6. Intrigue / Onigiri / Accompany.
I don't know what your problem is ... but I bet it's hard to pronounce.
~

Shinji shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Should we really be doing this? It's a lot like ... well, isn't it spying?"

"By nearly all definitions, yes." I passed him an earbud of the headphones.

"'Nearly' all?"

"Very well, all. But think of it this way..."

On the computer monitor, Misato got to her feet to address the early-morning meeting of NERV's remaining upper ranks. Most of them managed not to show that they had been up all night and were thinking about breakfast, although coffee cups around the table were being emptied almost as quickly as they were filled.

"…Misato wishes to spare you the burden of additional knowledge that may cause you worry, but which you are unable to do anything about. You wish to share in this knowledge nonetheless. This way, Misato's concern for you is eased, and your curiosity sated as well."

"What if we get caught?" He shifted closer, to better hold steady the laptop resting on our aligned knees.

"Then we blame everything on Kaji," I said, and Shinji laughed. The subject of our plan was not able to object, as he was currently on his way to the convenience store to buy groceries (in his usual disguise of beard and low-slung hat – hardly thorough, but officially he was 'dead' anyway, and so nobody would be actually expecting or looking for him).

# That's correct, # said Misato, and we listened closely. # Although Evangelion Unit 08's base stats didn't indicate combat superiority to the Japanese units, it managed to gain the upper hand by landing the first strike on Unit 01, and to retain it because Units 00 and 02 are not fully functional. During the battle, Unit 08 continued to operate at near-normality, practically regardless of physical injury. It was only when the controlling dummy plug was destroyed that it ceased operation and went silent. #

# Thank you, Major, # said the chairperson. # Doctor Akagi, what can you tell us about Unit 08's pilot? #

# Nothing significant yet, # said Dr Akagi, standing in turn. # The damage was almost complete – there was very little left intact. We were able to obtain a number of small samples, and combined with its behaviour during the battle – in particular its apparent lack of pain response – there is potential indication that the controller may have been a similar dummy system to our own. #

One of the other attendees, a Colonel by insignia, cleared their throat. # You're saying that they could have used a synthetic pilot. Do they have the First Child's data? # A shocked mutter went up around the table. Shinji said, "What does that mean?"

# We don't believe so. # Akagi looked impassive. # That information is secure under highest-level protection. No, the signs so far are that the other NERV branches would have indepentently synthesised new cores for their own systems. We're currently sifting through the wreckage for any biological remains that would belong to the core. If we can isolate its genetic material, we may be able to learn whether they created a totally artificial dummy plug, or used a living person as the basis, or, contrarily, if in fact there was a real human pilot operating Unit 08 during the battle. #

My blood ran cold. If Shinji had to again face the horror of fighting – of killing – another person…

At the corner of my eye, his expression matched what I felt. I swallowed, searching for the courage of speech, but failed, and cravenly returned my focus to the video feed.

# Until our investigation has progressed, I have nothing further to report, # Akagi was saying, and she took her seat again.

# Very well. # The chairperson turned to the seat next to her. # Colonel Moto, what information do you have about official reactions to this incident? #

The officer who had spoken earlier got to their feet. # The Chinese government has issued a Special Order A-801, rescinding NERV Beijing's legal protections and jurisdiction, and transferring command to the national government. However, we expect that another NERV branch, probably Russia, will be asked to step in and take over the facility. For now, all personnel have been detained and ranking officers placed under arrest – except for Commander Chen. He shot himself as soon as Eva Unit 08's defeat was confirmed. #

There was a murmur around the table. The chairperson waited until it had died down before speaking again.

# And what about the responses of the other NERV branches? #

# Publicly, the branches have all condemned Beijing in the strongest terms – there are even rumours that a motion might be made to the Chinese government to dissolve it, though I think that's unlikely. However, the private reactions tell a different story – in spite of the lockdown, second-level meetings are still going ahead under observation by the government wardens. Transactions of parts and equipment for Evangelions has stopped, but trade of raw materials continues. #

