorted. His friends could be thick as bricks. "Groceries. Kensuke. Groceries. Bag 'em up."

Kensuke didn't miss a beat, calling out to the class representative. Toji paled and started to shiver, whirling around with apologies spilling out. When he finally unscrewed his eyelids, he realized there was no Hikari present; they were on the roof of Misato's apartment, and as far as he knew, Hikari had never been invited up there. Toji very nearly decked his best friend for that, but only nearly. It only took Kensuke less than a minute to get his breathing back to normal.

Deja ambled on by then, only giving Kensuke's outfit a glance before shrugging, and going back to her rounds. The two boys waved, barely noticing her. When she stepped out of sight behind the shed complex, they shivered.

Kensuke couldn't help but follow the agent, watching her go. The fight or flight response and uniform suit did little to stop his hormones. "Girls are ten times more confusing than I thought."

Girls in general, as far as Kensuke learned, were far less mysterious and eldritch than he thought. Oh, their ways were still curious, and he found their guile and subtlety aggravating, but at the same time, he started to understand why, if not what they meant. Toji at one point asked if he really had done it or not, with any of the girls. Kensuke couldn't say if any of his dates even wanted to. Two had ended in kisses, simple ones at that, but he couldn't understand the signals the girls were sending him.

Now they were back on track. Toji scooped up the ball and started to spin it in his palm. He wasn't quite good enough to balance it on his finger yet. His face twisted up, scowling mightly. "I just gotta deal with one girl, and she's nearly bipolar." Between laughs, Kensuke asked if she really was. The jock was in the best position to confirm it. "Nah, she just comes off like that."

Both boys realized then, that their chances of a normal high school career and equally normal relationships were already long gone. Kensuke had in the past two weeks gained more practical experience than Shinji had in six months, setting aside physical things. Toji on the other hand was already married, he just didn't know it. Or, better to say, he knew it, and it terrified him.

Maturity, responsibility, honor and more. The idea of commitment. Be it to a person or ideal, was a new and scary thing. Kensuke understood duty better than most people his age, due to his familiarity with the military and civil services, but it was still a shallow understanding. Toji took Hikari for granted, and knew it, deep down. Even if on the surface, he spent more time and energy aggravating her, flirting with a dozen girls all stary-eyed with hero worship.

They fell silent then, almost somber. They both knew that they were very close to a point of no return, a step into a larger world, and a much scarier one. They'd already made other, equally terrifying steps, confronting their mortality, and their own will to live, fight and die. They were thinking like warriors, leaders. Adults.

Toji looked up at his friend. "You still looking forward to having sex?"

Again, Kensuke didn't miss a beat. "Every damn day."

One didn't reach adulthood instantly, after all.

Hours passed, crawling into the afternoon on that lazy Saturday. No gunfights, Angel attacks or wierd Exalted hijinks, just two guys talking about the most important thing in the world: Girls. Their lives were truly charmed, it seemed. Misato-san, Akagi-Sensei, and Deja, for all the shivers she induced. Rei was an exotic beauty, though they had to admit, she dropped off the radar until she started perking up, coming into her own.

Their discussion meandered to that of their class, and how great it was to live in such a healthy city, with such beautiful scenery. They stretched the metaphor as far as they could, and burst out laughing, thick as thieves.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Kensuke rubbed the bridge of his nose, grinning. "We're getting a new transfer student this week."

"Really? Seems like everybody not tied to NERV has already picked up and left." Toji performed another perfect layup, utterly certain his form was correct. He didn't even bother to look. All he needed to hear was the satisfying swish of the net.

"Yeah, but get this. Normally I'd crack into my dad's files, but fate saved me the trouble." The look on Kensuke's face promised something, a glorious truth or revalation. He always had a good grasp of dramatic timing. "I saw moving vans outside Shinji's apartment complex, the other day. Nobody but Misato, Shinji and Rei live there."

The evidence was clear, and the conclusion was fairly self-evident. "So what, we're getting some new blood?" The taller boy scowled again. "Wait, did you stake out Ikari's apartment?"

Kensuke snorted. "Of course not, I work in his lab almost every day after school. Anyway, It's a girl."

