The sound of the phone ringing thrust Misato out from the gentle, loving arms of sleep into the damp splotch of drool on her pillow and the harsh morning light streaming in from the window. She wiped her face off, turned over on her other side, and closed her eyes again. Shinji would probably answer, right? She was usually up by now anyway. When was "now," anyway? she wondered. She craned her neck to check the clock. Six thirty-something. The last digit was blocked by an empty instant noodle cup that probably had more culture in it than France by now.
The ringing continued. "Shinji?" She called out. "Can you get that?"
Who the fuck calls at six in the morning anyway? Bunch of savages in this town, honestly. Just as she was starting to drift back to sleep, it hit her: there was a fuckin sync test today. Shit shit shit! She threw off the cover of her futon and rose to her feet quick enough to get a head rush and darted over to the phone.
She tried to compose herself momentarily. "Hello? This is Katsuragi."
"Hey, it's Ibuki," Maya answered, "Is everything okay? It's uh, Dr. Akagi is getting pretty antsy."
"Uh, yeah, we're juuust about to head out the door," Misato lied, "Probably be there in, uh," she tried to guess an ETA that hit the sweet spot between 'hopeful' and 'realistic,' "half an hour?"
"Okay cool, just like, checking to make sure you didn't like, get in an accident or leave the stove on all night or something."
"Tell her to hurry the fuck up!" Ritsuko demanded, barely audible over the phone.
"Uh, Dr. Akagi says to hurry," Ibuki relayed, "I'll uh, I'll see you guys in a bit. Tell the kids I said hi!"
"Yeah, yeah. See ya later." Misato hung up the phone. She turned towards the hallway. "Hey! We're super fuckin late, let's go!" she commanded. No response. She knocked on Asuka's door. "Hey. Are you up?" Nothing. Annoyed, she slid open the door. Asuka lay on her bed, twisted into a cocoon of blankets and hair, her face towards the wall. Misato approached the tangled mess and reached out to try and get her attention. Asuka grunted disapprovingly. "Hey. What's going on? We need to go."
"I don't want to," She grumbled. Her voice was muffled by the sheets.
"It doesn't matter if you want to," Misato lectured, "You're gonna be there if someone -probably me- has to drag you there kicking and screaming." she ran a hand through her hair. "Look, it's your first sync test in a while, don't you wanna show everyone who's boss?"
"Don't patronize me."
"Fine," Misato folded her arms. "We're leaving in ten whether you're dressed or not." she left and closed the door behind her. Was that too harsh? ...Probably. The sound of Asuka screaming into a pillow reinforced her conclusion. Fuuuuucking hell.
She rapped on Shinji's door next. "Hey. You're up, right?" Nothing. "I'm coming in, okay?" she entered her room, and heard a rustling of sheets as Shinji turned towards the wall and pretended to be asleep, though she still clutched her cassette player in her hand. "We need to get going," Misato urged. "Look, I don't know what happened yesterday or whatever, we can talk about it later probably, but right now I need you to get dressed, and we need to get out the door."
"You'll really force us if we don't?" Shinji mumbled into the wall.
Misato hesitated. "Yeah. Just let's go."
The locker room past the decontamination zone was large and empty, about as sterile aesthetically as it was microbiologically. The harsh fluorescent lights washed over the white tile walls and floor, and lockers quietly corroded into a dignified patchwork of rust and brushed steel. Cold, dry air circulated through the chamber, a constant incentive to stay in the showers just a little longer. The room was large enough to accommodate maybe half a dozen occupants without crowding them into awkwardness, though Shinji had never seen another soul use it. Everyone else went to the girls' changing room, and she was stuck here.
She opened her locker and began to carefully remove her paper jumpsuit. Normally, she was grateful for the privacy of having a changing room to herself, but this morning, the feeling of being left out only tightened the pit in her stomach left from the previous day's events. Nobody actually thought she was a girl. They'd say it, but like, here she was, relegated to the men's locker room. She dropped the jumpsuit into the incinerator and a lashing tongue of flame sputtered up out of the device to lick its lips. What was even the point? If being a girl meant getting stared at and being assaulted on the way to the toilet, was it actually any better than going through the motions of being a boy? At least then she was mostly safe. She threw open the door to her locker in an attempt to seek some catharsis, but all she received was a loud clanging that echoed through the room.
