Disclaimer: Evangelion is the property of Studio GAINAX. Not me. No money whatsoever is being made off this story, so please, no one sue me. Thanks much.
Author's Notes: Yes, I am slow. Sorry about that folks, but life intervenes. I'm still trying to be relatively quick about producing part six, but I would rather have something worthwhile come out of a long period of inactivity than something not so good from a glut rush. As always, comments and criticism are always welcome. I can be contacted at ziggymd24@yahoo.com. Previous parts of this series can be found at members.aol.com/doc7dmz. My new webpage is currently out of order. Okay, enough babbling on my part. Here's the story.
"Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child, shivers in the cold,
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold"
- From 'Do You Hear What I Hear,' original words and music by Noel Regney & Gloria Shayne.
Blue. Yellow. White. Green. Red.
The colors flared to life, disrupting the darkness and spilling their ambience over one another. The room's heavy, lazy atmosphere found itself being pushed away, forced to rise to its haunches and move outward. Those five glows settled into one another, solidifying a ring of light, and waited for the conference to begin.
White.
Another light blossomed opposite its counterpart, and nestled between the shoulders of blue and red. Its occupant sat comfortably, a picture of smooth yet utter control. A pair of gloved hands supported his face and disguised his mouth, while a set of dark lensed wire-rims concealed his eyes. He was effectively hidden from them, an impenetrable enigma behind a friendly facade. Still, the effort had to be made.
"Ikari." White spoke, forcing a dry decaying voice to projection. "We have been made aware of a disturbing situation concerning the Third Child. Why did you not report that the pilot of Unit-1 suffered injuries resulting in blindness?" The Committee waited, but not a movement, a glimmer of betrayal. Only his voice, never wavering for a moment, appeared from beneath the man's hands.
"It was not necessary to report the situation," Gendo stated.
"So you assume," Yellow accused the commander.
"I am merely relating the facts," Gendo reassured them. "The Third Child was injured during a practice sortie. He is suffering from flash blindness, a temporary affliction that will be gone by the time the next angel appears."
"You cannot be sure of such a thing, Ikari," Green said.
"You risk our success upon your own whim," Red added, accentuating the point.
Gendo remained placid but for a single eyebrow that rose. "You question the schedule then?"
"No." White spoke before any other, and knew that he was representative of the committee. "The predictions are accurate and will continue to be so. But the point is valid, Ikari, that you gamble where no money should be placed."
"Chairman, I gamble on nothing. The Third Child will be recovered in time to intercept the next angel. Doctor Akagi is currently assisting the recovery process through drug therapy. The boy, and Unit-01, will respond when called upon."
"Very well," Blue conceded.
"We shall trust you on this," Yellow noted.
"But tell us, Ikari," White spoke again, silencing the other committee members, "there is no truth to the rumor that the Second and Third children suffered their injuries during a personal attack?" There was little point in asking the question, White knew. Whether it bore any part of truth or not, Ikari would not betray that fact. As it was for them, it was for him. The distinction between truth and lie did not exist.
"No. Both were sustained during the practice sortie. It was - unfortunate, but easily dealt with. Perhaps you should re-evaluate your agents, Chairman. If they cannot even present you with accurate information on such an open topic then they are not worth employing."
White frowned, the lines of his aging face folding together and overlapping. "Perhaps, Ikari. Perhaps."
Blue. Yellow. White. Green. Red. They all collapsed in on themselves, fading away and snapping the circuit of light. Darkness grasped the permission given it, and hauled itself back into the vacated areas. Still, it could not yet reclaim all of the room. One lone light still pestered its existence.
Gendo Ikari straightened, unfolded his hands, and picked the phone up from its hook. "Fuyutsuki," he stated. "Notify Rei."
* * *
It was an average hotel room, the dime-a-dozen kind with the stiff chocolate brown carpeting and pale cream painted walls. It was longer than wide, and held an entire wall full of windows at its outside end. The thick drapes were pulled firmly shut, allowing only the warm yellow light of two table lamps to permeate the room. The television was switched off, and the tiny clock radio emitted not a single word or note.
A single painting hung from one wall, a boil of flat contrasting color upon the room's static coat. Upon the canvas a girl knelt in a mess of dirt, surrounded by elements that raged out of control. Fire leapt to her right, brown specks of insects swarmed to her left, and in the distance a great brutal tidal wave threatened to swamp the shore. And yet she seemed peaceful, content almost to be hugging a boy to her dirty white shroud, to have her hand gently covering his eyes. 'Release,' the small plaque on its frame stated.
Just below this painting stood a full bed, and its lone occupant rolled slightly under the covers. She was a younger woman, perhaps 27 years old, whose length of blonde hair splayed wildly as she moved, obscuring her full soft face. The woman eventually settled, and soon silence returned to the room.
But it was not complete.
Swift sharp clicks emanated from the left of the bed, sounding off and rolling towards its foot. A desk was placed there, all cheap wood and lacquer; a pleasing piece, if less than sturdy. Finally, stationed at this example of economy was a man, a man whose long hair was tied into a pony tail and left to fall gracelessly down a bare back. Kaji rubbed his chin, scratching at the wash of stiff bristle there, then let his fingers once again attack the keyboard of the laptop.
'A-d-l-e-r-,-I-l-s-e.'
A quick strike of the 'enter' key and his pinky returned to the set position. He waited as the PC hummed and the icon churned, then was rewarded when a query box subsumed the screen.
'Name verified,' it stated. 'Password please.'
Kaji glanced back at the woman on the bed, and allowed himself a small smile. His fingers flexed, and once again he was typing.
'0-0-7.' A hard return.
A red heraldic shield appeared on the screen, and was quickly overlapped by the pale creases of an unfolding scroll. 'Schreiner Academy,' the computer screen read. 'Administrative Interface.' Kaji thumbed the mouse over the screen, stopping at the long menu that resided at the top. A quick double click and he was soon faced with, 'Student Registry.'
Kaji's smile widened.
"From all Corners They Cried"
An Evangelion Fanfic
By Dave Ziegler
Part 5: 'Seven Days Hence/From Morning till Midday'
Version 5.0
Telephones were created by sadists. There was no other explanation for it.
Misato Katsuragi let herself lay on the floor of her bedroom for a few moments longer, contemplating dark and destructive thoughts, and ignored the insistent ring that was disturbing everything. Finally, she kicked herself free of the blankets, swearing to herself that she would later find a very large and very therapeutic hammer, and picked up the phone.
"Hello," she slurred as the receiver came to rest upon her cheek. She leaned back against the side of her bed, and allowed her eyes to happily slide closed. It just wasn't right, waking someone up this early in the morning. The day wasn't supposed to start till seven, eight if she could help it. But six? That was just cruel. The only thing that could ever rouse her at this hour was NERV.
NERV.
Misato's shoulders suddenly clenched, and her back wrenched itself straight and away from her bed. The voice on the other end allowed for no inattention, and it forced itself through Misato's still sleepy state and hit every light switch her mind possessed.
"Yes, sir," Misato said, nodding to herself. "Yes, sir. Yes, I understand completely. I will alert the children immediately."
She placed the phone back onto its hook, and stared at it for a few moments, as if not quite sure what to make of it. Then her lips suddenly thinned, and her face turned down. Misato picked herself up off the floor, pushed the blanket beneath her bed, and stiffly exited her room.
The rest of the apartment was quiet, still: the perfect picture of a calm, ordinary early morning. It was the kind of scene she loved, a symbol that perhaps her dreams were not so far from fruition after all. Like her sleep, it did not deserve to be destroyed, but the choice had been taken from her. Misato sucked in a long breath, then bellowed, "Asuka! Shinji! Wake up now!"
They never did last.
* * *
"Are they insane?!"
Asuka's fist slapped against the table top, rattling the motley collection of breakfast dishes and causing the corner of Misato's mouth to twitch. In all honesty, she had been expecting an explosion of some sort from Asuka following this revelation. Ever since the accident her charge had been more temperamental than usual, snapping at her for even the smallest of comments. Couple that with the fact that she had been acting civil toward Shinji the past three days, and, well, a statement of this magnitude would very likely be the catalyst for an eruption. Expected or not, though, screaming wasn't going to help matters any.
"Quite frankly, I agree with you, Asuka," Misato stated, toying with the tab of her beer can. "I don't think this is an appropriate time to be sending Shinji back to school. In fact, I would be quite happy if he could just stay home until Ritsuko's medication starts taking affect. But the commanders have ordered that he return to school starting today, so that's what is going to happen."
Asuka spared a glance for Shinji, who slumped in his chair, letting the food in front of him stand idle. Her gaze swung back to Misato. "And you went along with this that easily? How could you, Misato? He's not going to be able to function in school like this! I mean, hell, he won't even be able to see the blackboard, much less take notes."
"I don't think academics are the foremost concern at the moment, Asuka. Besides, I don't remember either of you exactly over working yourselves trying to keep up with your teacher before. Why should that change now? In any case," Misato continued, "the reason he's being sent back is because the psych department thinks it will help him to be around his friends."
"Oh yeah," Asuka snorted around a mouthful of tea. "They think the other two stooges are somehow going to keep him from moping around like a terminal patient? Don't count on it."
Misato bit the inside of her cheek. It was a bad habit really, but something she had done ever since college to force her mouth shut when what wanted to come out really wouldn't help all that much. She indulged in a moment of deep, full breathing, then resituated her sights upon the scowling German girl. "Not only Aida and Suzuhara, Asuka. Though their presence will help too. There's also Rei, that Horaki girl, you," she stressed, jabbing a finger toward Asuka, "and all your other classmates."
Shinji shifted slightly in the chair, his head still downcast, lolling toward the table's surface. It bothered Misato that he hadn't ventured an opinion on this, even a tiny protest. Perhaps that meant the psych department was right. Maybe he did need more of his peers helping him through this. Maybe she wasn't enough for him.