Ah, that made more sense. Toji immediately perked up. "A girl, you say? Tell me more."

"I haven't seen her up close, or met her." Kensuke warned. He started ticking points off on his fingers. "Long, long legs."

"Yeah?" Toji sat down on the parapet, leaning forward and eager.

"Red hair, fiery red, almost like a hot rod."

"Yeah!?"

"Blue eyes, a real classical beauty." He plowed ahead, sparing Toji further embarassment. "Tall, beautiful, curvy. Not Misato, but..." The geek raised his hands and drew an hourglass shape in the air.

Toji let out a long, low whistle. "How is she," He hefted the air in front of him. Kensuke's smile was all the answer he needed.

There were no dolls. No toys or cute, stuffed animals. A half dozen boxes or more were pulled open, spilling out onto the floor and the bits of furniture dotting the apartment. Misato said Ikari made everything by hand, but it was probably favoritism talking.

Asuka laid down in the center of her living room. still in her sundress. The blinds were open, allowing a wide rectangle of moonlight to fall over her body. It somehow seemed colder, sitting in the light. She could hear laughter through the closed door, but nothing distinct. Laughing at her probably. She let her head fall to one side. A chair stood next to her. It did look hand-crafted, she had to admit. But there was no way the Third made it. Maybe he worked on it. Contributed to its construction in some way. Fetched the wood, perhaps.

Tilting her chin up, she let her eyes wander around the ceiling. "I'm alone."

The apartment didn't answer. Being alone wasn't all bad though, Kaji was the man of her dreams, but even the most wonderful gemstone had a flaw. It'd be good for both of them to spend time apart. Absence made the heart grow fonder, after all. Rolling onto her side, she huffed, not willing to get up. The night wore on, and the laughter and liveliness next door faded.

Grumbling, the girl sat up and changed, reaching for a pair of shorts and a T shirt. The water and sewer lines weren't properly hooked up yet; Asuka needed to go next door to take care of matters. Stepping out of her apartment, Asuka shivered. Tropical climate or not, Japan was cold at night. Misato's apartment door was unlocked, and opened without a sound. The entryway floor seemed to swallow up most of her footsteps, leaving only a tiny, rustling scrape from her toes. She all but marched through the ktichen, on her way to the bathroom. She stopped mid-step, spotting the Third sitting in the living room.

The boy had his nose buried in a laptop computer and a pair of earbuds hung down around his head. Asuka blinked twice, before glancing at a clock. Half past midnight, and he was going to school tomorrow as far as she knew.

Bathroom forgotten, she stepped up behind him. "Do you ever sleep?"

He nearly fell out of the couch, almost crushing the laptop along the way. Again Asuka couldn't help but notice how huge he was, somehow looking as ungainly as a teenager while taller and bulkier than most adults.

She repeated the question, looking down at him. "Do you ever sleep?"

He looked suspicious for a few seconds, wondering at the apparently honest curiosity. He smiled then, but sadly, like it hurt. "Not as much as I used to. Not as much as I'd like."

Snorting, Asuka turned on her heel and left, taking care of business before heading back to her apartment. The growl built up low in her throat. Just as she suspected, a ploy for attention. Even that look on his face was calculated for maximum pity, it had to be. However, she couldn't quite help but ask...

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Commander Ikari stared past his interlaced fingers, examining Ryoji Kaji. "This was not part of the agreed plan."

The UN inspector just shook his head, smiling. He seemed completely unconcerned about standing in Gendo's office, one of many, many places in which the Commander could commit murder and never be tried.

Instead Kaji just looked amused, almost playful. "The committee thinks things have changed. They're withholding ADAM for the foreseeable future."

Gendo refused to let any emotion show. "Double Agent."

Kaji grinned even wider. "Technically, Triple Agent."

That cracked Gendo's facade. He blinked, once. Kaji raised one hand and started ticking off fingers. "I work for the United Nations Security Council, The Human Instrumentality Committee, otherwise known as SEELE, and potentially, NERV."

Gendo gave the other man a single, deliberate nod. "Dismissed."

