Recently my sister introduced me to her latest earworm ('Canary in the Coalmine' by 'The Crane Wives') and I thought, "I know just the blorbo for this song…" If this were a movie it might do well as a musical interlude in either this chapter or the next. Being an EVA pilot is not that different from being an early-modernity miner, in that you get worked until you break…

Maybe in 100 years they'll make songs about warehouse or meat packing plant workers as edgy metaphors, since some sad constants of human nature may not have changed – when it's been so long that no one remembers what it was like, so it doesn't feel real.


(Resolve)

Twice now had NERV been able to wrest a narrow victory from the overwhelming odds they had been faced with, brought on by providence and fortunate happenstance.

The last time, as I had been told, the Third Child had just barely managed to crack the angel Shamshel's core seconds before his battery would have run out.

With only such a hair's breadth advantage to speak for them, it was almost inevitable that NERV would soon suffer its first defeat.

There was no battle at all – this new angel, Ramiel, had dominated EVA 01 and its pilot right from the moment that they appeared, and brought them right to the brink of destruction.

Any thoughts of victory were abandoned in an instant, whereas all attention turned to just recovering the unit.

The angel effortlessly blasted the emergency shielding out of its way, melting the launchpad to such an extent that the EVA could no longer be pulled back down – Even with her AT-field at its maximum, the angel came within seconds of burning xier way to her core.

The option of simply ejecting the pilot was vetoed by the Commander – without her AT-field, the EVA was sure to be melted into sludge.

In the end, Captain Katsuragi was forced to resort to the emergency salvage of the entire city block, sinking a sizely square of buildings and vehicles below the ground level.

That's when the angel counted xemself victorious, and began xier steady, inexorable drilling through the armored plates in the ground.

That was our situation now – so far as I knew, Captain Katsuragi and the remaining NERV staff were currently engaged in an extensive planning meeting, brainstorming ways that humanity might still wind itself out of its desperate pickle.

I expected that she would come up with a plan and that whichever plan she devised, no matter how foolhardy, would do what was required, all for one simple reason: The promised day was yet to come.

I was not attending the planning meeting, to which I would have had little to add anyways.

I expected that I would be informed of my orders as soon as they were finalized – and then I would carry them out, whatever they would turn out to be.

In the meantime, I had gone elsewhere – I was currently sitting right outside of NERV's emergency treatment facilities.

The Third Child had been clinically dead for about half a minute, heartbeat ceased, breathing interrupted.

They managed to revive him immediately using the plugsuit's inbuilt life support system, swiftly enough that there should have been no time for brain damage to occur, but as of now, he was still in critical condition, left at the mercy of NERV's cutting edge medical technology, some of which was likely lot yet implemented at most of the hospitals around the country.

Any wounded during the widespread destruction of previous battles would have had to survive without it, even the children – yet it was not exactly a lucky privilege that would lead NERV to spare expense with this particular boy.

It was not about him, but about what they were needing him for.

They simply would not allow him to vanish. They revived him only on the off chance that he might be of use for further battles – perhaps even this one if he should awaken in time to be part of the plan. For now, any strategy had to incorporate two versions: One in case he awakened, and one featuring only me.

Though even if he did wake, it was thought uncertain whether he might participate – a sensible deduction, given his past track record.

Just this morning, I had heard for myself the degree of reluctance he carried, even before any of this has occurred.

I could not help to think back to his words from the day before:

What if we lose against one of the angels and get killed..."

Back then, I had been offended, but now I was wondering whether I had not done him an injustice.

I had been so used to brushing my pain and fear aside, to label it as irrelevant because it could not be changed – so much so that it had become second nature to me. So much, in fact, that I had neglected to consider that he had not.

He had only been a part of the organization for a little over a month ago.

So resigned was I, so acutely aware of how little my pain mattered in the grand scheme of things, that I had inadvertently ended up treating him as if his did not matter either.

It is true that I had faith in the Commander – in fact, he may have been the only thing in this entire world that I had faith in.

But it was also undeniable that the relationship between the two was not a typical parent-child relationship as I'd heard it mentioned by my classmates or depicted in books.

Of course, there had been depictions of less blissful families as well – Indeed, a common cause listed was that a parent had been too occupied with their work to spend much time with their child.