# They couldn't get too angry at China for doing what they all must be thinking of, # Misato commented cynically.

The primary screen of the video link switched to Commander Fuyutsuki as he got to his feet, and he ignored Misato's comment to address the conference in general. # Commander Watanabe at the Matsushiro Secondary Experiment Facility contacted me earlier this morning. She said she was shocked and appalled at Beijing's actions, and offered spare parts and biophysical resources to repair our Evangelions. She mentioned several times that countrymen should stand together. In my opinion, she was clearly interested in securing an alliance. As Matsushiro isn't a full branch, they don't have the self-defence capabilities of the other bases. #

Colonel Moto nodded. # Without SEELE's leadership, the different branches will find it difficult to work together against us. Most of them don't get along with each other any better than they do with us – obvious exceptions, of course, being Berlin and Hamburg. #

"They have Evangelion Units 05 and 06," I said to Shinji, who nodded without taking his eyes from the screen.

# Should we expect an attack by Germany soon? # asked Misato.

# I couldn't say. They were hit harder than any other branch by Third Impact, being the homeland of SEELE itself – they probably won't have the strength or audacity to make a move even in alliance. Also, it's likely China's defeat will make the others more cautious, and buy us some breathing space. #

Moto pressed their hands against the table. # Beijing made its move earlier than we, or anyone, would have anticipated. I think there's going to be a good deal more manoeuvring and preparation before the next assault. #

# Keep a close watch on communications between the other branches, # Commander Fuyutsuki instructed them. # I'll put a taskforce from Section Two and a ranking diplomat at your disposal. We don't want any more surprises. #

The chairperson shuffled the papers she held. # Thank you Commander, Colonel. If there's no further business, this meeting will close. #

"So there's going to be more," Shinji murmured, as the assembled leaders left the room. "We spent so long fighting Angels, and now our enemy is human, like us."

I exited the surveillance system and switched off my computer. "Yes, it's distressing to be opposed to your own kind."

Shinji covered his mouth. "Oh! I wasn't thinking."

I smiled at him as I got to my feet. "Don't worry – it does not matter to me. The truth is, the other Angels were never my allies. We were in competition with each other, just as we were with you Lilim – I never helped them, nor would they have helped me. Furthermore, by the time I was selected as the Fifth Child and compelled to actually oppose another Angel, I had already chosen to side with humans. There was never any question that the others were my comrades."

"...Oh." Shinji did not look reassured. "That's ... good, I guess?" He had followed me to my bedroom, and sat on the bed as I searched for my school clothes.

"It made things easier for me, certainly. When I decided to stand aside and cede the future to your kind, I was only betraying myself – I owed Armisael nothing."

"Armisael?" He fumbled the pronunciation of the strange word.

"The Sixteenth Angel, they of the Womb."

"They have names?"

"We have names, yes, written in the Dead Sea Scrolls – or at least, approximations that humans can speak and comprehend."

Shinji looked disconcerted at the reminder of my inhumanity, but his curiosity (and, I thought, his affection for the me that he had come to, at least partly, know) drew him on. "What's your real name, then?"

I threw my uniform shirt at his face, prompting a splutter of surprise. "Kaworu Nagisa."

"Hey!" He pitched it back at me, grinning. "Your Angel name, dummy."

"I am Tabris, the Angel of Free Will."

"Really? That's … actually really cool."

"I am really cool," I declared in spite of the evidence, and took off my pyjama top with what I hoped was an impressively suave and fashion-model-esque motion (and strongly suspected was neither of those things – I was not intuitively familiar with the concept of 'cool', after all).

"Um…" Shinji swallowed, blushing suddenly (…Perhaps it was 'cool', after all?)

Suddenly his eyes fixed on my chest and he jumped to his feet with a cry. "Kaworu—"

"What is it?"

He stood close before me and reached out; his fingertips lightly touched the centre of my chest, making me shiver although I could not have said why. I looked down, and saw what had startled him – over my heart, a vicious scar had appeared, red and raw against pale skin.

The shirt fell from my hands. "Oh ... you noticed it."

Shinji was still staring. "That ... that's from when I stabbed you, isn't it? When we thought Third Impact was going to happen. I – I did that. Kaworu, I'm so sorry." He looked and sounded as though he would cry. "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," I lied. I had been determinedly controlling my reaction to the twinges of pain as his fingers brushed the ragged scar.

He looked me in the eye. "That's not true, is it?" he said. "Please don't lie to me."