Kaji turned out on one heel and began to whistle. There was a lot to be done, after all. Old College Friends to reunite with, a young woman who was as much sister/daughter/friend to torment and tease... And his insurance policy.

Once Kaji left, the office went dark for a moment. A second later, the lights snapped back on. Fuyutsuki appeared, standing behind Gendo.

"Ikari."

The younger man didn't turn to speak. "Fuyutsuki."

"I am curious." He only waited long enough for Gendo to acknowledge the implied question. "We know that the Dead Sea Scrolls define the current future, but we also know the scrolls change. And so do our memories of the scrolls."

Both men knew that dealing with the scrolls in any capacity had an element of uncertainty. To what degree was the important consideration. Both men were working from the updated sequence of events, Fuyutsuki more than Gendo. The Commander instead only saw the prophecy as a useful guideline, to be discarded when convenient. Gendo's confidence in Yui's plan did help, but as far as Fuyutsuki was concerned, nothing could be taken for granted. He maintained a record of the scrolls as NERV last knew them, even if Gendo didn't care. Third Impact was behind schedule, the Sixth Angel was behind schedule. The Fifth Angel didn't die like it was supposed to.

At the same time, the scrolls were maddeningly imprecise, prone to metaphor and symbolism. Despite that, they were bafflingly easy to translate, as if they were meant to be read by mankind. Sometimes they were accurate down to the date, and other times they only became clear in hindsight. Yui had made the breakthrough that made the project possible, that made everything possible. Gendo was aiming to have lightning strike twice, and Fuyutsuki knew there was a better than even chance of succeeding.

What Yui found, nearly twenty years ago, was that the scrolls predicted, they did not determine. The scrolls were a map, not a guarantee. Sometimes, both men wondered what life would've been like, if Yui hadn't proved Second Impact as optional. The blood of half the world fell on SEELE's hands, but Yui wasn't wholly innocent either. The die had been cast, however, leaving Gendo and Fuyutsuki to follow the course as best they could.

Gendo shifted slightly. "What do your memories say of the Sixth?"

Fuyutsuki thought for a moment. It was hard to forget reading the Dead Sea Scrolls. The old man fought back a growl. The scrolls were proof that aliens existed; there were times he loathed the era he lived in. "Red. Just the one word. Red."

"That is what I remember." Gendo agreed, otherwise not moving. "The original, nineteen eighty-four copy referred to the Father followed by the burning star and great whale."

Fuyutsuki recited the interpretation from memory. "Metaphorically speaking, the remains of ADAM, the arrival of the Second Child and the Sixth Angel, codenamed Gaghiel."

"'Red' could apply to the Second, or Unit 02." Symbolic language was maddeningly imprecise at the best of times. Anything could be made into a symbol, with myriad permutations based any involved languages. The cultural psychology involved often baffled lesser minds.

"I try to avoid assumptions about anything, Fuyutsuki." Gendo pushed out of his chair and started to close his office down for the night. "As far as I am concerned, it is better to be decisive. The journey is irrelevant, as long as we reach the destination."

Fuyutsuki nodded. "So, survive until the conditions are right, and execute."

"Precicely."

Somewhere in Tokyo-3, A suitcase was hidden where no one would ever find it. Inside was the sealed embryo of ADAM, locked in stasis and completely insensate.

One misshaped eye rolled around in solid Bakelite suspension. Its iris contracted.

Shinji very quickly realized that Asuka liked to show off.

On the way to school, her very first day, she greeted people with a pitch-perfected 'Hello', in English, with the barest hint of an accent. Her pronunciation was just one more way for her demonstrate her greatness. The same was true for that morning, very nearly scaring Shinji out of his shirt. Again. Asuka had a very nice voice, but could do things with it that just made his skin crawl.

When he turned, she smiled sweetly, singing out a lilting 'Guten Morgen!"

He winced, echoing her greeting. Out of the corner of his eye, his girlfriend split off from her own friends and headed towards him. The world felt just about ready to collapse, right then. Asuka reached forward and up, flicking his forehead with two fingers. Some part of him actually liked that forwardness, considering he towered over her by more than a foot.