"If you think that any of our other classmates spare idiot here two seconds, or that he makes any attempt to talk to them, Misato, then you are really out of touch. Besides, as you well know, not all of our classmates are the naturally helpful sort."
Misato's jaw locked as her eyes forced themselves to the bruises on Asuka's forearms and across her chin. The last three days at school had been hell for her. Word of her injured shoulder and bound arm had spread through the school, drawing a number of malcontents and opportunistic bullies from their hiding holes. It had started out of the first day as shoves during the lunch break and gym activities. They were always from the behind though, a fleeting harassment so that Asuka could not pinpoint anyone for retribution. The second day had turned loose some open sneers and verbal assaults as these other children felt more bold from their previous success. Finally, come the third day, Asuka found herself grabbed from behind while proceeding to lunch with her friends, and propelled forward in a mad tumble down the stairwell. She had been lucky that she remained relatively uninjured from the fall.
And, of course, no one had seen anything. So the crime went unpunished.
"He won't be able to get around, much less protect himself from all those pathetic cowards," Asuka continued. "Didn't you tell them any of this? Didn't you put any of it in your reports?" Asuka's free arm tensed on the table top, looking as if it were getting ready to catapult her cross the surface and at Misato.
"The commanders were privy to all relevant information, and this was the decision they came to. I can't do anything about it, Asuka."
"Coward," Asuka sniffed, raising her head and setting her chin. "Are you afraid to fight?"
Misato spun around in her chair and yanked the kitchen phone from its cradle. Her thumb passed over the 'on' button, and the small matte unit suddenly found itself being proffered to Asuka. "Would you like to give it a try, Asuka? Here's the phone. Speed dial six for the commander's office." Misato's grin was lopsided and tight, a display of stiff pressured teeth.
Asuka focused on the receiver for a moment, her mouth working but not quite forming any words. Her eyes swept across its surface, striking back and forth in an unbelieving panic. Misato couldn't help but enjoy every single moment of it. Finally though, the girl's face firmed and she returned to her previous stance. "I don't need to do anything," she declared. "It's not my problem, and it's not my job."
"And you know as well as I do that arguing with the commander will get you nowhere very fast," Misato stated. Asuka simply disregarded the major and ambushed her tea instead. Well, it was a better result than yet another continuation to the argument. Misato shifted Asuka aside for the moment, and concentrated on Shinji.
"Shinji," she asked, "what do you think of all this?"
The boy stirred, picking his head up and centering his face toward the direction of Misato's voice. His blank, lax eyes settled on a point somewhere near her cheek, then steadied. Misato cringed for a moment, all the revulsion of seeing her Shinji forced to be like this slipping out from lock and key. He didn't deserve it, not such a gentle, timid soul. He had perpetrated no crimes that called for such a punishment.
"It's - it's fine, Misato. If father ordered it, then I have to go." Shinji began to slump back down toward the table.
"Are you sure?" Misato persisted.
"Yes." Shinji's voice came out somewhat slurred, as his chin was now resting upon folded arms. "But, do you - do you think that Asuka could help me again?" He shifted toward the left, where Asuka was perched upon her chair, consuming her fish with practiced disinterest. "Like you did the other day with breakfast?"
Asuka froze, her teacup halfway to her mouth. Widened eyes moved slowly, surreptiously over till they picked out the form of one Shinji Ikari. Her hand fell, and the cup found itself once again sitting upon the Formica surface. She looked Shinji over, her own face creased in surprise. "I," Asuka began, then stopped. She found his eyes locked to hers, not blank and lifeless but full of a yearning need. "I - I can do that," Asuka said, her voice in quiet concession.
Shinji nodded. "Then don't worry, Misato." He then stood, steadied himself with a hand against the wall, and proceeded to head for the door. "I'm going to get ready." And he left the room.
Asuka and Misato sat for moment, awash in the silence Shinji deposited in his wake. Perhaps there was something more than civility happening between her two charges? Misato had been angry when Shinji had first told her about Asuka's theatrics concerning breakfast, but he had been able to calm her and eventually show how most of what Asuka had said to him was true, and that it had helped him. Was it too farfetched to believe that it had helped him more than even he realized? That somehow, in that moment between the two of them they had perhaps reached an understanding? Or had something else happened that she didn't know about? Misato smiled. Whatever the case, she was grateful to see such a scene take place, even if it didn't last past this morning.
"Asuka," Misato requested. "Please do look after him."
Asuka jerked at the sound of the major's voice, and forced her eyes away from the kitchen door. "I don't need you to tell me what to do!" she spat. Asuka kicked her chair away, then thundered from the room.
* * *
Tick.
And it was 7:15 am.
The back streets of Tokyo-3 were barren and bereft of life. All about the avenues of concrete and steel a slight wind scattered, unobstructed in its delirious, sweeping dance. The workday was soon to be started, but most places of employment were found within the mobile towers of the central block. Consequently, enormous amounts of traffic found itself rushing in, while almost nothing headed out or even lingered through the peripheral streets.
Except for school children. The narrow streets and alleyways were their morning playgrounds, beaten down and worn with their perpetual, regimental footsteps. They knew most every path to their eventual place of imprisonment, and also every stop, highlight, or quick fun that could be found along those various ways. This was their domain.
And yet, still, this specific street was oddly empty. Well, almost empty, that is. Asuka, after her return to school those four days ago, had taken to making this her new route to school. The streets she had selected were carefully chosen, neatly bisecting and paralleling all the popular and heavily traveled routes. She had been in no mood for early encounters, especially not after what had happened before.
It wasn't that she was scared, however. This new path was precautionary, a way to avoid being pulled into frivolous conflicts. As much as she might want to give some of those idiots with the attitudes a good ass kicking, it was not intelligent tactics to make oneself an obvious target. Asuka had endured enough of that her last few days at school.
"Left!" Asuka called out, her voice leaping over her shoulder. She strode forward, dipping behind a corner of flaky white masonry. Shinji moved behind her, clutching his bag in both hands and placing one trembling foot in front of the other. It looked as if he was walking through a den of snakes, desperately trying to pick out that perfect clean spot where his foot would not disturb anything. A few moments passed, every step denoted by a couple quiet clicks from his wristwatch, before Asuka threw her head back around the building. "Are you coming, Third Child? I know we left early today, but at this pace we'll still end up being late."
"I'm trying, Asuka," Shinji mumbled, head still downcast, eyes darting around as if they were scanning the ground in front of him. "This isn't easy."
"Why not?" she countered. "Just think of it as the kitchen."
"This isn't like the kitchen!" Shinji barked, halting mid step. "You were right about that. I knew it so well that I could get around and do things without a problem. This is a totally different way to school, though. It's my first time, Asuka. I can't even see if there's a rock or a pothole right in front of me!"
Asuka blinked, then exhaled sharply. "Oh, alright. Hold still for a moment." She pulled herself fully around the bend, and skipped past the few loose bricks that littered the side of the street. "I'll help if you really need it that much," she stated, slipping her arm through his. "Now, just follow my lead, and try not to fall. Because if you pull me down, Ikari, I will beat you from here back to the apartment. And one more thing, keep stride with me, won't you?"
"Sure," Shinji mumbled.
The pair began to walk, haltingly at first as Asuka tugged Shinji along, but eventually coming to understand one another and agree upon a moderate, even pace. The morning sun continued to rise, flickers of its light spinning off of some of the obstacles, almost adding a visual punctuation to each of Asuka's spoken directions. It proceeded like that for a while, Asuka nudging him along by adding directions and descriptions of the land.
Then the silence was broken.
"I just don't understand this decision," Asuka complained, steering Shinji about yet another corner. "I mean, really, how much interacting do they think you're going to be able to do?"
Shinji managed a weak shrug. "I can still talk, Asuka."
"You could do that before, too. And who'd you waste it on? The idiot duo. Sheesh, Third Child, talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel."
"They're nice to me," Shinji insisted.
"Maybe," Asuka huffed. "But Aida drools after your every footstep, oh you mighty Eva pilot, you. Pretty soon you're going to have to start wearing boots."
Shinji stiffened, and was promptly pulled along a few steps before rediscovering the rhythm. He remained silent, deeps faults forming in his face as his mouth twisted.
"Oh Christ," Asuka stated with a roll of her eyes. "I say one thing and you get all sullen and reticent. Come on, Shinji. Talk, will you? We're still fifteen to twenty minutes from the school at the rate you're shuffling."
"Have you had any more dreams?" he suddenly asked.
Asuka froze mid step, nearly falling over. The sudden halt sent Shinji stumbling, and he almost teetered over her, completing the mishap. Yet Asuka didn't notice. Her face hung, almost as if it wished to brush against the pavement. "No, actually. I haven't had any since that night." Asuka's voice was a slight tingle in a symphony of silence.
"I - I'm glad."
"And you?" Asuka asked, managing to pick herself up. Shinji's frown fell even deeper.
"Every night, still."
"Well, then. You just need to be stronger, don't you?"
* * *
Rei watched, silently, trailing discretely behind both the other pilots. She was not sure why, but the fact that Sohryu strode in front of Ikari, screaming out one word directions for him to navigate by displeased her. It reminded Rei very much of the time Ikari, himself, had stated his feelings concerning the commander. Those words had made Rei feel flushed and hot, almost as if a liquid heat were spreading through her pores. She had slapped Ikari for making her feel that.
The entire situation had been - unpleasant.
Was this a similar occurrence, though? Rei could feel those same alien sensations building up within her every time Sohryu shouted. Should she take action against the Second Child? Give life to the sensations?
But Ikari had chosen the Second. He had gone to Sohryu as he did before. It was not her place to supercede that decision. If Sohryu somehow diminished his pain, then leaving it was for the better, yes? Rei silently affirmed her own conclusion, then continued to watch.