"Oh my, what heinous crime did that nefarious metal beast commit?" Nagisa stood towards the entrance, her face a collection of sensory organs and muscle positions that might represent bemusement. She made a series of movements with her limbs similar to walking and opened a locker a few over from Shinji's own.
"Shit!" Shinji yelped and jumped behind the locker door. "What are you doing here?"
"I believe I mentioned in our last encounter that I was a pilot as well?" Nagisa unfastened her jumpsuit, "and that I was an odd sort like yourself, in terms of disdain for that whole sordid affair of being expected to be a boy."
"Uh, yeah, I suppose," Shinji muttered, sheepish. Her eyes darted away from the changing figure before her. "I guess I would've expected you to be in, y'know, the other locker room."
"As did I, but the infallible Doctor Akagi the Younger deigned otherwise," Nagisa's disarming cheery demeanor became momentarily tinged with a spot of contempt. "Though I suppose given the contents of this chamber at present, it is also a women's locker room." One eye disappeared behind its lid in a wink.
Shinji smiled, despite herself.
"You needn't avert your eyes, by the bye," Nagisa mentioned, "I assure you, you won't turn to salt or anything of that nature."
"Oh. Uh, I'm just, super uncomfortable in these kinds of situations." Shinji stammered.
"Would it help if I turned away?" Nagisa suggested.
"Yeah. I think so."
"Very well." Nagisa pivoted in place with a flourish. "Sometimes it slips my mind that most people haven't spent a sizable portion of their lives being examined in the nude." there was a fwoosh as her paper clothing went up in smoke. "I suppose I should be envious that you have a little shame remaining inside you."
Somehow Nagisa's carrying on the conversation didn't make Shinji feel any less self-conscious. She tried to push past it and pulled the limp plugsuit in her locker off its hanger and undid the zipper in back. Her burning curiosity got the better of her and she snuck a peek at the naked girl before her. Something about the resolute plateau of Nagisa's shoulders and the meandering river beds left by the muscles in her back stirred something inside her, and also... "You've got, uh, boobs?"
"It appears that way," Nagisa replied. "They started coming in a few months ago. Rather exciting, I'll admit." a beat. "You know, I hardly think it's fair for you to request I not look at you while you're changing if you're just going to do it yourself like that." her voice jingled playfully.
"Er, sorry-" Shinji apologized, "I just- sorry!" she took a deep breath to collect herself. "Wait, so did you go through the whole clinic thing?"
"No, I've never dealt with that particular ordeal. My experience has been rather forcefully curated by some very austere people."
Shinji sat down on the bench and pulled the plugsuit over a leg. "The triangle-and-eyes dudes?"
Nagisa pivoted her head up and down in a quick nod. "Best be quiet about that," she warned in a hushed tone, "someone's always listening in this infernal place."
Shinji nodded in agreement. "So like, how did you... Uh, y'know,"
"My body works quite differently from most people's. Due to reasons best left unspecified, there is a lot of functionality directly dependent on my own self-image."
"Oh. Huh." Shinji mumbled. She stood and pulled the suit up to her waist. The plasticky material made a noise reminiscent of gelatin being sucked through a tube as it moved and rubbed against itself.
"You'll figure something out, I'm sure," Nagisa retrieved her own plugsuit and began to pour her body into it. She looked over in Shinji's direction briefly. "Oh dear," she chimed, "it seems you've turned to stone after all."
Shinji became acutely aware of her groin. Her face grew flushed. "Fuck. Shit. Uh, sorry."
Nagisa giggled. "No, no, I was being far too forward. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
Shinji hastily finished pulling the plugsuit over her arms and tried the zipper in the back. It caught in the same place it always did. Carefully, she jiggled it in place to try to get it loose.
"Do you require assistance?" Nagisa suggested.
"Uh," Shinji tried it again. Fuck. "Er, yeah, actually."