I realised the hurt on his face was more painful to me than the remnant wound. "I am sorry, Shinji. I will be honest with you – it does sting. But only a little, and I do not regret its existence."

"Why not?" His hands lingered on my chest, on either side of the scar.

"Because it represents your strength, your will to survive, and most of all my promise to you – that your existence and your happiness are more important to me than anything else. It will heal in time, but I will always remember that at the moment when it most mattered, I chose you."

"Kaworu..." he whispered. He stepped closer to me, and tilted his face up towards mine. I suddenly found I could not move. It seemed to be an age between heartbeats. Our noses brushed together.

"Shinji…" I had to force the words free. "There is something I must tell you."

His eyes were half-lidded and breath warm on my mouth. "Anything. You can tell me anything."

"Unit 08. The pilot."

"…Huh?"

"It was a dummy plug – one based on my data."

He stiffened. "What do you mean?" When his hands fell from my chest the skin felt suddenly cold.

"After the dummy system was deemed viable, my persona was digitised and copied so that it might be installed in the mass-production Evangelion units."

"Your – persona? The other Evas are controlled by – other 'you's?"

"They are not really me," I said quietly. "They have no souls, only electro-synaptic mimicry. No hearts, just organs."

He backed away from me.

"I am sorry for not telling you sooner." My voice wavered.

Shinji stared at me a long moment, then turned away.

"We should get ready for school," he muttered, and with his back to me he hurriedly changed into his uniform. As I, more slowly, got dressed, Shinji tucked his pyjamas into his bag, neatly folded the blankets on the mattress where he had slept, and went out to the kitchen, all without looking at me once. I heard the front door open and Kaji greet him as he returned.

I was left alone, knowing that it was what I deserved.

After everything that had been happening – with Third Impact, with the attack by Unit 08, and with Shinji that morning – going to school felt both mindlessly trivial, and comfortingly normal. Attendance was higher than I had ever known it; even Rei was present, despite there not being any tests or important events scheduled. The students were both livelier and more studious than usual; the room was never silent throughout the day, as despite repeated admonishments from the teacher (old Grasshopper having made it through, though with no evidence of increased vitality), there was always at least one conversation that simply could not be suppressed. In between these, however, students worked with intensity normally reserved for exams.

"It's gotta be because of the disaster," said Toriyama earnestly as we talked over lunch, having joined us from his own class. He gestured at the classroom, at the energy and activity all around us. "It's like everyone's shifted into a higher gear, don't you think?"

"That is an apt description," I agreed. "People seem to have decided to throw themselves wholly into their lives, not from desperation but with enthusiasm."

There was the sound of a ruckus from the yard, and we looked out the window to see a pair of boys lift a third onto their shoulders and deposit him into a garden hedge. The victim scrambled free and began leaping around in strange contortions; it became apparent that his clothing had been invaded by insects. Several of the watching students were filming the display on their mobile phones.

"Enthusiasm," Toriyama echoed, grinning at me. "That's one word for it, yeah."

"Which just means it's even more of a mess in here than usual," said Kensuke. He gestured around the untidy, poorly-cleaned room. "Just imagine if class rep Horaki came back and saw this – she'd throw a fit!" Toriyama and I laughed.

"You guys saw her the other day, right?" Toriyama said to Kensuke and I. "How's she going at the new place?"

"She says she is settling in well," I told him, "although when we asked, she admitted that she has not yet been elected class representative."

He chuckled. "I'm sure it's only a matter of time."

Kensuke was brooding as though he had been reminded of bad news. He frowned at me suddenly. "I still can't believe you didn't tell us you were the new Eva pilot."

Toriyama dropped his chopsticks. "What?"

I sighed. "I said I was sorry."

"But why didn't you say anything?" Kensuke asked.

"I did not want to worry you," I said. "After what happened to Toji, I knew everyone would understand the risks I was taking, and I did not want to cause anyone that much anxiety."

Toriyama hit me on the arm – fortunately not in the place where Asuka was wont to attack me. "That's not fair. Nagisa, we're your friends. You have to tell us this stuff and let us worry about you, that's what friends do."

"We don't make the rules, we just enforce them with prejudice," said Kensuke, trying to sound flippant but only reaching gruffness.

"Don't you mean without prejudice?" I asked.

