Shinji had been looking for Asuka for the past hour when he found her in Misato's office. It seemed it was always the last place one looked that should have been the first.
At first he thought the dark office was empty, before he saw the faint glow of the monitor. Crossing the space from the door to the table, he saw Asuka slumped in front of the screen, hidden from the entryway, staring intently into the light.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he muttered.
"Found me," she said. She clicked the mouse. "Not like it's hard." She plucked at her collar with a free hand.
"Misato wouldn't let me use that. She said it would be a violation of trust."
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha," Asuka said, rocking her head side to side at each precise, mirthless syllable. Shinji smirked.
"What are you doing, anyway? Homework?"
"I'm looking at security monitors," Asuka mumbled.
"Geh…what!?" Shinji circled the desk. Asuka was clicking through different camera feeds, watching the goings-on at the GeoFront. "This…how did you access
"I used a password," Asuka mumbled. "Misato shouldn't leave stuff lying around in the apartment."
"You can't go through her stuff!"
"Then she shouldn't leave it where I can go through it." Asuka narrowed her eyes. "They're coming today."
"Huh? Oh, the…."
"Yes."
"You don't like that?"
"…no. Why, do you?"
"I don't know." Shinji rubbed his hands together, and sat on the desk. "I try not to expect too much of things. I don't like being disappointed. But…well, that means I don't really dread things either."
"That's not true, you're practically afraid of your own shadow."
"…really?" His tone was dry as kindling.
"All right, that's…mean. I wouldn't say you don't dread things, though."
"…Well, maybe I'm so used to dreading things, I don't realize it?" He scratched his head. "I don't remember…really feeling that way in a while. Kind of do, now, but…not really dread I guess. More confusion."
"That's one way to react, I guess."
"I mean, have you talked to Hikari?"
Asuka looked up, blinking. "Hikari? Why would I talk to her about this?"
"Well…it…." Shinji leaned back. "You didn't hear?"
"Hear what? What are you talking about? The new Pilots?"
"No, they've decided to…pull us out of school. All three of us." He twirled his finger in a small circle, an encompassing gesture. "They want us to focus on training full time. With the thing that happened in China and…." He shrugged. "Well…I've been trying to figure out what to say to Toji and Kensuke."
Asuka's mouth had dropped open, and she looked down at her lap. She had not heard that…indeed, now that she did, she was feeling far more distressed than she thought she would. Her only real friend at the high school was Hikari, and following That Day, she had been less attached to the goings-on in school. Still, to be pulled out….
It distressed her. It made her uneasy. "Did they say anything about sync scores?"
"No," he said. She swallowed, and studied the monitors. "Is that why you're unhappy?"
"What do you have to worry about? Your scores are fine." There was a forced cheeriness to the words, but it only made them sound bitter.
"So are yours. You're still syncing."
"Don't patronize me," she muttered, clicking through the camera feeds again.
"You know that I'm not," Shinji said, sounding hurt. Asuka's eyes flicked to his face, and back to the monitor. She paused.
"Huh," she mumbled. "There's really two of him." Shinji squinted in confusion, and leaned back over the monitor. On screen, he could see the back of Misato's head,
Maj. Ennis, a couple of soldiers he didn't know….
And a girl.
…was it a girl?
"Who is that?" Shinji asked. The high-resolution camera began to zoom in on the girl's face, calculating and feeding new pixels to create a projected image of the subject without sacrificing resolution.
"The new American Pilot. Samson's replacement. Or backup. Or…I don't know."
Asuka squinted at the face. "I don't like her."
"Why not? You haven't even met her."
"Look at her," Asuka said. Shinji did, and tried to place exactly what about the girl rubbed Asuka the wrong way. Everybody seemed to get on her bad-side one way or the other, but something about this girl seemed to elicit a stronger reaction from the red-head. So Shinji looked. He saw a girl, with long hair that was neat and well-groomed, tucked away in a ponytail. Sharp eyes that glittered, strong features that were kind of pretty but…strong? Pressing? He couldn't decide. There was…he recalled his first reaction. To wonder if he was even looking at a girl at all.
She wasn't exactly androgynous. There was something…off…about her. He remembered his first meeting with Samson, and wondered if there was something like that to this girl. He couldn't decide through just a video feed, but he began to think Asuka might have a point.
"I don't know what I see," he conceded, "but I think there's something strange about her."
"That's what I'm talking about," Asuka sighed. "I mean, look at her face: it's all perfectly symmetrical."
"…okay, so?"
"What do you mean 'so?'"
"Everybody's faces are symmetrical."
"Shinji, don't be an idiot," she grumped. "I mean perfectly symmetrical. No one is perfect. There might be a deviation in the height of one ear to another, or one eye might be a different shape. Or a nose might twist one way. But she's flawless. Both sides are exactly even."
"That's a big assumption to make just looking at a monitor."
"I can already tell. I can tell because Samson is like that." She glared at the monitor. "Too…perfect. It's not right. It…it isn't right." She shuddered, and clicked the feed off. She wiped her hands, as though trying to wash them.