A blanket of warmth gripped Shinji's shoulder and she felt the cool metal zipper come free and slide up her spine to the nape of her neck. She inhaled sharply and pressed the button on her wrist to seal the suit and compress her junk into nothing before it got any ideas.
Ritsuko leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. The MAGI terminal before her displayed the sensor readouts from the sync test on the aesthetically pleasing labVIEW interface she'd designed while an endless blur of status messages scrolled past on the console, too quick to catch with the naked eye. The test plugs housing the four pilots were visible through the window of her observation deck, half submerged in liquefied bakelite. With Ibuki and Misato off on their breaks, Ritsuko had the place to herself. Just her, the computers, and the pilots.
The revelation that Nagisa was actually another weird pervert like Shinji this whole time had given her a lot to think about. While he was obviously beyond promising from a purely numerical standpoint, the last thing she needed was for Nagisa to get his little eldritch tendrils into him, or honestly Rei either, for that matter. Keeping them as separated as possible was probably for the best. But then, her only alternative was trying to exhume Asuka back into relevance. And Asuka was, to put it bluntly, a childish fucking moron and a drama queen, not to mention all her other emotional issues. She scrunched up her face. Even given all that, it was probably the preferable option.
She wheeled her chair over to the comm interface and opened communication with Asuka's plug. The camera feed jittered into view on the monitor above. Asuka's hair was drifting around in the LCL, forming a dark stormcloud over her head.
"Hey," Ritsuko tried to get her attention. Silence. "You're uh, you're up a couple points over last time." She wasn't. She might as well just be comatose in there for all the syncing she was doing.
"...Really?" She opened her eyes and looked up excitedly at the intercom window.
"Yeah." Ritsuko tried to think of a way to connect with an obnoxious, angsty fourteen year old. She mulled over the handful of stock usenet diatribes in her head and selected one she felt might resonate. "How's, uh, stuff at home going? Did that conflict ever get resolved?"
"No," Asuka spat, "Of course not. Shinji's still being a fucking weirdo and Misato keeps enabling him. Fuckin- like, everyone always takes his side, it's so goddamn stupid."
"I know. Everyone in this place is so 'open-minded' their brains fell out," Ritsuko took a sip of coffee.
"God, finally someone says it. Can't anyone just grow a spine and tell him to be fuckin normal already?"
Ritsuko nodded. "There's a lot of people who would like to say something, I think, but we're all being held hostage by a handful of crackheads," she wove, "Like if someone says something out of line, they just get dogpiled or shunned for it. It's like walking on eggshells."
"Fucking figures," Asuka folded her arms, "This is just like when that Ainu kid was still at school, and everybody was like, oh, we gotta be super nice to him even though he's kinda creepy and smelled cuz otherwise the teacher's gonna send us to the principal's office for being racist." she paused. "I'm glad fuckin' someone else is seeing all this shit, I was starting to think I was living in clown world."
"Yeah, it definitely feels that way sometimes," Ritsuko looked back over at her terminal. Asuka's sync rate had risen to five percent. God, if I can get her working again just by validating her stupid tantrums that would make everything so much simpler.
What was "Rei Ayanami?" A name? An occupation? A person? In reality, none of those were really correct. Like so many things in the world, it was a control system, where Rei the individual was the plant, and "Rei Ayanami" was the ideal operating condition she was being coerced into compliance with. But what if the coercion was no longer enough to overpower the disturbances coming from outside? It seemed like the influences of Nagisa and Ikari might do just that.
Rei pondered this as she journeyed down through the Nerv labyrinth to the Artificial Evolution Lab for another checkup with that wretched old hag. What would a Rei that had an existence outside of that system behave like? For starters, a freer Rei probably wouldn't be called "Rei" at all. What could she be called instead? Something related to the moon might be nice. Its contemplative pale glow and the cool night air always felt more welcoming than the harsh light and heat of the day. Come to think of it, was Ikari planning on changing her name? Perhaps this was a discussion they could have sometime.