"Did I stutter?" he growled.

I held up my hands in surrender. "I am sorry to have deceived you. In future I will share important news, even if it causes distress."

"Good," said Toriyama, and, "You better," Kensuke said in the same moment. Toriyama picked up his chopsticks again, and they both went back to their lunch, my transgression provisionally forgiven.

"Oh, Nagisa!" called a voice. I looked away from my friends to see Sugimoto at the door, holding something behind her back.

"Hello, Sugimoto," I said as she approached, returning her smile. "You look nice today." Her hair had been carefully styled, and decorated with coloured pins.

"Oh, that's not true at all," she demurred, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression. She glanced around the room. "Asuka's not here? That's too bad. I made plum onigiri and I was going to share, but if I can't give it to her I guess it'll go to waste. Unless..." She looked at me consideringly. "Say, Nagisa, do you like plum onigiri?"

Out the corner of my eye I saw Kensuke and Toriyama making silent but enthusiastic gestures that I should answer in the affirmative – or go horse riding, it was difficult to tell.

"Yes, I do like them," I said to Sugimoto. "I could pass it on to Asuka when she returns to class, if you like?"

She waved a hand. "Oh, no, that's fine ... I just thought if you like them maybe you could have them instead. My aunts are always saying not to let good food go to waste..." She proffered a bento box, wrapped around with a ribbon. "Here."

I blinked. "Are you sure?"

"I just don't want them to go to waste, that's all!" She was blushing lightly. "And if they were left until tomorrow they wouldn't taste as good, you know? Here!" She pushed the box at me until I took it.

"Thank you, Sugimoto. This is very thoughtful of you."

She had linked her hands behind her back, affecting an air of nonchalance. "It's nothing, really. Um – I hope you like them, at least."

"I'm sure they will be delicious," I said. Just out of Sugimoto's line of sight, Kensuke and Toriyama's gestures had morphed into recognisable victory signals.

Sugimoto shuffled her feet. "Well ... if they're no good, tell me and I'll make some better ones for – that people can try. Anyway, got to get back to class. See you!" Abruptly she turned and hurried away, leaving too quickly to shut the classroom door behind her.

As I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off the bento box, Kensuke clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Nicely done, man!" he said.

"Yeah," Toriyama agreed. "Half the guys in our class like Sugimoto."

"Is that so?" I was unsure what that had to do with Sugimoto giving me her leftover food, but it was probably unimportant. I lifted out an onigiri and bit into it. "Mm! These are very good. Would you like to try one?"

They hesitated, apparently torn between sharing a delicious treat and not taking what belonged to me.

"Here," I said, and nudged the bento box toward them. Their appetites won, and they took one each.

We had just reached agreement that they were not quite as good as Shinji's, but better than those from the school cafe, when the door slid open and Asuka strode in.

Despite her bereavement, Asuka had resumed attending school not long after Third Impact – I imagined as a tactic to restore stability to her upended life. After her long absence from class and sudden reappearance, she was more popular than ever, and thereby far from alone in her recovery even in Hikari's absence.

Her gaze found me and I waved, but before she could respond she was surrounded by classmates trying to engage her in conversation, and she dismissed me to speak with them. I did not take this personally; to respond with indignance to every slight from the Second Child would be exhausting.

Shinji did not return until the end of the lunch break; he slipped in quietly during the muddle of students returning to their own classrooms, but as always I was aware of him, and noticed that he seemed more preoccupied and withdrawn than usual. I caught his eye and offered a tentative smile, but he looked away quickly.

He had not said two words to me all day. During the commute from my apartment to school, despite walking together and standing next to me on the train, he had gone so far as to put headphones in, deliberately and unmistakably banishing me from his notice.

Knowing this to be my own fault did not lessen the hurt.

As Kensuke and Toriyama returned the desks to their usual positions, Shinji crossed the room to assist them, in seemingly an automatic response. When the correct arrangement was restored, his eyes fell on the decorated bento box in front of me.

Kensuke saw his puzzled look. "Ah, you noticed," he said gleefully. "Know what this is?"

"Onigiri," Toriyama supplied, before Shinji had time to guess. "Sugimoto gave them to Nagisa."

This appeared to mean something significant to Shinji, who suddenly looked at me with wide eyes.