Another ten minutes passed. Then, most unexpectedly, Sohryu turned about and retrieved Ikari. She placed her arm through his and began to guide him. It was not a rough, forceful yank, but more of a coaxing pull. As much as she held herself aloof, still forcing some distance between them, Rei could tell that Asuka was stepping carefully. She could see the girl's precision, the planning that was being put into each stride. The shouts that predominated their journey before died to nothing. Rei's face flexed, curling downward, as she watched the scene.
"You don't understand her behavior?" A tiny soft voice lilted from Rei's side, causing her to turn away from the pilots and glance downward. A child stood there. A girl. She was perhaps three or four years old, with smooth powder blue hair and stark red eyes. A small neutral dress completed the image. "Do you?" the child insisted.
Rei allowed her gaze to return to Ikari, mesmerized by his every matched step. "No, I do not."
"That's all right," the child smiled. "Neither does she."
* * *
The hands of the clock shifted, and it was 7:40 am. Hikari Horaki hurried up the thinly populated hallways of Tokyo-3 Middle School, on course for classroom 2A. As she was the class representative, it really would not be acceptable to arrive later than anyone else. Her sister had taught her that part of being effective and respected in this position was to show that you were dedicated to it and those it represented. There was really no way better to do that than being the first on hand and making sure that all was prepared for the teacher, the students, and the day's activities.
Of course, Hikari had also agreed to meet Toji and Kensuke this morning, in the hopes that they could further discuss the situation concerning Shinji. No real consensus had been reached among them following their encounter with Rei and her warning not to attempt to contact or visit him. The fear of possibility was bursting outward within the imaginations of her two friends, conjuring horrific maladies and injuries that threatened Shinji's very existence. Today's talks were going to put an end to that, hopefully. Hikari knew that she was going to advise them to put all else aside, and simply act upon their emotions. And if their concern carried them to the nearest phone booth or Major Katsuragi's apartment, well, so be it. She could not conceive of a situation in which people that cared for you could be a detriment.
The hallway echoed with a smattering of clacks as her shoes struck the worn tiles. Hikari eased her trot to a light walk, then stopped completely. A small square block stuck obtrusively out from the wall, proclaiming this to be the entrance to classroom 2A. A quick glance at her watch told Hikari that she had arrived in plenty of time for both her duties and her meeting. There was no way those two perpetual latecomers would ever arrive this early, even if prearranged. It just wasn't within their capabilities.
Hikari stepped through the portal of brick and ivy paint.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly open at the sight within. Sitting in his customary seat, with arms folded and chin propped and Asuka dangling about the desk just to the fore of him, was Shinji Ikari. Hikari couldn't quite believe it. He looked the same, dressed in the usual school uniform with the collar carelessly undone and tossed aside. His face seemed hale, though his posture was sagged and uncomfortable. That was normal for Shinji, however. The boy looked healthy. What could Ayanami have been talking about?
Shinji stirred then, and picked up his head. It shifted slightly, turning in Hikari's direction, then passing by her completely. Another slow turn brought a set of blue eyes to bear upon her. Hikari gasped despite herself, then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Asuka, who's there?" Shinji questioned his sprawling companion. His eyes narrowed, straining as if they wished to grab hold of Hikari and never let go. It was an unnerving sensation, being subjected to this disturbed scrutiny.
"It's Hikari," Asuka said, picking her body up and repositioning herself upon the chair. "Good morning, Hikari," she called out.
"Good morning, class rep," Shinji added, then returned to his embrace of the desk.
"Good - good morning, Asuka. Shinji," Hikari managed. Swallowing her anxiety, Hikari pushed herself further into the classroom, around a bend of desks and to her own. She dropped her bag upon it, then stepped up to the pair of pilots. "I'm glad you're both finally back in school." It was all she could come up with. Everything intelligent, understanding, or supportive had packed a day bag and sped away.
Asuka sighed heavily, then slapped Shinji on the back. "Come on, Shinji. Hikari wants to know what happened, she just can't get the words out. It's not proper to pry after all. Come on, already," she insisted again with a poke. "You can just sit there if you like. I'll tell the story."
Hikari grabbed hold of Asuka's shoulder and pulled her away from Shinji. "Is this what you meant the other day that he had been injured?" she hissed into the girl's ear. "You said he got what he deserved. Can he see, Asuka? Can he?" The last word burst from Hikari, a tangible fact of her anger.
"No, he can't," Asuka snapped. "And get your hand off my shoulder!" She swatted Hikari away, forcing the girl back a step. "Now do you want to hear or not?"
Any further explanation was disrupted however, as two more students stumbled into the classroom. "I'm sorry we're late, class rep!" they shouted near to unison, then stopped. It took a brief, tiny moment of recognition before they exploded. "Shinji!" Toji and Kensuke chorused, dropping their bags and rushing over to his desk.
"Hold it right there, you two," Asuka commanded before they could start slapping Shinji on the back or any other ridiculous form of male greeting.
"Hi, Toji. Kensuke." A wisp of a smile stretched Shinji's face. He didn't notice their mouths go slack. Toji, of course, managed to regain his ability of expression quickly.
"What the hell's going on here? Shinji, are you alright?" His voiced pounded through the room and out into the hallway. Idle straggling students suddenly accelerated their pace and entered the classroom. In less than half a minute a sizable crowd was forming around Shinji's desk, bringing with it a speculative din.
Hikari tried her best to push the crowd back, to create space. Shinji had begun to curl up in his desk, almost pulling his body into a compact knob that rested upon the chair. They wouldn't budge though. Morbid curiosity overpowered her efforts. Still, she wasn't class representative for nothing. Hikari knew she would just have to stop being nice about it.
Asuka, however, beat her to it.
The redhead launched herself to her feet, straddling the desk chair and roared. "Shut the hell up, all of you!" The wave of heat and rage that carried through her voice decimated any conversation among the crowd and left it staring dumbly at her. "You will all sit down, keep your mouths shut, and listen to me! You understand? Because this is only going to be said once."
Everyone dropped into a seat.
* * *
Misato thrust the paper back onto her desk, scattering a stack of others and dislodging the pen settled in the crook of her fingers. The small constant rattle made as the pen struck the floor and rolled beneath her desk seemed to pile on her shoulders and rap against her head. She decided to sag into her chair and find comfort in the well-shaped indentations of its upholstery.
This was just ridiculous. Misato could not concentrate worth a damn. Every time she went to do something, every time she went to sign off on one of those mounting forms her mind took a sudden u-turn and retraced its steps. And she had been over it all already. There wasn't really anything more to consider. She had her opinion on the matter, but that did not change anything one bit. She was going to have to live with the situation, and learn to put her worries aside. It made sense; it was a very logical progression of thought.
So, why then, was it so damned hard to do?
Misato slumped further, tempted to start banging her head against the edge of her paneled desk.
"If you're planning on bloodying that desk, at least let me go and get some towels."
Misato glanced up and scowled at the woman standing in her doorway. She didn't like the smug grin stretching the woman's face, nor the satisfied way in which she leant against the doorframe. All this could mean only thing: that she had the upper hand on Misato in something. "Ha, ha, Ritsu," Misato said. "Maybe you'd like to join me though?" She swept a hand toward her desk.
"No, thank you. But perhaps you'd like to tell me what's bothering you, Misato? You've been moping around all morning long, and now I find you poised for self-mutilation. Something has to be wrong."
"You analyze way too much, doctor," Misato grumbled. She bent over and began feeling about the floor for her run away pen.
"I don't think so," Ritsuko countered. "You're worried about Shinji today, aren't you?"
"And is there something the matter with that?" Misato returned the challenge. Her fingers graced a slim tube and she seized upon it, then swung it back up to her jacket and tucked the pen away.
"There's nothing wrong with worrying, per se. If, however, it causes your attention to scatter and interferes with your job, then yes, it is a problem," Ritsuko stated, settling herself on the lone clean edge of Misato's desk.
"Aw, come on, Ritsu. You know this sending Shinji to school is a joke."
The blonde haired scientist shrugged. "The psyche department doesn't seem to think so."
Misato snorted. "I can understand and support their point about spending time with his friends. But what about all the others there? You know Shinji. He's a timid person. Sending him back in the state he's in now is like breaking his arms, kicking him off the boat, and telling him to swim to shore. Factor in everything that's been happening to Asuka lately, and I just do not consider it a healthy situation for him."
Ritsuko nodded at the mention of Asuka's plight. "Yes, I was reading about Asuka's difficulties in your report."
"So you know what I'm driving at, then?" Misato asked, a bit of the tension easing from her face.
"Yes," Ritsuko said. Misato only just stalled herself from clapping. "But," the doctor added, "I don't agree with it."
"What?" Any sudden lapse in the tension that was twisting in Misato's shoulders returned, ticketed to work overtime.
"Look, Misato," Ritsuko began, hopping off of the major's desk. "If it were possible that the children were in any real danger they would not be in school now. Just try and relax." Ritsuko gave Misato a brief smile, then slipped through the doorway, a fading sensation of flapping white.
"If they're so safe, doctor," Misato's voice ground, "then why can't Shinji see now?"
* * *
It had been stupid of him, really. Shinji knew that had things been normal, even after being unexpectedly sent to school, he would have never forgotten to whip together lunches for Asuka and himself. But he had, and so failed. And now here he was, deposited by Hikari, Asuka, Toji, and Kensuke beneath one of the courtyard's several trees while they went back inside to retrieve some of the school lunches for the both of them.
Shinji shifted, and pushed his back up against the tree. The bark roughed his shirt and teased his flesh with an odd uneven rub. At least that felt right. The sun too. He could feel the wind it warmed as the breezes rolled through the courtyard and beneath his tree. The sensations as the wind slipped over you conjured nothing but pleasant feelings.