Tangentially from the topic of Ikari, was the freer Rei a girl, or something else? It seemed like so many of the roles and specifications that constituted that ideal operating point were inextricable from her gender, especially in the context of dealings with the Commander. While she wasn't sure of anything she'd rather be, that association wasn't something easily shaken. If she could express femininity in a noncommittal way to an extent she was comfortable, that might be ideal. Though, with all that said, trying to be precise in her analysis seemed like it could easily start to feel prescriptive, and then she'd be back where she started. In any case, if she was able to borrow Ikari's old uniform, mixing it into her routine now and then could be a step in the right direction.
She slid her keycard through the lock and entered Dr. Akagi's lab. A rush of air blew past her as the door opened, and the familiar stink of tobacco smoke and harsh cleaning chemicals washed over her. Inside, the old hag herself perched atop one of the folding chairs, peering intently into the monitor of the Magi terminal in front of her. To the side, a lipstick-stained cigarette lay smoldering in an ashtray placed atop an oscilloscope. She didn't seem to notice Rei come in.
Rei walked over to the other rolling chair and set her bag down. "I'm here."
"Fuck!" Dr. Akagi jumped in her seat, her lab coat suddenly ruffled. "God, stop sneaking up on people like that. It's weird."
"I wasn't doing anything." Rei replied. She took a seat on the chair.
"Whatever," Dr. Akagi scowled. "Let's get this over with." She preened her coat back into alignment and rolled over to Rei with a clipboard and the blood pressure monitor in hand. She secured the cuff around Rei's bony arm and began to pump it full of air. "I hear you've been getting pretty friendly with Ikari."
"I suppose," Rei ventured, cautious.
"Don't." Akagi commanded, glowering up at Rei. "It's disgusting just thinking about it."
"I don't understand."
"You would if you had any idea what you were," Dr. Akagi muttered.
"A clone?" The cuff began to constrict Rei's arm.
"That's certainly part of it." Akagi released the pressure from the monitor and scribbled something down on her clipboard. "Eugh. I don't wanna talk about this. Just step on the scale."
Rei obliged, massaging her arm where the cuff was attached. Didn't the Commander make a similar comment about Ikari? This was starting to look like one of those threads that was better not to pull.
Dr. Akagi fiddled with the weights, frowned, and recorded a value. "You're gaining weight. Keep an eye on that." she returned the equipment to her disheveled magpie hoard of a workspace and retrieved a sealed vial from the minifridge in the corner, along with a syringe. "A new flu shot came in, by the way. This'll just take a second." She filled the needle with the fluid from the vial. "Our sensors picked up a spike in the AT field at the school yesterday," she mentioned nonchalantly, "We almost thought it was an angel."
"I see," Rei mumbled. Her gaze dashed to the floor and she subconsciously began fidgeting with the edge of her skirt.
Akagi sat down heavily in her chair and the added momentum carried it forward a bit. "Yeah. you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" she rolled over to Rei. "Your arm?"
Rei hesitated. "I wouldn't." she extended her arm again.
"What a mystery then, huh?" Dr. Akagi surveyed her arm for a vein like a hawk searching a field for mice. Satisfied, she swabbed down the location with alcohol and inserted the needle.
Rei winced and averted her eyes. If that old hag knew what had happened, what was going to happen to her? Her heart pounded out of her chest.
Dr. Akagi plucked the emptied needle out of her arm and wrapped a bandage around the puncture. "You know what? I think you're a fucking liar, Rei." a nightmarish grin parted her face, crimson lips bordering tobacco-stained teeth. "Don't you ever think you can pull one over on me, Rei. You can't hide anything from me."
Rei remained silent. She focused on the needle in Akagi's hand. Maybe... maybe if she could grab it, she could stab that old hag and make a run for it. Although if she did, she wasn't going to be long for this world either. She quickly did the mental calculations on whether being without her medicine was worse than whatever hell that horrible woman had in store for her.
She lunged forward and snatched the needle out of Dr. Akagi's hand and plunged it into her outer thigh through her slacks. Akagi cursed and squawked as Rei grabbed her bag and ran for the door. She pounded on the console to open it and dashed out into the hallway and back towards the cargo elevator.