"Why so glum, Third Child? The most beautiful girl in this school, this city is taking time out of her first morning at school to greet you. You should be ecstatic." Whatever else Asuka had been about to say stopped on her lips, not quite dead, but waiting. Ayumi sidled up next to her boyfriend and stood up on her toes, kissing his cheek.

That done, Ayumi turned and stared at the new girl. Asuka was about half a head taller. "Well, hello! I'm Saneda Ayumi, Shinji's girlfriend."

Asuka smiled, but none of it reached her eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Asuka, Sorhyu Asuka Langley."

While not literally so, Shinji very much felt as if he were stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he could sense there was a conversation going on right in front of him, that he just couldn't hear. Asuka broke the stalemate first, fixing him with something like a smirk, and not quite a glare.

She tsked, shaking her head. "Still so sad in the mornings. You have your girlfriend hanging off one arm, and you're still in the presence of the most beautiful, popular girl in school!" She flipped her school bag over one shoulder, planting her other hand on her hip. "You should be smiling!"

Shinji stared at her then, for a long, expectant moment. Asuka wasn't entirely wrong about her being popular, and entirely right about her being beautiful. Quite a few students were sneaking looks at her; she turned heads all morning. All the same, he blinked, glancing at Ayumi, who tucked herself under his arm. Then at Toji and Kensuke, who were swamped by groupies, while Hikari interceded as best she could. That strange gir, Rei, was surrounded by her own burgeoning clique of boys and girls. For once, the girl was engaged in conversation, awkwardly at least.

Apparently Asuka had seen the same things Shinji had. She stomped off, not quite angry, but satisfied with something. Ayumi hugged him a little tighter, smiling. "So, she's kind of incredibly cute. What's she like?"

Shinji just shook his head, watching her leave. He shrugged one shoulder. "I have no idea."

"She's a real classical beauty, the Second Child." Ritsuko tapped a key, paging through Asuka's personnel file, complete with front and profile photos. "A face like that can change the world."

Misato sighed airily, stradling a nearby chair. Her friend always picked the best offices to work from, complete with the most comfortable chairs. The bank of windows ahead of the console opened out onto one of the MAGI data storage chambers. She kept her legs tucked up against the seat, spinning lazily. Playful office antics seemed to make the years fall away from her.

She puffed up her cheeks and sputtered before taking on a slow, easy grin. Glancing up at the photos, Misato had to agree. "The next Helen of Troy, alright. She's waiting for a man to go to war for her."

"Unfortunately for her, the man she wants, won't."

"Kaji!"

Ritsuko twisted in her seat, smiling slightly and honestly glad to see him. Misato's mood on the other hand soured visibly. The UN inspector waved and slid into the office, dropping a pair of vending machine drinks on the nearest desk. It was an old trick, an effortless treat encouraged people to reciprocate. They both knew him well enough to see right through it.

Misato wasn't too proud to ignore the snack, snatching it up with a hint of snarl. She hadn't bitten his head off; that was appreciation enough. Ritsuko thanked him, but not without the obligatory dig at his expense. "I'm impressed, Ryoji. You've developed something that resembles standards."

"Katsuragi, Akagi." He slumped into an empty chair. "Of course, our Asuka is just as ready to go to war for her man of choice. I know that all too well."

"Her reputation preceeds her, though she might be in for more than a little culture shock." Ritsuko twisted back in her seat, more than capable of working while holding a conversation. She hadn't yet met Asuka, not face to face, so she only had hearsay to go on. Behind her, Misato was starting to seethe. Kaji must've done something flirtatious, or untoward. Leaning back in her seat, Ritsuko smiled

Just like old times.

Shinji wondered, sometimes, if normalcy was truly relative. His life, the past year, seemed to be one extended study in uphevals, big and small. He came to Tokyo-3, knowing that his father only wanted to use him. At the same time, he couldn't deny the chance, the opportunity to connect. Shinji knew loathing, knew hate, and he knew love. He couldn't help but love his father, at least a little. He came to Tokyo-3 for Gendo, but what he found defied his imagination. People like Misato, who saw past his fear and Exaltation, and later Rei, who in her own strange way became his friend.