At least it would have.
Shinji, however, found himself shielded from this pleasure. His mind, sparked by regret over his mishap with the lunches, decided instead to focus upon everything that surrounded him. He studied the fading shades of black and gray that processed before his eyes in a march of oblong lumps and bumps that both shrunk and towered from one moment to another. This was his prison, now. A world bereft of color and light.
Shinji remembered his dreams. He suddenly saw the calm coaxing face of his mother. It hung in front of him, whispering, reminding him of all she had told him. Those words, they bunched within Shinji's heart. He would be no good to them, he remembered his mother telling him. He could no longer serve any purpose. Without his eyes, his father had no use for him. He was a hindrance, a bother now. So long as he was within these dark walls no one associated with NERV could even care about his presence. All he did was pull them down.
And Shinji remembered her promise. His mother had smiled, had held him close to her, and told him it was time for him to leave his father. She had promised that if he came to her, if he left this all behind, then she could give him his eyes back. Together, they would be able to enjoy everything he was missing now.
He had almost agreed right then. And perhaps he should have. Nothing here was right, not now. Toji and Kensuke seemed wary of him somehow. Almost as if they ventured too close he might fracture and tumble into a thousand pieces. Shinji could only find tiny slivers of what once shone between the three of them, what made him comfortable around them. His prison seemed all the darker for it.
"Hey you, Ikari." A voice. It was a falling tone, steadily losing pitch on its way to maturity. Shinji stiffened, thrusting his back painfully upward over the bark. "Look at the Eva pilot," the voice sneered.
"Not so great now, huh?" Another voice, this one slightly higher in tone. Shinji's head spun trying to track it.
"Doesn't look very mighty to me," a third voice noted. "Doesn't look like the lord of the land." Shinji didn't bother to take detailed notice of this one. He moved slightly, hoping to free himself of the tree and scramble backwards. He was sure that all three were in front of him. "Nope, doesn't look untouchable anymore."
"Hey! Not so fast, Ikari." Shinji felt his progress jerked to halt. The front of his shirt was clenched, being yanked forward. He was wrenched to his feet, and a hot sour breath slid across his face. Shinji made a vain effort of struggling. "No, no," the first voiced admonished him. "You're not leaving yet. The three of us have something we want to discuss with you first."
Suddenly he was falling, the force behind his elevation disappearing. Shinji hit the ground, and rolled over, trying to prop himself back up. He didn't the get the chance though. A foot impacted with his side, eliciting a sudden blossom of pain. Then a second and a third. Another caught his leg. Shinji tried to roll away, tried to curl up, but the blows kept landing. He was quickly gasping, groaning, trying in any way to give vent to the fire that was consuming his body.
"What's the matter?" one of the voices taunted. "Can't see what's coming?"
Shinji couldn't bring himself to respond. The quiet rumble of the gathering crowd was slapping at the pain in his head like a perpetual oar. It didn't matter much anyway, the voices weren't looking for a response. Besides, maybe it was better like this. Maybe his mother was right.
Shinji yelped as he was forced to stand again. It was the same one, that same sticky exhalation struck his chin and cheek. He let himself go slack, ready to accept the next blow.
It didn't come, however. The world, the air, everything around him seemed to freeze for a moment, it's attention suddenly shifted away. Then a fourth voice. This one hard, yet blazing with deadly fury.
"Put him down, and prepare to die."
Asuka.
And Shinji hit the ground once again.
* * *
Toji threw his lunch tray to the grass, and prepared to hurl himself through the crowd and into the fray. He wouldn't let those bastards get away with attacking Shinji, especially considering the shape he was in. It was cowardly to do such a thing. It you had a problem with somebody, then damnit, you should confront him about it. Man to man. Just as he and Shinji had done.
Asuka had already engaged, faster than Toji would have thought she might. It had seemed most likely to him that she would debate with herself for a bit, before indulging in the small pleasure of dolling out some pain. In her twisted psyche, that was probably reason enough to allow herself to be seen helping a known 'pathetic pervert.'
Hell, maybe NERV had some sort of policy that required its pilots to aid one another?
One leg launched forward while the other hung back, gripping the turf, ready to push off and propel Toji forward in an explosion of action. He didn't make it, though. Just as he was about to thrust into the crowd, a hand found his arm and wrenched it back hard. Toji jerked to a halt, first stunned, then spinning around to find out who in the name of all hell would be trying to stop him from helping Shinji. That person, he knew, would come to know the ground real fast.
Hikari, however, stood in front of him.
The sight of the class rep grasping him like a tether froze the heated flush on Toji's face. He wanted to yell, he wanted to throw her off, but could not. This - this was the class rep. He would not force a confrontation with her to get free. And yet, Toji found himself wincing as her slender fingers pressed deeper into the flesh of his forearm. She might actually be able to handle herself if such a situation did occur.
"Let me go, class rep!" Toji assailed her. "I need to help."
Hikari shook her head slightly, her pigtails swaying in a soft sideways dance. "You shouldn't. Let Asuka handle it."
"Asuka?" Toji's face wrinkled into a mass of incredulity. "Asuka can't use one of her arms, Hikari. I know she's strong, but those are three guys out there, and she's just, well, a girl."
The fingers strangling his arm tightened. Toji ground his teeth, staunchly refusing to even gasp. "This is something Asuka needs to do. Please, Suzuhara. Have faith in her." A derisive snort proclaimed Toji's opinion on that matter. Hikari tried again. "If not that, then can you at least trust me?"
Much like her hand, Hikari's eyes latched onto Toji and stilled him. He tried to pull away, to ignore them, but their earnest plea forced itself through his barriers. His shoulders slumped. "Alright, class rep. Have it your way. But if it looks like things are starting to get out of hand, I'm jumping in. Got that?"
Hikari assented. "Of course. I wouldn't expect less of you, Suzuhara." Her fingers relaxed their pressure, but did not fall from his arm. The pair turned, wedged into the crowd, and watched Asuka's defense of Shinji.
It was over in a matter of minutes.
The first boy sat slumped against the tree holding his nose and trying to contain the heavy flow of blood that was threatening to completely dye his shirt. The second boy was simply huddled upon the ground, rolling away from his own vomit, and pulling all his limbs inward in some kind of protective fencing about his groin. The third was on his back and thrashing, long yelps and fiery cries snapping from his mouth every few seconds. His hands kept threatening to go near his knee, but they would pull back from the oddly positioned joint with each new convulsion.
Asuka spared them a glance, then swung away and knelt by Shinji. She forced some drenched, displaced hair from its current grasp of her face, and helped to ease him into a squat. "Idiot," she told the bruised boy, "I thought I told you to just sit here."
* * *
As the crowd around the fight parted, so did Rei. Still, while being swept up in the mass of movement, Rei managed to keep herself squarely positioned within line-of-sight of both Ikari and Sohryu. A group of five stiffly attired teachers made their way through the sudden corridor, then separated, three heading toward the still suffering boys, and two approaching the pilots.
Rei's eyes wandered over the scene, recording all of its various facets and circumstances. One of the two teachers who had taken position near Ikari knelt by the boy and began to speak softly to him. The other seized Sohryu by the wrist and yanked, pulling the girl to her feet. That teacher's face displayed something through its contortions. It took Rei a moment to realize it, but she had seen that something many times on Sohryu's own features. The teacher was angry.
Rei flicked her gaze to Asuka. She had assumed that Sohryu would return the attitude of her captor. From what she had been able to gather from experience with the Second Child, Rei knew that Sohryu did not express contentment with being handled by others. And yet, Sohryu seemed undisturbed by her treatment. The corners of the girl's mouth were slightly upraised and her head was held high and firm. Sohryu offered no protest as she was forced away from the scene. She appeared to be - to be -
"Satisfied?" a small voice offered from her side.
Rei nodded to the child who stood next to her. Satisfied was an appropriate definition of the apparent emotion. But why should satisfaction prevail upon Sohryu? She had violated the school's code of conduct, and placed herself in a position of reprimand. "Was it because she was allowed to fight?" The words escaped Rei, hardly breaking free of the girl's stillness.
The child paused. "One could think that," she then stated. "But is it what you consider truth?"
"I do not know," Rei admitted. "I am - unfamiliar with such things."
The child reached up, pulling on Rei's hand until she was forced to kneel. One set of red pools found another. "You do understand such things," the child emphasized. "What did you feel when those boys attacked Ikari?"
Rei blinked. Feel? Did the child not understand? She was not the same as the others. "I cannot answer that."
For a moment the child's face scrunched up. It seemed as if thoughts were tumbling about her tiny head, falling over one another until they reached a pattern and began to build. "What did you wish to do when Ikari was attacked?"
What did she wish to do? Was the child requesting a clarification of her orders? No. Wish implied a personal goal of some kind. What did she wish to do? "I," Rei began, then paused. She paid no attention to the crowd that dispersed around her, no attention to the bodies that bumped and banged her. "I - I wished to aid Ikari," she finally said.
The child nodded. "As did Sohryu. Now, tell me, would you have not felt satisfaction if you had successfully aided Ikari?"
Something flashed in Rei's mind. An image. The angel. She had given herself up to protect Ikari. He had raced for her, reached for her, pulling open the entry plug. He had - cared for her. She had protected him, and in turn he wanted to protect her. Ikari had asked her to smile. Rei's mouth twitched, then settled. It was no longer standing static. "Yes," Rei admitted, " I would be satisfied with such a performance."
The child smiled back. "And you think you do not understand human beings? And you think yourself less than them?"
* * *
"Really, Maya, this was some spectacular work. You even bested my expectations when I assigned the upgrade work to you."