"That is not quite how it happened," I said. Shinji's expression, which I was having trouble reading, nonetheless troubled me. "She had made extra, and brought them here in order to share with Asuka. Seeing that Asuka was not here, she passed them on to me so that they would not go to waste."

Toriyama guffawed. "Sure, that's all it was."

"Yeah, no ulterior motive at all," Kensuke agreed.

"She gave those to you," Shinji said, looking now at the onigiri, and I could not even rejoice that he was speaking to me, not with these unsettling undercurrents. "And you accepted them. That's ... nice."

Kensuke nudged his arm. "What's with that look, Ikari? Anyone'd think you were jealous or something." Shinji's spine stiffened.

"Jealous? Ikari likes Sugimoto?" said Toriyama gleefully.

"What? No, no I don't!" Shinji put his hands out defensively. "No, it's nice that she gave Kaworu onigiri, it's sweet of her."

"They have plum filling," I said. "Would you like one?"

He looked at me without saying anything, then shook his head and looked away.

The teacher came into the room at that moment, and Toriyama dashed back to his own class, while Shinji returned to his seat. It was three desks to my right and two rows ahead, but at that moment it felt like a yawning gulf separated us. And in the wake of a worldwide disaster, under threat by powerful enemies, uncertainty and danger all around, to have lost Shinji upset me as much as anything else.

It had been observed – by myself and others – that Rei Ayanami's place of residence was far from homelike. A studio apartment in a state of dingy dereliction, with poor lighting and minimal furniture, could hardly be expected to support the comfort of its occupier.

The transformation project had commenced with an attempt at subtlety – an item of décor here and there ("Do you have space for a fruit bowl? I already have one…"); a donation of leftover cooked food whose colourful container was designated to remain; a participation in after-meal washing up that continued cleaning along the bench and over the fronts of cupboards "just while I'm here, may as well," – nothing too overt, so as not to impose or embarrass.

When Shinji, and then Misato, began contributing their own efforts, it warmed my heart. When Asuka sent a jewel-toned wind chime along with Shinji on one of his visits "just because Pen-Pen keeps trying to bite it, dumb bird must think it looks like a bunch of fish!", there was a collective gape of surprise at the gesture – though not at its downplay.

After Commander Ikari's death, the attempt at subtlety was abandoned.

The broken window blinds were replaced by two pairs of curtains – one semi-sheer with a pastel print, the other thick enough to completely block sunlight, for night-shift recoveries. A fluffy deep-woven rug softened the floor beside the bed, whose hospital-starch white linen was retired in favour of higher thread counts and gentler hues. And (Shinji's idea, but my arrangement) a cosy armchair now nestled in the window's corner, accompanied by a side table and reading lamp.

A seemingly half-overwhelmed Rei had responded by reflexively making industrial quantities of tea for each person contributing, to which there were no complaints whatsoever.

Today, Kaji had come into his own, by happening across an inexpensive but decent quality second-hand viola at a local market. Her face when I handed it over, and she registered that it belonged to her alone, had been … transcendent.

Meanwhile I had brought my own violin and flute (being easier to carry than a piano keyboard, not to mention a double bass…), and after a careful inspection and tune of Rei's new-to-her instrument, we played her favourite duet.

We were well practiced – it had become a custom, once a week or so, that Rei and I would go to the music room after school, but before she (now we) had to leave for NERV, and play whatever we felt like. There was no structure or plan to these sessions, they were not lessons or rehearsals; we had no goal other than enjoyment of creating music and of each other's company. In the effort and concentration required to bring the songs to life, there was also relaxation – it was a labour of love. As such, the repertoire tended to the self-indulgent.

In addition to being a gift for Rei, on this day, when Shinji had suddenly shrunk away from me, I was more grateful than ever for the soothing beauty of music. As we dreamed our way through the nocturne, I felt my hurt and anxiety dissipating, replaced by serenity. The world did not cease to exist, but while we played, it lost its power to upset; I was calm, and stronger for it.

When the piece finished, I lowered my violin and massaged my hands and wrists, working out the stiffness I never noticed while I was playing. I did not have perfect posture, and the unavoidable fatigue and tension were worse than they should be, but they were a small price to pay for the rewards of making music.