Along with all the unbelievable good things in his life, there was terror. The Angels, obviously, and the pain of fighting them, beyond mere physical feedback. Then the global conspiracy, the need to keep secrets. The truth about Second Impact and more. He feared most of all his own desires, having proven once that he was unstable. The fear ate at him almost every day, dragging him down.

Then Asuka entered his life, and what comfortable stability he held on to slipped away. He barely knew the girl, but already she'd stamped her personality into his mind with hot metal letters. Bossy, imperious, genius and beautiful, shrill and sweet by turns, manipulative and mercurial. She did not shake the world, but she sent his immediate life spinning off course, just by being there. He couldn't hate her for being who she was, but at the same time, he wished she would just calm down.

Any further thought on the matter cut itself short, after Shinji almost got run over. He snapped out of his thoughts and twisted left, then right. He wandered into the athletic field during his musings. Off to one side and rapidly pulling away was a gaggle of students stomping along the school track, dressed in heavy pads and thin training jerseys. Shinji blinked, scratching his head.

"Huh. I didn't know we had a football team..."

Her life sucked, right then.

The original teacher had retired, and they were still trying to reshuffle the schedules and keep reign on the students. It had nearly been a month since the attack. Asuka figured that was what they deserved, re-opening so soon. Resuming class when they weren't ready was foolish, and she was being forced to suffer for it.

Horaki, the class representative tried her best, but apparently her own celebrity status made it impossible for anyone to take her seriously, especially without a teacher giving her legitimacy. Without that discipline or the full attention of the class, Asuka's introduction barely made a ripple. While most definitely not the full extent of her charm and grace, she certainly expected more than she got.

Nothing. Aside from the leers of the terminally single, she registered as a blip.

Now, Asuka stewed on her situation while marching through the cafeteria. There had been some sort of hostage situation here, or the gymnasium. She wasn't entirely sure.

It seemed like everything she brought from Germany was useless, fell on deaf ears. No more praise, adulation for her skills. Red hair, blue eyes, the works. She was a classical beauty in numerous countries- including Japan. Asuka wondered then what kind of city Tokyo-3 was, if the people there couldn't recognize something so simple as an A10-2 neural headset.

Asuka was above sighing, it was a sign of weakness. Grabbing her tray, she glanced left and right, looking for an opportunity to make her mark. All the attention she was getting wasn't the kind she wanted, not in the least. Most of it was furtive glances, little boys playing silly games talking about her. That sort of thing was just annoying, and having to eat in house only made her simmer more.

Of course, she let only let the barest hint of irritation show. Asuka liked to think of herself as a fairly talented actress, alongside her numerous other talents. The only sign at that moment was her taking a somewhat savage bite out of a roll of bread. She chewed and stewed, contemplating.

Leaning back out of line, she saw one of the other reasons for her less than stellar day. Ayanami, the favorite.

Even now, a half-dozen students jostled around her, visibly dragging her in and around a conversation. It was fairly clear to Asuka that the blue-haired girl had no idea what she was doing. She barely spoke, and when she did, she sounded like a dictionary. But somehow everyone just ate it all up. Taking another bite, she mulled it over. They weren't hanging around for the conversation, so why then...

A mental image popped into Asuka's mind, complete with a wispy, imaginary sketch of Ayanami. The gangly, off-color caricature flopped around like a marionette for a few moments before snapping back. The whole situation needed to be analysed. No one seemed at all put off by the blue hair or red eyes, which made sense if Ayanami had been a student for several years. Familiarity could get around being able to pass for an albino, she supposed.

The image of Ayanami in Asuka's mind shifted slightly. Asuka prided herself on the ability to acknowledge things objectively. Things like Ayanami being not ugly, but neither was she beautiful, at least by her standards. Sunlight was wasted on her, for example. Light seemed to just scatter through her skin and hair like thin paper. Asuka on the other hand, lit up like a bonfire. Radiant, if she did say so herself.

Still, while not unpretty or overly gorgeous, there had be a reason for the favorite's popularity. The sketchy school uniform cinched up around the image's waist and defied conventional physics to hug curves, both real and imagined. Asuka tried her hardest not to think about how the outfits were simultaneously ugly, unflattering, and ridiculously fetishistic. They probably made her look like a... She didn't even have a word for that.