Lieutenant Maya Ibuki sat stock still in her chair. She could feel the warmth of a blush invading every portion of her face, and prayed that the distance between her and Dr. Akagi's desk was significant enough that it wouldn't be too noticeable. "Thank you, Dr. Akagi. But really, you don't need to say such things. You brought me up to this level."
"Nonsense, Maya." Ritsuko admonished her with a wave of the performance report. "I only had to correct fourteen lines of code in the entire body of work. That's amazing considering their extremely complex nature, and it's more than I could teach anyone. It might even be better than I could have pulled off at your age. What it definitely was, Maya, was a concrete display of your own talent and abilities."
Maya bowed her head a little further and snatched a small porcelain cat from atop Ritsuko's desk. She twirled the sleek white feline in her fingers, searching out every curve and depression. "Thank you, Dr. Akagi," she stuttered again.
"Stop thanking me already, Maya." Ritsuko rolled her eyes. "But prepare yourself. I've been looking for someone competent who could assist me in the scientific division, and if I bring your work to the commanders' attention I should be able to pry you off that bridge once and for all. Bigger and better things, Maya. Bigger and better things."
The blush dropped from Maya's face. "I understand." She began to turn in her seat, staring in at Dr. Akagi who was busily thrusting papers away in preparation for heading to the bridge. "When do you plan on testing the Magi upgrade's abilities, Doctor Akagi?"
"I'm not sure yet," Ritsuko's voice floated up from beneath the desk as she struggled to close one of its lower drawers. "I have to discuss the options with Commander Ikari." The drawer finally clapped shut, and Ritsuko reappeared. "Are you ready to go?"
"Before we leave, may I ask you one more question?" Maya ventured. She rose somewhat shakily from her desk, and found the blush returning to her cheeks. Ritsuko stared at her for a long moment, scanning her, making Maya feel as if she should have said nothing.
"All right," Ritsuko finally decided. "What is it that you want to know, Maya?"
"Those protocols, that the new code helped to create, well, why do the MAGI need to be able to predict human behavior within a ninety percent accuracy rating? The angels aren't human. Shouldn't we be devoting more research time to discovering patterns in their behavior?"
Ritsuko smiled thinly. "Don't worry about the tactics, Maya. As you know our best defense against the angels is having the children synched as highly as possible with their Eva's. What we've just completed is a purely scientific venture. Nothing more."
* * *
Misato stared at her cell phone. The small black unit lay upon her desk, nestled between several stacks of papers, and refused to ring. It just would not cooperate. Not only had she asked Shinji and Asuka to give her a call during their lunch break, which had ended about twenty minutes ago, she was also expecting a ring from Kaji.
Misato hated sitting on her hands. All she wanted was a smidgen of information from both fronts. Word of what was going on would be preferable. She wanted to be able to relax. Misato wanted to know that Shinji and Asuka weren't having any problems. She wanted to know that Kaji hadn't taken off to Germany on only the scantest of leads, and that he was actually contributing something useful to the situation.
"He better damn well come back with something useful," Misato grumbled to herself, eyes refusing to leave the phone. The message he left on the answering machine had been entirely unhelpful, though even Misato didn't expect him to explicitly state what his intentions were. Not with a monitor on their lines. A hint would have been nice, though. But no, instead all she got was a 'be a good girl until I get back' message.
Misato kicked her trashcan across the office.
Stupid damn phones. Always ringing when you don't want them to and never when you do.
There had been an end to that message too, but most of it had been cut off by the machine. What bothered Misato most was that Kaji had sounded genuinely worried when he started to speak. There had been something he wanted to say to her, something that he wanted to warn her about.
Misato chewed her lip. Damnit, she needed another trashcan.
Then the phone promptly rung.
Misato dove forward, practically falling from her chair. Her fingers whisked the cell phone from her desk, taking a full stack of papers with it, and sailed it to her ear. "Yes?" The ringing continued, however, forcing her eyes to the blocky rotary that sat atop the desk. Misato twitched, then tossed the cell back to its previous place of rest.
"Hello," she stated, pulling the receiver to her ear. "Yes, this is she." One. Two. Three. Four blinks. Then, "What?!"
* * *
And the clock changed. It was 6:30 am.
Kaji emptied the last of the brandy into his mouth, swished it about, and then promptly spit into a sytrofoam cup. Both cup and bottle then took up residence upon the beige carpeting of his rented sedan. It hadn't taken him long to arrive at this point. The second branch had been entirely unaware of his actions, simply allowing him access to their compound after a swipe of his identification card. One secluded terminal after that and bingo: he had managed to worm his way into personnel files concerning the newly transfered Alpha rotation. Names, addressess, family information: alot of what Kaji had needed to confirm some guesses had been right there.
Now, it was just a matter of waiting.
Kaji twisted himself slightly, readjusting his position behind the wheel, then continued to stare out the window. It was a nice neighborhood. From the paving stone street to the authentic town houses to the newly added and greening trees that lined the roadway, everything was manicured and pretty. As morning rose the sky was beginning to blue, and you could take a good look at the far off mountains that loomed just over the peaks of the houses.
There was something dark hiding among all the beauty, though. The snake of this paradise, Kaji mused. Well, one of them at least. A whole nest was lying somewhere near here, and it would serve him best to avoid stepping directly into it.
To his right, one of the townhouses opened, spilling forth a boy. He looked to be about fifteen, and was definitely Japanese, Kaji noted. His hair was a wild length of black, and he wore a loose jogging suit. Still, Kaji had memorized the photograph, both from the database at the children's school and Schreiner's own recently admitted file. His double check had left no doubt. This was his man.
The boy turned and swung the door shut behind him. He skipped down a few slate steps, legs already pumping in a familiar rhythm, and paced out of the front yard and onto the street. Kaji stepped from his car, and adjusted his blazer around the shoulder holster hidden beneath its black folds. It wouldn't due at all to get pulled aside by the local police before he was able to make contact with his target.
Kaji took off at a brisk walk.
He followed the boy for several blocks, before his target turned into a sparsely-populated commercial avenue. The street was crowded on each side with a variety of stumpy buildings just beginning their daily stirrings. Kaji increased his stride.
"My, oh my," Kaji said, having matched the boy's deliberate pace. They had moved down the avenue, passing by the most consistent of the thinly gathering crowds. Kaji knew there would be no better opportunity. The pistol flew free from its holster and he pressed it to the boy's back. "You're looking quite spry for someone reported dead, my friend."
The boy snapped straight, as if suddenly transformed from flesh to sculpture. "What do you want?" His voice slipped out, high and ready to fracture. Kaji dropped a hand upon one hunched shoulder and pushed the boy toward the side of the road.
"Into the alleyway, if you wouldn't mind." They moved forward, disappearing into a narrow street, fortified by walls of brick on each side. The back doors of a few shops adorned the red-faced masonry, as well a few lines of garbage cans at each of the stoops. "Now," Kaji said. "Take three long strides forward, and don't turn around. I know all about you, Azuma Matsushita. So please, keep still. No lunging or running."
"What do you want?" Azuma tried again, complying with Kaji's demands.
"Well, you're Azuma Matsushita. Son of Wakaba Matsushita, a member of Section-2's erstwhile Alpha rotation."
"You're from NERV?"
"Assume what you wish," Kaji smiled. "But what I would like to know is how the son of a Section-2 agent can attack two of the only three Evangelion pilots, survive the experience, and then suddenly find himself, his father, and his father's co-workers relocated to another country not two days after the incident. Do you think you could explain that, Azuma?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Azuma protested. Kaji cocked his pistol. The sharp click bounded heavily within the narrow alley.
"Please, don't lie," Kaji instructed the boy. The usual constant humor that he spoke with abandoned him, leaving his voice direct and unpleasant. "Three people's lives depend on your answers. Only two of those concern me."
"Alright, alright!" Azuma legs were buckling, almost as if he hoped that by dropping Kaji might somehow miss him. "I'm a sharpshooter. Registered and everything. My father taught me how. One day, about three weeks ago, my father told me that he needed my help in a mission. I agreed, I couldn't deny him."
"Go on," Kaji advised.
"He told me I would have two targets to intercept: a male and a female about my age. The Eva pilots. I was to open fire on them after making a show of my disgust with them and their status. It was an easy cover. A lot of people resent them. The girl was supposed to be hit twice in non-critical areas. The boy I was to hit in the temple."
"You were supposed to shoot him in the head?" Kaji could feel his finger tightening on the trigger.
"No, no!" Azuma protested. "I was supposed to graze his temple, just enough so that he would be shocked and bloodied."
"Tell me, Azuma. Could your shot have damaged the boy enough to cause him to lose his sight?"
"I don't know. I'm not a doctor."
"Think!" Kaji snarled.
"I - I don't think so. I'm confident in my shot. I've been hitting bulls-eyes since I was six. Injuring the boy in any critical way was not in the mission scenario."
"Do you know why you're father asked you to do this?"
"No. He asked, and I followed orders. It's always been like that."
Kaji nodded, then took three quick steps and whipped the butt of the pistol across the boy's head. Azuma collapsed instantly, a sudden pile of gray linen and hair. Kaji knelt and slipped two fingers across the boy's wrist, searching a few seconds before he found a pulse and nodded in satisfaction. The pistol then quickly found itself back inside the shoulder holster, and Kaji picked Azuma up and carried him to a neat row of garbage cans. He scanned the door that waited just above the cans, and finally satisfied that no one would amble out at an inopportune moment, dumped the boy behind them. Kaji quickly rearranged the metal bins, crowding them together so that all the cracks in between were filled.
He then buttoned his jacket, and strolled out of the alleyway.
NERV was involved.
The question of course, when considering anything done by that agency, was why?
[End Part 5]
End Notes: Many thanks go to my prereaders: Kyo Tetsuei, Melody Rayearth, Skull-leader,
and Kekkonen. Thanks also go out to the folks on the EFML for their thoughts on the
piece.