As an outside observer I could of course put things in perspective: The Commander was working day and night to better the lot of mankind, his son included. It was inevitable that such crucial work would come to demand sacrifices – that the Commander would be presented with the harsh choice of either being with his son or saving him and everybody else on this planet from the machinations of SEELE.

Commander Ikari is a pragmatist through and through – when I think of it that way, I am not at all surprised with the option he has chosen.

I can only assume that this necessity must have led to bitterness and a falling out between father and son – I think I recall the subcommander mentioning that they had not seen each other for several years before the Third Child had been summoned as a pilot.

That would certainly explain this strange sense of avoidance between them.

I wonder now if the Third Child had been watching earlier when I was speaking with the Commander – perhaps he had felt no less envious of me than I did of him.

A strange, perplexing thought.

There is nothing in my life that is worth envying.

But did he know that? I'd never told him anything, while he had been basically talking at me this whole day – if not longer than that.

Of course, I had not said anything to him because there was no reason for it, nor even a chance that he might understand.

But what was his reason?

Belatedly, it occurred to me that he may have been trying to build a connection, like what my classmates did with each other. Clearly, bonding with the freckled boy and his tall athletic friend had brought him great joy.

It was a sad thing, really. Unlike his classmates, I doubted that I was capable of what it was that he wanted from me – nor would I enjoy it. Having to talk to somebody every recess would be exhausting, especially since I wasn't very good at it.

I doubt that he would still want this once he noticed what I was truly like. Surely he would be repulsed; Or perhaps he felt compelled to include me out of pity and obligation, like what the class representative had sometimes tried to do. It came down to a misunderstanding either way, but even so, his intention was probably not to offend me.

For the first time in my existence, it occurred to me that I might have overreacted – that just for a moment, I may have lost sight of the big picture just as much as he had.

I would be mindful not to repeat this in the future – that is, if there would be a future, for that would assume that the Third Child was going to wake up.

If he perished, then… this was not at all what I would have liked to choose as my very last words to him.

I held onto the glasses resting on my still plugsuit-clad lap.

Soon I was called away.

Captain Katsuragi's plan appeared to require us to fetch some classified particle gun from a government facility, and there was no time to be lost on logistics – she figured it would go the quickest if I just went and carried it across the landscape with EVA 00's gigantesque strides.

By the time we made it back, the word was that the Commander's son was no longer in intensive care and had been cleared for duty as soon as he woke up.

Fortunately, there had been no signs of permanent damage.

As soon as I was showered and dressed, I hurried to his hospital room, bringing with me my notes about the planned operation. Aside from informing him about that, I was to offer him something to eat if he should want it, as well as a new suit – I would assume that the paramedics must have cut him out of the last one in a hurry to administer emergency treatment.

Correspondingly, I found him covered in little more than a light blanket.

His exposed chest showed ugly red marks from both the defibrillator and an irritated patch of skin in the center of his chest which resembled a light burn – bt of course. His synchronization rate had overtaken mine sometime over the course of the last weeks, so it stood to reason that he was in the range to begin taking physical injuries.

This would be expected of one slotted to fulfill a role such as his, but still, it was astonishing to see him advancing at such a breakneck pace – only the week before, the previous angel's light whips had not left him with physical marks although they had pierced his EVA's body.

He harbored great power, without a doubt – though he did not look the part at all.

His build was thin, slender, delicate-looking; His face looked just as pale and fatigued as you would expect from one who had just narrowly been brought back from the edge of death.

Though they were father and son, his physique did not much resemble the Commander's tall, broad-shouldered frame. Perhaps he would still grow into it – or maybe he took after his mother.

I wondered what Mrs. Ikari used to look like, or how she perished – it was a misfortune indeed, for if she had been present to help the Commander in rearing their son, he might not have needed to send him away to be looked after by some carer, thereby preventing their estrangement – and if they ever did fight, she may have helped them mend the fences.

Or so I would think. It's not like I knew anything about what mothers are like, never having had one myself. While the Commander's presence may have filled a shadow of what a father might be like, there was no one in my life who might even have resembled any such role.

So I could not imagine her very well, but I still had reason to think that Mrs. Ikari, had she been present here, would have been of far more use than myself.

Perhaps she would have known how to comfort her son after his ordeal, which, as a capacity, was utterly beyond me.