Shinji watched the motion, feeling bad for Asuka. Feeling that sense of guilt he felt whenever he spoke to her about Samson, or spent time with him as opposed to her.
Impulsively, he reached over and set his hand gently on both of hers. They were cool, and soft. She made a soft noise in the back of her throat, staring at the hand as though it was an intruder. For a moment, Shinji felt worse, as if he had done the wrong thing.
"Sorry," he said, pulling his hand back. "I don't know why I—"
"It's okay," Asuka said hastily, following the hand and grabbing it with both of her own. "It's fine. It…just surprised me. That's all."
"Oh," Shinji murmured, feeling suddenly nervous as her fingers curled through his. The nervousness gave way to slight dismay as the grip became…somewhat more firm.
"Asuka, you're crushing my hand," he said quietly.
"Sorry," she muttered, letting go. "I'm…you know." She coughed.
"Yeah, I think I do." Shinji smiled, studying his palm. "Geeze, you left fingerprints!"
"Oh, please," she grumped. "Don't be a baby."
"I'm not! Look, I can make out your fingerprints right here!"
"That's most likely a skin disease. Like monkey pox or something."
"That's…that's not even a thing. That's a thing you are making up."
"It is not," she said coolly, and then gave him a sideways glance. A slow grin followed. He smiled back, and glanced down at his hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Asuka raised her hands over her head in a grand pantomime of stretching.
"So!" she said, "Where's Wondergirl at?"
"Probably at the American hangar," he said. "Grendel was coming out of quarantine today. She seemed fixated on that." He furrowed his brow. "I feel like she's not doing so well."
"That's weird…she seemed fine after…our talk."
"No, you seemed fine. She seemed…well…you know, Rei."
"…I tried to get her to tell me about the Lance." Shinji closed his eyes, remember the day that Grendel fell with clarity.
"Did she tell you?"
"No. Do you have any clue what it is?"
"I don't," he said. "And…yeah, that bothers me. I kind of put it out of my head, because it's just one more thing my father failed to tell me. But…when I think about it…." He swept his arms around the room. "He didn't tell me about the Evangelion. What does that mean the Lance is?"
"Something important?" Asuka asked, "An ultimate weapon?"
"…Something dangerous?"
"…Maybe," Asuka mumbled, picking at the tracking collar. She felt the room go sour, and reached out to pull at Shinji's collar, snapping the elastic against his skin.
"Hey!"
"Your reflexes have gone to hell," she said. "Not training with the Hurensohn has made you flabby. Flabby, flabby." She poked at his arms, and his stomach. "Pudge from fudge."
"At least I exercise," he countered, squirming under her prodding but not withdrawing. "Not sit around watching TV all day!"
"Roly-poly!"
"Not."
"Big blueberry!"
"I'm not. Not."
"You are…rotund." She phrased the last word with extreme precision and a little bit of pride at choosing it.
"…Spar with me, then." He raised his eyebrow, daring her. The twisting finger paused, and Shinji felt his heart jump into his throat. He had spoken without thinking…but it felt right to say that. He gave Asuka a sly, sidelong glance. Her face was blank, but her eyes wide. Surprised. Something about the expression seemed encouraging.
"…I'll hurt you."
"Nope."
"Break you like a twig." Asuka no longer twisted the finger, but began extending her arm, slowly tipping Shinji over.
"I thought I was flabby," he protested, bending under the finger, but not falling.
"A very fat twig."
"You don't have muscles," he dared. "You lost them watching TV. As soft…as pudding." The finger was joined by its fellows, and they scampered up his head like a spider to grab his hair. Slowly, but not roughly, Asuka began jogging Shinji's head back and forth, in an almost bored expression of aggression. "Tapioca pudding. The blandest of all puddings."
"It's on," she declared, releasing his hair and giving him a solid shove. He fell to the side, landing with a huff. "Name the time and the place. I'll be there. I'll fold you like a chair."
"Tapioca," he declared, standing up and brushing carpet lint from his pants. He snuffled, and turned to Asuka. "I'm going to go check on Rei…want to come?"
"…Nah. No, I'm…I'm gonna hang out here a bit." She smiled, and hunkered down behind the desk, like a turtle pulling into its shell. "See you later?"
"Sure. I'll make dinner tonight…maybe you should think about calling Hikari?"
"And you should call the boys."
"You're right." He retreated to the hallway, and realized he felt good. He felt giddy. He felt…very much like he should feel. Nervous, but a good nervous. Scared, but a happy scared. He felt very good. He marched down the hallway in the direction of the American section, feeling like the floor was three inches below him.
He was about to cross into the first of the American corridors when he heard a musical voice call, "You are Shinji Ikari." He turned in surprise, and beheld the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.
Shinji's mouth was dry, and he tried to swallow. The boy not ten feet away was slender, feline, and assured. His hair was…silver. Maybe more grey, but it seemed…silver. His eyes were that same ruby-red that Rei had. His skin was the same porcelain color, but where Rei seemed fragile, he seemed…ethereal. He had a light grin on his fine features, and warmth seemed to bubble behind his eyes.