Author's Notes: Yes, I am slow. Sorry about that folks, but life intervenes. I'm still trying to be relatively quick about producing part six, but I would rather have something worthwhile come out of a long period of inactivity than something not so good from a glut rush. As always, comments and criticism are always welcome. I can be contacted at ziggymd24@yahoo.com. Previous parts of this series can be found at members.aol.com/doc7dmz. My new webpage is currently out of order. Okay, enough babbling on my part. Here's the story.
"Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child, shivers in the cold,
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold"
- From 'Do You Hear What I Hear,' original words and music by Noel Regney & Gloria Shayne.
Blue. Yellow. White. Green. Red.
The colors flared to life, disrupting the darkness and spilling their ambience over one another. The room's heavy, lazy atmosphere found itself being pushed away, forced to rise to its haunches and move outward. Those five glows settled into one another, solidifying a ring of light, and waited for the conference to begin.
White.
Another light blossomed opposite its counterpart, and nestled between the shoulders of blue and red. Its occupant sat comfortably, a picture of smooth yet utter control. A pair of gloved hands supported his face and disguised his mouth, while a set of dark lensed wire-rims concealed his eyes. He was effectively hidden from them, an impenetrable enigma behind a friendly facade. Still, the effort had to be made.
"Ikari." White spoke, forcing a dry decaying voice to projection. "We have been made aware of a disturbing situation concerning the Third Child. Why did you not report that the pilot of Unit-1 suffered injuries resulting in blindness?" The Committee waited, but not a movement, a glimmer of betrayal. Only his voice, never wavering for a moment, appeared from beneath the man's hands.
"It was not necessary to report the situation," Gendo stated.
"So you assume," Yellow accused the commander.
"I am merely relating the facts," Gendo reassured them. "The Third Child was injured during a practice sortie. He is suffering from flash blindness, a temporary affliction that will be gone by the time the next angel appears."
"You cannot be sure of such a thing, Ikari," Green said.
"You risk our success upon your own whim," Red added, accentuating the point.
Gendo remained placid but for a single eyebrow that rose. "You question the schedule then?"
"No." White spoke before any other, and knew that he was representative of the committee. "The predictions are accurate and will continue to be so. But the point is valid, Ikari, that you gamble where no money should be placed."
"Chairman, I gamble on nothing. The Third Child will be recovered in time to intercept the next angel. Doctor Akagi is currently assisting the recovery process through drug therapy. The boy, and Unit-01, will respond when called upon."
"Very well," Blue conceded.
"We shall trust you on this," Yellow noted.
"But tell us, Ikari," White spoke again, silencing the other committee members, "there is no truth to the rumor that the Second and Third children suffered their injuries during a personal attack?" There was little point in asking the question, White knew. Whether it bore any part of truth or not, Ikari would not betray that fact. As it was for them, it was for him. The distinction between truth and lie did not exist.
"No. Both were sustained during the practice sortie. It was - unfortunate, but easily dealt with. Perhaps you should re-evaluate your agents, Chairman. If they cannot even present you with accurate information on such an open topic then they are not worth employing."
White frowned, the lines of his aging face folding together and overlapping. "Perhaps, Ikari. Perhaps."
Blue. Yellow. White. Green. Red. They all collapsed in on themselves, fading away and snapping the circuit of light. Darkness grasped the permission given it, and hauled itself back into the vacated areas. Still, it could not yet reclaim all of the room. One lone light still pestered its existence.
Gendo Ikari straightened, unfolded his hands, and picked the phone up from its hook. "Fuyutsuki," he stated. "Notify Rei."
* * *
It was an average hotel room, the dime-a-dozen kind with the stiff chocolate brown carpeting and pale cream painted walls. It was longer than wide, and held an entire wall full of windows at its outside end. The thick drapes were pulled firmly shut, allowing only the warm yellow light of two table lamps to permeate the room. The television was switched off, and the tiny clock radio emitted not a single word or note.
A single painting hung from one wall, a boil of flat contrasting color upon the room's static coat. Upon the canvas a girl knelt in a mess of dirt, surrounded by elements that raged out of control. Fire leapt to her right, brown specks of insects swarmed to her left, and in the distance a great brutal tidal wave threatened to swamp the shore. And yet she seemed peaceful, content almost to be hugging a boy to her dirty white shroud, to have her hand gently covering his eyes. 'Release,' the small plaque on its frame stated.
Just below this painting stood a full bed, and its lone occupant rolled slightly under the covers. She was a younger woman, perhaps 27 years old, whose length of blonde hair splayed wildly as she moved, obscuring her full soft face. The woman eventually settled, and soon silence returned to the room.
But it was not complete.
Swift sharp clicks emanated from the left of the bed, sounding off and rolling towards its foot. A desk was placed there, all cheap wood and lacquer; a pleasing piece, if less than sturdy. Finally, stationed at this example of economy was a man, a man whose long hair was tied into a pony tail and left to fall gracelessly down a bare back. Kaji rubbed his chin, scratching at the wash of stiff bristle there, then let his fingers once again attack the keyboard of the laptop.
'A-d-l-e-r-,-I-l-s-e.'
A quick strike of the 'enter' key and his pinky returned to the set position. He waited as the PC hummed and the icon churned, then was rewarded when a query box subsumed the screen.
'Name verified,' it stated. 'Password please.'
Kaji glanced back at the woman on the bed, and allowed himself a small smile. His fingers flexed, and once again he was typing.
'0-0-7.' A hard return.
A red heraldic shield appeared on the screen, and was quickly overlapped by the pale creases of an unfolding scroll. 'Schreiner Academy,' the computer screen read. 'Administrative Interface.' Kaji thumbed the mouse over the screen, stopping at the long menu that resided at the top. A quick double click and he was soon faced with, 'Student Registry.'
Kaji's smile widened.
"From all Corners They Cried"
An Evangelion Fanfic
By Dave Ziegler
Part 5: 'Seven Days Hence/From Morning till Midday'
Version 5.0
Telephones were created by sadists. There was no other explanation for it.
Misato Katsuragi let herself lay on the floor of her bedroom for a few moments longer, contemplating dark and destructive thoughts, and ignored the insistent ring that was disturbing everything. Finally, she kicked herself free of the blankets, swearing to herself that she would later find a very large and very therapeutic hammer, and picked up the phone.
"Hello," she slurred as the receiver came to rest upon her cheek. She leaned back against the side of her bed, and allowed her eyes to happily slide closed. It just wasn't right, waking someone up this early in the morning. The day wasn't supposed to start till seven, eight if she could help it. But six? That was just cruel. The only thing that could ever rouse her at this hour was NERV.
NERV.
Misato's shoulders suddenly clenched, and her back wrenched itself straight and away from her bed. The voice on the other end allowed for no inattention, and it forced itself through Misato's still sleepy state and hit every light switch her mind possessed.
"Yes, sir," Misato said, nodding to herself. "Yes, sir. Yes, I understand completely. I will alert the children immediately."
She placed the phone back onto its hook, and stared at it for a few moments, as if not quite sure what to make of it. Then her lips suddenly thinned, and her face turned down. Misato picked herself up off the floor, pushed the blanket beneath her bed, and stiffly exited her room.
The rest of the apartment was quiet, still: the perfect picture of a calm, ordinary early morning. It was the kind of scene she loved, a symbol that perhaps her dreams were not so far from fruition after all. Like her sleep, it did not deserve to be destroyed, but the choice had been taken from her. Misato sucked in a long breath, then bellowed, "Asuka! Shinji! Wake up now!"
They never did last.
* * *
"Are they insane?!"
Asuka's fist slapped against the table top, rattling the motley collection of breakfast dishes and causing the corner of Misato's mouth to twitch. In all honesty, she had been expecting an explosion of some sort from Asuka following this revelation. Ever since the accident her charge had been more temperamental than usual, snapping at her for even the smallest of comments. Couple that with the fact that she had been acting civil toward Shinji the past three days, and, well, a statement of this magnitude would very likely be the catalyst for an eruption. Expected or not, though, screaming wasn't going to help matters any.
"Quite frankly, I agree with you, Asuka," Misato stated, toying with the tab of her beer can. "I don't think this is an appropriate time to be sending Shinji back to school. In fact, I would be quite happy if he could just stay home until Ritsuko's medication starts taking affect. But the commanders have ordered that he return to school starting today, so that's what is going to happen."
Asuka spared a glance for Shinji, who slumped in his chair, letting the food in front of him stand idle. Her gaze swung back to Misato. "And you went along with this that easily? How could you, Misato? He's not going to be able to function in school like this! I mean, hell, he won't even be able to see the blackboard, much less take notes."
"I don't think academics are the foremost concern at the moment, Asuka. Besides, I don't remember either of you exactly over working yourselves trying to keep up with your teacher before. Why should that change now? In any case," Misato continued, "the reason he's being sent back is because the psych department thinks it will help him to be around his friends."
"Oh yeah," Asuka snorted around a mouthful of tea. "They think the other two stooges are somehow going to keep him from moping around like a terminal patient? Don't count on it."
Misato bit the inside of her cheek. It was a bad habit really, but something she had done ever since college to force her mouth shut when what wanted to come out really wouldn't help all that much. She indulged in a moment of deep, full breathing, then resituated her sights upon the scowling German girl. "Not only Aida and Suzuhara, Asuka. Though their presence will help too. There's also Rei, that Horaki girl, you," she stressed, jabbing a finger toward Asuka, "and all your other classmates."
Shinji shifted slightly in the chair, his head still downcast, lolling toward the table's surface. It bothered Misato that he hadn't ventured an opinion on this, even a tiny protest. Perhaps that meant the psych department was right. Maybe he did need more of his peers helping him through this. Maybe she wasn't enough for him.