As she ran, she began to feel exhausted. Not like she usually did if Miss Kurosawa made her run a lap during gym, but a profound, all-permeating fatigue that drained every muscle and tendon in her body. Her extremities began to feel heavy and her vision blurred. Had she been tranquilized? Whatever the case, the surface wasn't going to be an option. She looked around for an abandoned lab or crevice she could duck into to hide. She slid behind a decaying HVAC box and collapsed.
Shinji tried the door at Dr. Akagi's office. Locked. She pulled her SDAT player out of her backpack and began untangling the headphone cable. Maybe Ritsuko was still down below running stuff through the computer still or off somewhere with Rei doing... whatever it was she did to her. Just thinking about it sent a chill down her spine. She wished she had the courage to barge in and demand answers, but frankly the idea terrified her. Beyond even her own ambient anxiety, the fear of being tossed in the brig again if she went too far was a strong deterrent, and of course the doctor was probably the only path she'd ever have towards getting hormone treatment. She stuck her headphones in and started the player.
Really though, didn't she owe it to Rei to stick her neck out for her by now? Between saving her life all those months ago during the sniper mission thing to the innumerable hours spent in training and combat together, to her bailing Shinji out just yesterday, it was probably about time Shinji was the one to lay herself on the line. But like, not right this second. She should probably at least like, come up with a plan first.
God, just thinking about yesterday was enough to send the adrenaline rushing back in. She wasn't sure how she was gonna go back to school on Monday, like, what if it happened again? Those older guys were probably pissed, right? She looked down at her boys uniform and sighed. Even the idea of wearing girl clothes to Nerv was suddenly paralyzing, though honestly that would've been daunting even at the best of times.
She ran her hand through her hair. Come to think of it, it was actually starting to get a little long. Although, it seemed to be growing distinctly out rather than like, down, or some other useful direction. It was just like, puffy. She sighed. Probably just another thing she'd have to ask Misato about.
Ritsuko appeared around the corner and looked startled for a moment. She said something, but it was inaudible over the music playing in Shinji's ears. She pulled the cable out and stuffed the device back into her bag. "Uh, sorry," Shinji apologized. "What were you saying?"
"Nothing really," Ritsuko dug around in her lab coat for her keycard. "Uh, just that you kids have a way of spooking people."
"Oh. I was just uh, just standing here." Shinji clarified.
Dr. Akagi shot her a derisive glance, but quickly erected her facade once more. "Sorry for making you wait, stuff with Ayanami took a little longer than I thought." she swiped the card through the reader and opened the door.
"How uh, how's she doing?" Shinji pressed.
"She's a little sick, unfortunately." Ritsuko heaved a stack of paperwork off the chair in front of her desk and dropped it atop another pile in the corner. "I'm having her stay under observation for a bit to see where stuff goes. She's uh, a pretty fragile person. As I'm sure you've gathered." She took a seat in front of her terminal and set about clacking away on the keyboard.
"Uh. Sure." Shinji's heart sank. That sounded super suspicious, honestly. But like, she did go unconscious during the fight, right? Maybe it was related to that? She tried not to show her concern too openly.
Ritsuko finished with the computer. "I actually have to make this pretty quick, I have some other, uh, stuff to deal with right after." she adjusted her glasses, and a brief flash of reflected light glanced off them as she looked Shinji up and down. "Uh, so how's stuff going so far? You got the girls' uniform, right?"
"Yeah, it's just uh," Shinji's eyes wandered over to one of the decrepit cat statuettes on the desk before her, "I wasn't feeling it today, I guess?"
Ritsuko peered down at her over her glasses. "Did uh, something happen?"
"Uh, well," Shinji could feel a lump form in her throat and her voice began to waver. "Yesterday, some uh, some upperclassmen were gonna, uh, they were gonna..." she trailed off.
"Hmm, that's unfortunate to hear," Ritsuko offered, her tone icy. Her fingers set to work on the keyboard again. "I know it's hard, but it's important to keep up your 'real life experience' trial run as often as possible so you get, y'know, the full experience of what being a girl is like."