Across from me, Rei rested the viola on her lap and rubbed her hands together, likewise soothing the stress of exertion. Her eyes as she regarded the instrument were soft.

"Have you been practicing more of late, Rei?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I would like to increase the number of pieces we can play." The 'together' was left unsaid, but it was there nonetheless.

"That is a very good idea," I said. "The more, the merrier, yes? We may one day have enough for a concert."

She looked briefly and subtly alarmed before she realised I was not being serious. As I chuckled at her consternation, she distracted herself by playing a few scales. Eventually she set her viola down again and looked at me; I thought I detected concern in her expression.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "It looks as if you're troubled."

I smiled sadly. "You may be right."

"Is it to do with Ikari?"

Taken aback by her accuracy, I asked, "How did you know?"

Rei shrugged fractionally. "In class I noticed you looking at him more than usual. You seemed bothered. Did something happen between you?"

The violin bow spun between my fingers. "…I told him that Evangelion Units 05 through 13 are operated by dummy plugs based on my psychometric data."

A jerk of surprise ran through her. "They are?"

I nodded. "I wished to assure him that no human died in the battle yesterday, but the truth is far from inculpable either."

"Due to the violence committed by Unit 01's dummy plug against Suzuhara in Unit 03. Yes, I see."

"And so he has been avoiding me since this morning, and has not arranged with me for one of us to stay at the other's house tonight, for the first time since Third Impact. I … it is perhaps childish, but I feel … punished. Even though I am the cause of my own punishment." I fumbled the bow, and it clattered to the floor.

Rei gracefully leaned down to collect it and hold it out to me; as my fingers closed around it and we were connected, her warm red eyes held mine. "You should talk to him. Even if he is not reconciled immediately, he deserves to know how you feel, and the truth of your experience. Otherwise nothing will change."

"You think it will help?"

"Ikari cares for you a great deal. I do not believe that his conviction will be vanquished by this."

"Thank you, Rei."

She released the bow and said, her gentle voice now almost brusque, "I am the one who should be thanking you. In Third Impact, you nearly died, did you not? You persuaded Ikari to mortally injure Unit 02 in order that the Angel be destroyed – offering your life to save the Lilim – to save us."

"Of course." I reached over and held her hand, apologising for causing the worry I now recognised in her. "It is the nature of affection to make sacrifices for those one cares for. I wished for you all to survive, and I bought that wish with my life – or so I thought."

"Was that when Ikari's own wish drew your soul into the potentia of Third Impact?" Her voice seemed nearly expressionless, but I had learned how to listen for the subtle currents of emotions that were still new and surprising to her – in this case, a mix of awe and wistfulness.

"Yes, it was. His feelings were strong enough, actualised by Unit 01 in her moment of apotheosis, to salvage my soul from the very brink of death." My smile, prompted by remembering the testament of Shinji's love, faded. "I hope that has not changed."

I stirred myself from reverie though, as something else occurred to me. "But Rei, how is it that you have not forgotten Third Impact, when everyone else has?"

She shook her head. "I cannot say that I actually remember it. I am able to recall isolated details, but it was, as Soryu described it, like a dream that fades on waking. It would be more accurate to say that I deduced its occurrence in retrospect. The Instrumentality Project was the reason I was born, the purpose for which Commander Ikari intended me to be his tool. I was familiar with its workings and consequences, and thereby able to recognise the significance of certain aftereffects, and infer from them, even though I was not the Key as I had been designed."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Then, Rei, would that not make your decision to maintain individuality a rejection of the Commander's plan – and therefore a conclusive demonstration of your independence from him?"

Rei paused, considering my suggestion. "I had not thought of that. I suppose ... you may be right."

"That is something you may be proud of, then, is it not? That you have made your own choices and direct your own life?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I am no longer his puppet. He does not define me anymore."

I saw suddenly that Rei's eyes were brimming with tears. I got to my feet, set our instruments aside, and put my arms around her. She leant into the embrace, her head on my shoulder; I felt her trembling slightly as she held onto me, and heard her breath hitch. I stroked her hair soothingly, and we sat together in the silence of the apartment a long time; and the girl who had been called a heartless doll was finally able to cry – cognisant of all ambiguity and imperfection in their relationship – for the only parent she had ever known.