By that point, the Real Ayanami had found a table, and was practically swamped on all sides by groupies. More boys and girls peeled out of their seats to join the crowd. Asuka had finished the roll and started in on the celery.

So, it wasn't the personality and probably not the clothes. Asuka let the thought roll around in her mind, drawing on her fairly extensive experience and not inconsiderable intellect. Meanwhile, almost in sync with her thoughts, the little sketch of Ayanami followed along, beat for beat. It smiled, capered, flounced, while Asuka's mental camera moved to and fro, framing features as they came to mind.

When the 'camera' stopped, realization began to dawn. She was about to look for confirmation when imaginary Ayanami spoke. "What would you like to drink?"

Asuka looked up from her own chest, blinking rapidly. The lunch lady minding the register asked again. "What would you like to drink?"

To the lunch lady, Asuka said "Whole milk."

To Ayanami, Asuka only had the following thought:

Game On.

Asuka found an empty table and claimed it as sovereign territory. At the other end of the cafeteria, the favorite and her horde seemed to thrum. That suited Asuka just fine, a true challenge then. She sat and ate, glancing from one side to the other. Twisting in her seat, she hiked one leg over the other, confident that no one else there could do the same move justice.

Her table remained stubbornly free of company, and continued to do so well into her meal. The why though eluded her. Looking back, Ayanami seemed to have half the school hanging around her. Asuka stopped, thought for a moment, and then acknowledged the slight hyperbole. Nothing seemed to add up. Asuka was beautiful, exotic, intelligent, and more. The most important thing was that Asuka was new.

And nobody seemed to notice.

The bottle of milk was about two-thirds empty when she saw that no one was coming yet. Escalation was necessary. She eyed the last bit of milk, grinning slightly. Up-ending the bottle, Asuka drained in one move. She made sure to arch her back and put her best of everything forward. She lingered, effectively posed for imaginary cameras. She almost heard a shutter snap.

Again, nothing. Only a few scummy looks. Just like before.

She laced her fingers together, hiding the frown behind her hands. The last idea that came to mind was staging a catwalk show right there in the lunchroom, but her suspended sense of propriety surged back in full force. She wasn't Misato after all.

Not one boy had the guts to approach her. That galled her more than anything else, more than the ogling and badly-disguised lust. None of them had the... Testicular fortitude to handle her, it seemed. Oh, the girls were disgusted though, but they weren't very good at hiding it. Asuka would've welcomed scorn and derision at that point; it would've redeemed the other students in her eyes. They'd have had something resembling backbone. Instead everyone held their tongue, holding to that insufferably polite ideal.

Ayanami got up to leave, taking her entourage with her. Afterwords, the cafeteria was nearly abandoned.

The bell had rung several minutes ago. Asuka sat in her seat, still alone at her table. She had no idea what to do.

NERV-Berlin had called Unit 02 and the various type modules their 'Last Hurrah' before the budget crunch forced them into mothballs. Worldwide, only a handful of facilities were still active. The rest were drawn down to minimum functionality, which for most meant keeping their respective MAGI running. Berlin had been responsible for the development of 'Type' Equipment for Evangelions. China was one of the primarily manufacturing facilities, as well as armor manufacture. Nevada, informally known as the High Energy Research Branch, was eye deep in secrecy. The Antarctic base maintained vigil over the site of Second Impact.

Back in Japan, the scientists and technicians followed their Evangelion, hoping NERV would have that special something they needed, a place to belong. And paying work.

At first there were simple disputes, mismatched procedures and one group adapting to the other. NERV however, had a surprisingly large blue-collar culture. The elite scientists and engineers were important, but the crew and techs were the ones who ran everything. Akagi and Ikari may have been the modern minds behind Project E, but the workers were the blood and bone.

Disputes were short lived, when Unit 02 arrived. This was why they were there, alongside the other Evangelions. The unnatural weapon to fight an unnatural war. The commanders and project leaders never indulged in the morale games, with Lieutenant Katsuragi being the main exception.