Shinji's gaze wandered between the various decrepit cat statuettes haphazardly scattered across Ritsuko's desk. "Uh, I mean, I don't think girls get called 'faggot' very often."
"Women get called names all the time, Ikari," Ritsuko dismissed, "I mean, listen to how people talk about like, Ibuki or Misato when they aren't around. Even to their faces sometimes. It's just like, dyke this, slut that, y'know," she took a sip of coffee. "And I know people call me a bitch constantly too. It's just something you have to suck up and get used to."
"I guess," Shinji acquiesced.
"Anyway." Dr. Akagi rubbed the lipstick smudge on her mug with her thumb. "Uh, so there's one big thing I forgot to bring ask about last time that I want to cover. And uh, some of this next part might get a little embarrassing, so I'm gonna say up front that I'm not going to judge you for how you answer, okay?"
"Sssureee?" Shinji was immediately set on edge.
"Great. So, let's see," Ritsuko massaged her temples. "When you, uh, you know, jerk off, do you often imagine yourself as a girl?"
"I- what?" Shinji felt flushed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Ritsuko shrugged. "Believe me, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," she held up her hands. "I'm serious though, I'm not going to judge you or anything if you do."
Shinji hesitated, suspicious. The truth was yeah, she did that a lot, especially since she started taking all this more seriously. And of course there was the handful of times she'd jerked it wearing her new girls' clothes. But like, what was Ritsuko getting at? Was she gonna like, accuse her of not really having gender identity disorder or whatever if she told her the truth? Or maybe not having those kinds of fantasies would disqualify her... after weighing her options, she decided to just tell the truth. "Uh, I mean, sometimes?"
"Hmm," Ritsuko recorded more notes in her computer. "I'm starting to think you might have autogynephilia," she commented.
"Uhh, what's that?" Shinji's heart sank as she began to worry she'd answered wrong.
"It's a disorder of sexual development," Ritsuko explained, "Basically sometimes a boy will start to view themselves as the target of sexual attraction instead of like, other people, and then they'll try to become more feminine so they're more attractive to themselves. But they're not actually like, girls at all. It's just a sexual thing. It has a lot of symptoms in common with GID though, so it's an important thing to screen for. Otherwise uh, I could end up doing a lot of damage by handing this the wrong way." She looked Shinji over. "It's still too early to say one way or the other. But like, not being very into real life experience and also having those kinds of sexual fantasies kinda reads that way."
"Oh." Shinji's gaze wandered downwards, to her hands idly fidgeting in her lap. She flexed her grip a few times.
"Don't worry kiddo," Ritsuko adjusted her glasses. "Everything's gonna work out just fine." Shinji couldn't help but sense a sort of malice seeping from her smile.
The first thing Rei experienced as she came to was an overpowering stink of mildew and disinfectant. She forced open her groggy eyes, and a bright fluorescent light from above stung her retinas. Squinting to ease the glare, she tried to take stock of her surroundings. Twisting her neck was difficult, however. She reached up with her hands and felt a metal collar fit snugly around her neck. Rei searched the object for a latch, but the object appeared to be smooth metal except for a barely-perceptible seam. She gave the collar a tug, but it remained in place.
She sat up to get a better look at things. It began to dawn on her that this was her old chamber within the Artificial Evolution Lab. The walls and floor were bare concrete, save for scribbles of the six flavors of quark scattered across the surfaces in chalk. She even recognized a few stains that remained from when she was last here long ago.
An intercom speaker crackled to life. "You're up. Cool." the voice was garbled and interrupted by pops and static, but it was unmistakably Dr. Akagi's. "That thing on your neck is a bomb. If you fucking try anything like that stunt earlier ever again, you're fucked, understand? And if you do anything weird like manifest a fucking AT field, you're also fucked. It's on a dead man's switch, so if anything happens to me, boom. Fucked. I'm not fucking around, Rei. You're lucky the Commander has his perverse little fixation on you, otherwise you'd be just another rotting carcass down there with the prototypes.
"If I die, I will be replaced."
"Fuck you."