All I could do for him when he awakened, was to do as I'd been told – to familiarize him with the plan.

It would not be long now.

I thought he'd returned to consciousness when I perceived a soft noise to the side of me, but he was only mumbling to himself as he slept, turning in some dream – Another thing which I could never hope to experience.

Still, if the boundary between sleep and waking was already crumbling, it could not be long now until he'd come to full wakefulness.

Moments later, he startled awake all at once, with a just barely intelligible word on his lips -

„Mama…!"

What a disappointment then, when his vision focussed to reveal only me.

He sunk back onto his sweat-soaked covers, taking stock of his surroundings.

„It's that ceiling again… that's what I get for piloting the EVA..."

I had nothing to say to that.

But soon he remembered me all on his own.

„...Ayanami… have you been here this whole time?"

I closed my book, retrieving my thin soft-cover notebook from the pocket of my uniform.

I read down the list of items in a businesslike fashion, making certain to emphasize just went each part of the plan was to occur.

When that had concluded, I pulled forward the tray with his hospital dinner.

„Your meal."

he looked away, malcontent, completing the deflating motion that had been in progress all while I was reading our orders. It seems that whatever he had been expecting or hoping for, it wasn't anything like this.

„...no thanks, I don't feel like eating anything…"

And there was one more task to handle:

„Here's your new suit."

The paramedics must have cut him out of the old one in a hurry.

„Don't forget to wear it."

As out of it as he seemed, I believed this admonition to be needed…

I can't say it proved unmerited since he only seemed to realize his state of undress in trying to parse my question.

He appeared far more startled by it than seemed in proportion – would he not expect the physicians to have required access to his body?

He had however just woken up from a near-death experience, so it probably couldn't be helped if he was agitated.

I wondered if it may have been too early to deploy him again, but, that was down to Captain Katsuragi's discretion and not mine. She was his handler after all so one would expect her to know the state of affairs with him.

Though her assessment might change if she saw him, curled up under the covers which he had frantically pulled up to himself.

„I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he stammered. As soon as he had a hold of his wits again, he let out a sigh: „I wonder how many more times I might have to apologize to you..."

There was nothing about this statement that could be replied to.

It mattered not, in the end, for he kept talking, somehow.

Probably, it was because he couldn't hold it in any longer, so even a human imitation myself could substitute for an open ear, though I hardly knew how to respond.

„Do I really have to get back into that thing?"

„Yes. You do."

That's what the plan requires. Had I not explained it only just now?

Well, all things considered, I do not think that comprehension was the limiting factor here – this became clear in the continuation of his speech:

„I don't want to!"

I knew better than to resent him. His frustration ended up directed at me simply cause I was there.

„Maybe you can stay cool about going through such horrible things, but I can't!"

It is ironic that he says that, but that in itself was evidence that he wasn't thinking clearly. That he was too caught up in his terror to consider my own brushes with death.

It was not pleasant to hear that he thought me incapable of feeling anguish, that he would describe me as ‚cool' as if he were the first one to nearly boil alive in an entry plug, but, there was no point in responding to that. If anything, it fell to me as the one not currently so affected to put it all in perspective.

He probably wasn't thinking much at all – he was just reacting.

The distress was still plain in his voice:

„I don't ever want to go through anything like this ever again!

It's terrifying… but I can't even run away…"

In the end, it was just as I thought.

„You're scared of EVA? Then fine, stay in bed."

He stopped in his tracks – After being urged to stand strong so many times, it was probably the last thing he expected to hear.

But it couldn't be helped:

„I can pilot Unit One as well. Dr. Akagi can replace the personal data at any time."

I believe he called after me once more once I had turned to leave, but I had nothing left to say but this:

„Farewell."

This briefing was over; I don't know what else there could be to discuss.

Only… he didn't leave.

He appeared at the cage just at the appointed time, hand in with Captain Katsuragi, his fingers tightly clasping the back of her hand.

Some unspoken looks passed between them, before he took a step forward, facing Dr. Akagi and myself:

„I'll do it – just this once."

I didn't expect this – I wonder what changed his mind, whatever would keep him here when he could leave, but in either case, it was fortunate for the operation – it was going to be a delicate one even with two units.

Thus we departed.