. The Ashigarashimo District had been honeycombed with transport railways and truly massive infrastructure networks. Most of it doubled as civilian utilities and the like, but nearly every rail line was served with four pairs of parallel tracks. Every railroad could serve Evangelion deployment under almost any circumstance. After an overnight stay at the Nagano dry docks, the new Evangelion arrived less than four hours later.

Most of the men and women who worked with the Evangelion had gotten used to their various idiosyncrasies. Without a pilot, Unit 00 almost always hunched over slightly, and its arms hung loose and limp. Unit 01 on the other hand looked like a classical oni, thanks to its helmet and proper, toothy face. Most everyone agreed however that Shogoki felt restrained, a bound demon. Unit 02 however, was different.

They couldn't help but think of an old war god. From the side, Unit 02's helmet looked almost like the ones worn by Hoplites. Mostly around the crown of the head and brow. Many of the original German crew had to point out where the real eyes were. The green lenses, while useful sensors, weren't. The red, black and orange was striking, iconic, just like its pilot. She had a good reason to take pride in her Evangelion, as it was the true production model, built and ready for combat.

Asuka herself was different. In Germany and later America, she was something of an industry darling. For nearly a decade, the Second Child was the only person ever to have successfully synchronized with an Evangelion. Beyond that, she built on the theories of Ikari Yui and her mother, pushing NERV's understanding of the AT field higher and farther. Ritsuko still wanted to meet with the girl just for that. The lead engineers from Berlin just bit their cheeks and tried not to laugh.

The Second Child had lived her life in the center of attention. People adored her, treating her better than a mascot but almost never an equal. It was all shallow, reflexive praise. Very few people knew Asuka as anything more than the pilot. Kaji was the husband of her fantasy, but probably the closest thing she ever had to a real father. Misato was the big sister, though that relationship had been soured by distance, age and time. The people along with Asuka... They were hers, but they wree a drop in the bucket compared to Tokyo-3's still massive population.

The lack of pedestrian traffic was frustrating. At that point, Asuka needed every reason she could find to not commit justifiable homicide. The remainder of her school day dragged on and on and on. Nothing broke the monotony, not even a pop quiz. She'd have happily ground away at high school level physics, if it made time move faster.

But nothing saved her from subjective time dilation. Asuka suffered, and began to compile a list of despots she would prefer to stomp flat with her Evangelion. If she had to kill someone, it may as well be someone who deserved it. Her pleasant, bloody fantasies were marred however, by one nagging little detail some half dozen yards behind her.

"Why are you following me!?"

The favorite, Ayanami, stopped mid-step. Almost moving made her look more alive, but she only had the barest hint of an expression. Still a living fetish, still too much like a doll. The girl blinked once. She wanted to say something, Asuka could see that plain as day, even if Ayanami was hard to read. The redhead folded her arms around her chest and started to tap her foot. The girl stopped and started while Asuka waited.

An answer finally came after an aggravatingly long lull. "I live with Lieutenant Katsuragi and Pilot Ikari."

They walked along in silence. Asuka simmered visibly, while Ayanami wisely trailed behind. The Second stomped, boiled and fumed, striding forward with her hands clenched at her sides. She wasn't quite raging, but incredibly close to it. Stalking up the stairs, Asuka made her way over to her apartment. Ayanami stopped one door over. Before Asuka could begin the end of her horrible first day, the favorite spoke up.

"Why are you angry?"

Asuka went incandescent, whirling on the other girl and drawing in a massive breath. Every slight, injustice, awful thing and who knew what else flashed in her mind. Fury built itself up into fiery towers on a foundation of irritation and vitriol. Asuka ran out of words, ran out of ways to describe how angry she was. Instead all she could do was stare at the favorite, stare and huff and puff, ready to wake the whole neighborhood if she had to.

But then, as quick as it came, the rage died. It died in the face of that simple question. All of her intelligence, experience and cunning proved itself useless, leaving her with one inescapable conclusion. At the end of the day, Asuka had no idea why she was angry. Ragged breathing was the only answer Ayanami got that night. The First Child opened the door to her home and was welcomed with loud and happy voices.

Asuka stood alone, outside of her empty apartment.

AN: Whew.