"…I'm sorry?" Shinji murmured, blinking.
"I said, 'You are Shinji Ikari,'" the boy said.
"Uh…yes, I am."
"I know," the other boy snickered. Or did he giggle? "That is what I said."
"Ah…yeah." He rubbed his neck. "Uh…who are you?"
"The same. As you."
"The…same?"
"We are the same." Shinji's hands rose defensively at that. The phrase sounded too much like something else he had heard once. Something that made him feel queasy. The other boy detected his unease, and smiled sadly. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I meant to say that we are both Pilots."
"Pilots?…Oh, you're the…you're the other kid. The other NERV Pilot." Shinji smiled awkwardly. "I didn't know you came in today."
"I did," the boy said. "I am Kaworu. Kaworu Nagisa."
"Nice…nice to meet you, Nagisa."
"Call me Kaworu."
"…Okay."
The strange boy smiled, and turned. "It's good to meet you, Shinji," he said.
"And you…Kaworu." And with that, the boy was gone, as though the corridor had been empty the entire time. Shinji released a long-building shiver, and headed back into the American sector.
"Weird," he mumbled.
Shinji found Rei in the observation deck in Grendel's bay. She pressed her forehead against the glass wall, and leaned heavily against it. At first, Shinji wanted to leave, getting the definite sense that she wanted to be alone. Squirming, he fought that urge, and stepped into the room.
"I'm guessing you've heard?" he asked. The blue head rolled gently to the right, but not all the way; it was her only acknowledgment of his arrival. "Is that…a yes?"
"I was making progress," the girl mumbled.
"What?"
"…nothing."
"…oh." Shinji swallowed, and joined Rei at the window. Her hands hung limp at her sides.
"You know," he said, "this is probably the first time I've seen you in something other than a Plug Suit or our uniforms." It wasn't, of course: he had seen her wearing her new outfit at the mall. Here, however, in the GeoFront, it was a whole different story. It was quite odd to see Rei dressed so casually.
"It is irrelevant," she mumbled.
"…Rei, are you okay?"
"I move forward, and then backwards, and then sideways, downways, and middleways. I am progressing in a direction, but is it the correct one or simply the one I choose? And does that make it correct? And so what does it mean when they won't let me choose?"
Shinji leaned against the glass, turning fully towards Rei. "That means you're not okay, right?"
"I don't know what that means," Rei conceded.
"Do you feel good?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"…I was beginning to like school." Rei pressed her palms against the glass and slowly pushed away. "I was beginning to…understand it."
"…I'm sorry," Shinji said, not entirely comprehending what Rei was feeling. He did recognize, however, that she was low. Very low.
"Why are you apologizing? It wasn't your decision."
"Because I…feel bad, I guess? I don't know what else to say."
"Then you shouldn't say anything, until you know what it is that you want to say." It was the same old mechanical Rei, but there was a note of bitterness beneath the words that could be tasted.
"I guess you're right," Shinji conceded. He glanced down at Grendel. "Looks like the American Eva is out."
"No, it's not," Rei sighed.
"What? I thought they cleared it?"
"It's out of quarantine. That is a fact," Rei mumbled. "Grendel is not…there. It doesn't talk to me anymore."
"…Talk…to you?"
"Yes." Rei pointed lazily to a wall terminal. Shinji walked over to it, studying the monitor. He knew nothing about computer programming, and the words were in English, so it took a moment for his brain to recognize what looked like a chat sequence. He furrowed his brow…then his eyes widened…and a whole rush of insight slammed into him like a wave.
"You've been…you've been…you've been…." He tried to form the words, to spit it out: that Rei had been talking to an Evangelion. She turned and gave him a strange look. He swallowed. "You've…been…talking…to Grendel?"
"Yes. It was lonely."
"That…that…that's…I don't…well…uh…." He glanced back and forth between the monitor and Rei. "That's interesting."
"It's irrelevant, because Grendel won't talk anymore," Rei said. "It has been destroyed by the Angel. Or it is hiding. Or it is gone. Whatever the reason, I cannot speak to it, and it cannot speak to me."
"…So, what does an Evangelion like to talk about?" Shinji asked.
"Nothing." Rei turned towards him. "It just wants to know that someone is listening."
He studied her, the shock of the revelation seeping away.
"Rei, we're listening when you need us," he said.
"I am not an Evangelion," she mumbled, turning to leave.
"You're a friend," Shinji insisted, but she was already through the door as he said the words. He grimaced, and turned back to the monitor. The green letters winked at him cryptically. The silly urge to type something just to see what would happen came over him. For a moment, he figured it was all a joke: that Rei had pulled up the chat sequence as part of an elaborate prank.
Because Rei was so well known for her pranks.
…Shinji needed to talk to Asuka. He hadn't even asked Rei about the Lance, but he figured that this would more than make up for it. As he hurried out of the room, the monitor continued to wink alone in the emptiness. The only movement that remained was the solitary flicker of the flashing cursor.