"If you think that any of our other classmates spare idiot here two seconds, or that he makes any attempt to talk to them, Misato, then you are really out of touch. Besides, as you well know, not all of our classmates are the naturally helpful sort."
Misato's jaw locked as her eyes forced themselves to the bruises on Asuka's forearms and across her chin. The last three days at school had been hell for her. Word of her injured shoulder and bound arm had spread through the school, drawing a number of malcontents and opportunistic bullies from their hiding holes. It had started out of the first day as shoves during the lunch break and gym activities. They were always from the behind though, a fleeting harassment so that Asuka could not pinpoint anyone for retribution. The second day had turned loose some open sneers and verbal assaults as these other children felt more bold from their previous success. Finally, come the third day, Asuka found herself grabbed from behind while proceeding to lunch with her friends, and propelled forward in a mad tumble down the stairwell. She had been lucky that she remained relatively uninjured from the fall.
And, of course, no one had seen anything. So the crime went unpunished.
"He won't be able to get around, much less protect himself from all those pathetic cowards," Asuka continued. "Didn't you tell them any of this? Didn't you put any of it in your reports?" Asuka's free arm tensed on the table top, looking as if it were getting ready to catapult her cross the surface and at Misato.
"The commanders were privy to all relevant information, and this was the decision they came to. I can't do anything about it, Asuka."
"Coward," Asuka sniffed, raising her head and setting her chin. "Are you afraid to fight?"
Misato spun around in her chair and yanked the kitchen phone from its cradle. Her thumb passed over the 'on' button, and the small matte unit suddenly found itself being proffered to Asuka. "Would you like to give it a try, Asuka? Here's the phone. Speed dial six for the commander's office." Misato's grin was lopsided and tight, a display of stiff pressured teeth.
Asuka focused on the receiver for a moment, her mouth working but not quite forming any words. Her eyes swept across its surface, striking back and forth in an unbelieving panic. Misato couldn't help but enjoy every single moment of it. Finally though, the girl's face firmed and she returned to her previous stance. "I don't need to do anything," she declared. "It's not my problem, and it's not my job."
"And you know as well as I do that arguing with the commander will get you nowhere very fast," Misato stated. Asuka simply disregarded the major and ambushed her tea instead. Well, it was a better result than yet another continuation to the argument. Misato shifted Asuka aside for the moment, and concentrated on Shinji.
"Shinji," she asked, "what do you think of all this?"
The boy stirred, picking his head up and centering his face toward the direction of Misato's voice. His blank, lax eyes settled on a point somewhere near her cheek, then steadied. Misato cringed for a moment, all the revulsion of seeing her Shinji forced to be like this slipping out from lock and key. He didn't deserve it, not such a gentle, timid soul. He had perpetrated no crimes that called for such a punishment.
"It's - it's fine, Misato. If father ordered it, then I have to go." Shinji began to slump back down toward the table.
"Are you sure?" Misato persisted.
"Yes." Shinji's voice came out somewhat slurred, as his chin was now resting upon folded arms. "But, do you - do you think that Asuka could help me again?" He shifted toward the left, where Asuka was perched upon her chair, consuming her fish with practiced disinterest. "Like you did the other day with breakfast?"
Asuka froze, her teacup halfway to her mouth. Widened eyes moved slowly, surreptiously over till they picked out the form of one Shinji Ikari. Her hand fell, and the cup found itself once again sitting upon the Formica surface. She looked Shinji over, her own face creased in surprise. "I," Asuka began, then stopped. She found his eyes locked to hers, not blank and lifeless but full of a yearning need. "I - I can do that," Asuka said, her voice in quiet concession.
Shinji nodded. "Then don't worry, Misato." He then stood, steadied himself with a hand against the wall, and proceeded to head for the door. "I'm going to get ready." And he left the room.
Asuka and Misato sat for moment, awash in the silence Shinji deposited in his wake. Perhaps there was something more than civility happening between her two charges? Misato had been angry when Shinji had first told her about Asuka's theatrics concerning breakfast, but he had been able to calm her and eventually show how most of what Asuka had said to him was true, and that it had helped him. Was it too farfetched to believe that it had helped him more than even he realized? That somehow, in that moment between the two of them they had perhaps reached an understanding? Or had something else happened that she didn't know about? Misato smiled. Whatever the case, she was grateful to see such a scene take place, even if it didn't last past this morning.
"Asuka," Misato requested. "Please do look after him."
Asuka jerked at the sound of the major's voice, and forced her eyes away from the kitchen door. "I don't need you to tell me what to do!" she spat. Asuka kicked her chair away, then thundered from the room.
* * *
Tick.
And it was 7:15 am.
The back streets of Tokyo-3 were barren and bereft of life. All about the avenues of concrete and steel a slight wind scattered, unobstructed in its delirious, sweeping dance. The workday was soon to be started, but most places of employment were found within the mobile towers of the central block. Consequently, enormous amounts of traffic found itself rushing in, while almost nothing headed out or even lingered through the peripheral streets.
Except for school children. The narrow streets and alleyways were their morning playgrounds, beaten down and worn with their perpetual, regimental footsteps. They knew most every path to their eventual place of imprisonment, and also every stop, highlight, or quick fun that could be found along those various ways. This was their domain.
And yet, still, this specific street was oddly empty. Well, almost empty, that is. Asuka, after her return to school those four days ago, had taken to making this her new route to school. The streets she had selected were carefully chosen, neatly bisecting and paralleling all the popular and heavily traveled routes. She had been in no mood for early encounters, especially not after what had happened before.
It wasn't that she was scared, however. This new path was precautionary, a way to avoid being pulled into frivolous conflicts. As much as she might want to give some of those idiots with the attitudes a good ass kicking, it was not intelligent tactics to make oneself an obvious target. Asuka had endured enough of that her last few days at school.
"Left!" Asuka called out, her voice leaping over her shoulder. She strode forward, dipping behind a corner of flaky white masonry. Shinji moved behind her, clutching his bag in both hands and placing one trembling foot in front of the other. It looked as if he was walking through a den of snakes, desperately trying to pick out that perfect clean spot where his foot would not disturb anything. A few moments passed, every step denoted by a couple quiet clicks from his wristwatch, before Asuka threw her head back around the building. "Are you coming, Third Child? I know we left early today, but at this pace we'll still end up being late."
"I'm trying, Asuka," Shinji mumbled, head still downcast, eyes darting around as if they were scanning the ground in front of him. "This isn't easy."
"Why not?" she countered. "Just think of it as the kitchen."
"This isn't like the kitchen!" Shinji barked, halting mid step. "You were right about that. I knew it so well that I could get around and do things without a problem. This is a totally different way to school, though. It's my first time, Asuka. I can't even see if there's a rock or a pothole right in front of me!"
Asuka blinked, then exhaled sharply. "Oh, alright. Hold still for a moment." She pulled herself fully around the bend, and skipped past the few loose bricks that littered the side of the street. "I'll help if you really need it that much," she stated, slipping her arm through his. "Now, just follow my lead, and try not to fall. Because if you pull me down, Ikari, I will beat you from here back to the apartment. And one more thing, keep stride with me, won't you?"
"Sure," Shinji mumbled.
The pair began to walk, haltingly at first as Asuka tugged Shinji along, but eventually coming to understand one another and agree upon a moderate, even pace. The morning sun continued to rise, flickers of its light spinning off of some of the obstacles, almost adding a visual punctuation to each of Asuka's spoken directions. It proceeded like that for a while, Asuka nudging him along by adding directions and descriptions of the land.
Then the silence was broken.
"I just don't understand this decision," Asuka complained, steering Shinji about yet another corner. "I mean, really, how much interacting do they think you're going to be able to do?"
Shinji managed a weak shrug. "I can still talk, Asuka."
"You could do that before, too. And who'd you waste it on? The idiot duo. Sheesh, Third Child, talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel."
"They're nice to me," Shinji insisted.
"Maybe," Asuka huffed. "But Aida drools after your every footstep, oh you mighty Eva pilot, you. Pretty soon you're going to have to start wearing boots."
Shinji stiffened, and was promptly pulled along a few steps before rediscovering the rhythm. He remained silent, deeps faults forming in his face as his mouth twisted.
"Oh Christ," Asuka stated with a roll of her eyes. "I say one thing and you get all sullen and reticent. Come on, Shinji. Talk, will you? We're still fifteen to twenty minutes from the school at the rate you're shuffling."
"Have you had any more dreams?" he suddenly asked.
Asuka froze mid step, nearly falling over. The sudden halt sent Shinji stumbling, and he almost teetered over her, completing the mishap. Yet Asuka didn't notice. Her face hung, almost as if it wished to brush against the pavement. "No, actually. I haven't had any since that night." Asuka's voice was a slight tingle in a symphony of silence.
"I - I'm glad."
"And you?" Asuka asked, managing to pick herself up. Shinji's frown fell even deeper.
"Every night, still."
"Well, then. You just need to be stronger, don't you?"
* * *
Rei watched, silently, trailing discretely behind both the other pilots. She was not sure why, but the fact that Sohryu strode in front of Ikari, screaming out one word directions for him to navigate by displeased her. It reminded Rei very much of the time Ikari, himself, had stated his feelings concerning the commander. Those words had made Rei feel flushed and hot, almost as if a liquid heat were spreading through her pores. She had slapped Ikari for making her feel that.
The entire situation had been - unpleasant.
Was this a similar occurrence, though? Rei could feel those same alien sensations building up within her every time Sohryu shouted. Should she take action against the Second Child? Give life to the sensations?
But Ikari had chosen the Second. He had gone to Sohryu as he did before. It was not her place to supercede that decision. If Sohryu somehow diminished his pain, then leaving it was for the better, yes? Rei silently affirmed her own conclusion, then continued to watch.
