I DO NOT OWN EVANGELION. I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS.

OK guys, I know this is short, but I've been extremely busy lately; I have a wrestling meet every Saturday and I have to study for finals, plus all the teachers have been piling on the projects. I swear I'll have updated this chapter or made chapter 4 soon, just bear with me, finals are next week after all! Thanks to Doug Dennis (whoever that is) for inspiration on the new title!

I drag myself into Misato's apartment late the next day.

After the doctors had finished deciding that I was physically well, they began to assess my mental readiness for the demands of Eva piloting. I knew exactly what they wanted me to answer every time, for I had taken advanced psychology in my college back in Germany. I strove to make myself sound as well as I possibly could. As always, I rose to the occasion. I was, in all appearances, a perfectly normal girl (as far as that goes, being the genius that I am). Little did they know what teemed beneath my fiery locks - an all-consuming hatred for Gendo Ikari. Soon he would know the wrath of Asuka Sohryu Langley.

My only visible injury is on my left wrist. The scar has nearly healed completely, but my hand hangs dead at my side. I can no longer move my left hand. The doctors say that I have severed all of the tendons in my wrist, and that my hand will probably never heal. It feels useless, a quality which I abhor. This hand will never be used again for the purpose of inflicting pain. Perhaps it will be harder for me to hurt people, as I so often do without conscious consent. I still have one hand left, however, and that will probably always be enough, for Angels or otherwise.

And now for Shinji. As I trudge through the apartment, I notice that Shinji's door is unlocked, as all Japanese doors are. Misato must have really been unsettled, imagining locks on things. Or perhaps it she only meant that Shinji would not leave his room, a prison of his own making. Considering Misato's drunkenness, I assumed the former, but you can never know. "Shinji's Lovely Suite" - what an ironic sign. I knew he spent the worst of his days there. Fortunately for him, *I* will soon brighten up his dismal hole, as I imagine it must be.

I knock on his door. No one answers, so I let myself in. A draft of cold, musty air wafts out, the kind that comes out of a room that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years. My vision of his dingy hole was somewhat wrong; his room is perfectly organized, and it looked as though no one has lived here for many days. This is far worse than my vision; it would have been better if his room showed some sign of life. Though I usually admired his cleanliness, now it sickens me. I question myself why I am doing this in the first place, and then I remember that it was a message from my mother. I forge ahead.

He lies curled up in the fetal position on his futon. thx reviewers! He looks as though he hasn't eaten for days. His cheeks are sunken, his face waxy, even paler than usual. His eyes do not register anything. He has a listless look about him. Anyone who did not know his habits would think him dead. Funny, the doctors seemed to think that I was the one who needed help.

I walk to his side, slowly, as though if I move too quickly he might fly away. I also fear to break the silence he has achieved; the room seemed to warn of terrible consequences for breaking the silences. Some silences do not want to be broken. As I lean over his prone form, the slightest hint of recognition surfaces in his eyes. Gradually, his eyes focus on my face. Finally, as he attains an almost lifelike visage, he begins to mouth something. I have to bend down further to hear

Shinji: Asuka. I thought. you were. dead.

For once, I make the conscious decision to answer without my customary haughtiness, despite the nature of my words.

Asuka: Anta Baka? How could a little knife silence me?

Shinji has no moisture left in his body for tears, though you could tell that if he could, he would be crying. Not the unhappy, miserable kind, but tears of joy. I began to feel the hole in my heart grow smaller.

Shinji: I thought I was. alone again.

It appears that even this small exchange was too much for his withered body, and he lapses into a deep, contented sleep.