Again, it was deemed quicker to just transport the EVAs by walking them to their destination ourselves.

We were launched to the surface just outside the city limits, by the foothills of the encircling mountains, and began our march, which would lead us along the available charging stations, straight into the fading sunset – I struck me, incidentally, that it might be the last one I get to see through these particular eyeballs.

But we had not gone far when the Third Child suddenly paused.

I wondered if he was going to turn back, taking all of EVA 01's great weight along with him, but when I turned to check why his steps had fallen silent, I found him pointing.

„Ayanami, look!"

Our path just happened to take us past the same hill on which our school was situated.

Following on from EVA 01's outstretched arm, I could trace a path to its roof – and then I caught what he meant, my eyes narrowing when I noted some colorful dots clinging to its surface like sprinkles.

Scarcely slower than my thoughts, the AI of EVA 00's central computer adjusted to my input and activated the zooming function on the interface, so that, within moments, I received a clear view of the little figures lining the roof – our still-uniformed classmates waving actively in our direction.

I could see the Third Child's pair of friends, and many other students, some of which were holding up bits of cardboard with encouraging messages, most of them addressed at the Third Child himself. I figured that his friends must have orchestrated this.

– but I spotted the class representative, uncharacteristic as though it was for her to participate in anything orchestrated by Suzuhara, and she had written something in blue marker on a sheet in her college block:

„IKARI-KUN! AYANAMI-SAN! DO YOUR BEST!"

She had thought of me as well, though it was only out of obligation.

Well past nightfall, we stood ready at the hastily erected platform near the summit, standing at attention for one last briefing.

„And what if I miss – and the enemy shoots back?"

„There's no point in thinking of that."

It was fairly clear what Captain Katsuragi had meant by that – even the Third Child had little confusion left.

„So… - I have to take it out with one shot, or we're in big trouble..."

„So, my role is simply to protect EVA 01, is that correct?"

I still remembered that, actually.

But that was not the reason I spoke up.

It was the one way I could think of to maybe remind him, within the constraints of my role.

Dr. Akagi and the others dismissed us one last time and we signed off, like death-bound gladiators saluting Caesar before their matches.

The Commander himself had remained behind at headquarters and did not contact us directly at a time like this, but of course, there was no need -

I already knew what I was to do.

If we won then all would go as planned, and if I were destroyed, then everything that follows would become a problem for the next Rei Ayanami to fix.

Perhaps I would not see action at all, or perhaps EVA 00 and I would both see the dim artificial sparks of our beings snuffed out, melted into one indistinguishable sludge by the weapon of the angel.

And if we lived, then our suffering would continue onwards -

Like all the times before, there was not really a big difference in the outcomes, so far as I was concerned.

I did not commit to expecting any particular one all too closely, seeing no point in fearing an event that may never come to pass or hanging hopes on uncertain potentialities that may never come to pass.

I had no hopes and no dreams, and therefore, also no fears.

In my mind, I was simply reviewing the steps of the operation as I removed my clothing piece by piece, throwing it straight onto the floor for the sake of convenience – if I should come to reclaim it, I would simply pick it back up where I left it.

I was affixing the collar of the suit to my neck when I was shaken from my reverie by outside sounds, the stream of my thoughts scattering away.

The noise had come from beyond the green opaque curtain that had been placed across the truck that served as our makeshift on-site locker room.

„...we might already be dead by this time tomorrow…"

That may well be, but I could not discern the purpose behind making such a statement out loud?

„Why do you say that?"

But even once I had finished climbing into my suit and hit the button on my wrist in order to pressurize it, the Third Child made no reply.

Perhaps he had none.

Perhaps he was simply still scared, and couldn't help expressing it. Or still trying to bond, perhaps.

Would bonding tend to relieve fear?

I think I had seen that in books – people clinging onto each other's hands in the face of coming danger. I'd never really understood it, for no amount of touch could truly take away the danger.

A person could die and fade away even held inside your arms.

Though, of course, in this case, his fear itself was probably a part of the obstacle he faced, and if words or gestures may reduce that, then that was a good result, even if I did not understand the specifics of the how and why.

Thus, I chose to remind him once again of the plan:

„You won't die.

Because I will protect you."

Such were my orders, and I was resolved to carry them out.