Another ten minutes passed. Then, most unexpectedly, Sohryu turned about and retrieved Ikari. She placed her arm through his and began to guide him. It was not a rough, forceful yank, but more of a coaxing pull. As much as she held herself aloof, still forcing some distance between them, Rei could tell that Asuka was stepping carefully. She could see the girl's precision, the planning that was being put into each stride. The shouts that predominated their journey before died to nothing. Rei's face flexed, curling downward, as she watched the scene.
"You don't understand her behavior?" A tiny soft voice lilted from Rei's side, causing her to turn away from the pilots and glance downward. A child stood there. A girl. She was perhaps three or four years old, with smooth powder blue hair and stark red eyes. A small neutral dress completed the image. "Do you?" the child insisted.
Rei allowed her gaze to return to Ikari, mesmerized by his every matched step. "No, I do not."
"That's all right," the child smiled. "Neither does she."
* * *
The hands of the clock shifted, and it was 7:40 am. Hikari Horaki hurried up the thinly populated hallways of Tokyo-3 Middle School, on course for classroom 2A. As she was the class representative, it really would not be acceptable to arrive later than anyone else. Her sister had taught her that part of being effective and respected in this position was to show that you were dedicated to it and those it represented. There was really no way better to do that than being the first on hand and making sure that all was prepared for the teacher, the students, and the day's activities.
Of course, Hikari had also agreed to meet Toji and Kensuke this morning, in the hopes that they could further discuss the situation concerning Shinji. No real consensus had been reached among them following their encounter with Rei and her warning not to attempt to contact or visit him. The fear of possibility was bursting outward within the imaginations of her two friends, conjuring horrific maladies and injuries that threatened Shinji's very existence. Today's talks were going to put an end to that, hopefully. Hikari knew that she was going to advise them to put all else aside, and simply act upon their emotions. And if their concern carried them to the nearest phone booth or Major Katsuragi's apartment, well, so be it. She could not conceive of a situation in which people that cared for you could be a detriment.
The hallway echoed with a smattering of clacks as her shoes struck the worn tiles. Hikari eased her trot to a light walk, then stopped completely. A small square block stuck obtrusively out from the wall, proclaiming this to be the entrance to classroom 2A. A quick glance at her watch told Hikari that she had arrived in plenty of time for both her duties and her meeting. There was no way those two perpetual latecomers would ever arrive this early, even if prearranged. It just wasn't within their capabilities.
Hikari stepped through the portal of brick and ivy paint.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly open at the sight within. Sitting in his customary seat, with arms folded and chin propped and Asuka dangling about the desk just to the fore of him, was Shinji Ikari. Hikari couldn't quite believe it. He looked the same, dressed in the usual school uniform with the collar carelessly undone and tossed aside. His face seemed hale, though his posture was sagged and uncomfortable. That was normal for Shinji, however. The boy looked healthy. What could Ayanami have been talking about?
Shinji stirred then, and picked up his head. It shifted slightly, turning in Hikari's direction, then passing by her completely. Another slow turn brought a set of blue eyes to bear upon her. Hikari gasped despite herself, then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Asuka, who's there?" Shinji questioned his sprawling companion. His eyes narrowed, straining as if they wished to grab hold of Hikari and never let go. It was an unnerving sensation, being subjected to this disturbed scrutiny.
"It's Hikari," Asuka said, picking her body up and repositioning herself upon the chair. "Good morning, Hikari," she called out.
"Good morning, class rep," Shinji added, then returned to his embrace of the desk.
"Good - good morning, Asuka. Shinji," Hikari managed. Swallowing her anxiety, Hikari pushed herself further into the classroom, around a bend of desks and to her own. She dropped her bag upon it, then stepped up to the pair of pilots. "I'm glad you're both finally back in school." It was all she could come up with. Everything intelligent, understanding, or supportive had packed a day bag and sped away.
Asuka sighed heavily, then slapped Shinji on the back. "Come on, Shinji. Hikari wants to know what happened, she just can't get the words out. It's not proper to pry after all. Come on, already," she insisted again with a poke. "You can just sit there if you like. I'll tell the story."
Hikari grabbed hold of Asuka's shoulder and pulled her away from Shinji. "Is this what you meant the other day that he had been injured?" she hissed into the girl's ear. "You said he got what he deserved. Can he see, Asuka? Can he?" The last word burst from Hikari, a tangible fact of her anger.
"No, he can't," Asuka snapped. "And get your hand off my shoulder!" She swatted Hikari away, forcing the girl back a step. "Now do you want to hear or not?"
Any further explanation was disrupted however, as two more students stumbled into the classroom. "I'm sorry we're late, class rep!" they shouted near to unison, then stopped. It took a brief, tiny moment of recognition before they exploded. "Shinji!" Toji and Kensuke chorused, dropping their bags and rushing over to his desk.
"Hold it right there, you two," Asuka commanded before they could start slapping Shinji on the back or any other ridiculous form of male greeting.
"Hi, Toji. Kensuke." A wisp of a smile stretched Shinji's face. He didn't notice their mouths go slack. Toji, of course, managed to regain his ability of expression quickly.
"What the hell's going on here? Shinji, are you alright?" His voiced pounded through the room and out into the hallway. Idle straggling students suddenly accelerated their pace and entered the classroom. In less than half a minute a sizable crowd was forming around Shinji's desk, bringing with it a speculative din.
Hikari tried her best to push the crowd back, to create space. Shinji had begun to curl up in his desk, almost pulling his body into a compact knob that rested upon the chair. They wouldn't budge though. Morbid curiosity overpowered her efforts. Still, she wasn't class representative for nothing. Hikari knew she would just have to stop being nice about it.
Asuka, however, beat her to it.
The redhead launched herself to her feet, straddling the desk chair and roared. "Shut the hell up, all of you!" The wave of heat and rage that carried through her voice decimated any conversation among the crowd and left it staring dumbly at her. "You will all sit down, keep your mouths shut, and listen to me! You understand? Because this is only going to be said once."
Everyone dropped into a seat.
* * *
Misato thrust the paper back onto her desk, scattering a stack of others and dislodging the pen settled in the crook of her fingers. The small constant rattle made as the pen struck the floor and rolled beneath her desk seemed to pile on her shoulders and rap against her head. She decided to sag into her chair and find comfort in the well-shaped indentations of its upholstery.
This was just ridiculous. Misato could not concentrate worth a damn. Every time she went to do something, every time she went to sign off on one of those mounting forms her mind took a sudden u-turn and retraced its steps. And she had been over it all already. There wasn't really anything more to consider. She had her opinion on the matter, but that did not change anything one bit. She was going to have to live with the situation, and learn to put her worries aside. It made sense; it was a very logical progression of thought.
So, why then, was it so damned hard to do?
Misato slumped further, tempted to start banging her head against the edge of her paneled desk.
"If you're planning on bloodying that desk, at least let me go and get some towels."
Misato glanced up and scowled at the woman standing in her doorway. She didn't like the smug grin stretching the woman's face, nor the satisfied way in which she leant against the doorframe. All this could mean only thing: that she had the upper hand on Misato in something. "Ha, ha, Ritsu," Misato said. "Maybe you'd like to join me though?" She swept a hand toward her desk.
"No, thank you. But perhaps you'd like to tell me what's bothering you, Misato? You've been moping around all morning long, and now I find you poised for self-mutilation. Something has to be wrong."
"You analyze way too much, doctor," Misato grumbled. She bent over and began feeling about the floor for her run away pen.
"I don't think so," Ritsuko countered. "You're worried about Shinji today, aren't you?"
"And is there something the matter with that?" Misato returned the challenge. Her fingers graced a slim tube and she seized upon it, then swung it back up to her jacket and tucked the pen away.
"There's nothing wrong with worrying, per se. If, however, it causes your attention to scatter and interferes with your job, then yes, it is a problem," Ritsuko stated, settling herself on the lone clean edge of Misato's desk.
"Aw, come on, Ritsu. You know this sending Shinji to school is a joke."
The blonde haired scientist shrugged. "The psyche department doesn't seem to think so."
Misato snorted. "I can understand and support their point about spending time with his friends. But what about all the others there? You know Shinji. He's a timid person. Sending him back in the state he's in now is like breaking his arms, kicking him off the boat, and telling him to swim to shore. Factor in everything that's been happening to Asuka lately, and I just do not consider it a healthy situation for him."
Ritsuko nodded at the mention of Asuka's plight. "Yes, I was reading about Asuka's difficulties in your report."
"So you know what I'm driving at, then?" Misato asked, a bit of the tension easing from her face.
"Yes," Ritsuko said. Misato only just stalled herself from clapping. "But," the doctor added, "I don't agree with it."
"What?" Any sudden lapse in the tension that was twisting in Misato's shoulders returned, ticketed to work overtime.
"Look, Misato," Ritsuko began, hopping off of the major's desk. "If it were possible that the children were in any real danger they would not be in school now. Just try and relax." Ritsuko gave Misato a brief smile, then slipped through the doorway, a fading sensation of flapping white.
"If they're so safe, doctor," Misato's voice ground, "then why can't Shinji see now?"
* * *
It had been stupid of him, really. Shinji knew that had things been normal, even after being unexpectedly sent to school, he would have never forgotten to whip together lunches for Asuka and himself. But he had, and so failed. And now here he was, deposited by Hikari, Asuka, Toji, and Kensuke beneath one of the courtyard's several trees while they went back inside to retrieve some of the school lunches for the both of them.
Shinji shifted, and pushed his back up against the tree. The bark roughed his shirt and teased his flesh with an odd uneven rub. At least that felt right. The sun too. He could feel the wind it warmed as the breezes rolled through the courtyard and beneath his tree. The sensations as the wind slipped over you conjured nothing but pleasant feelings.
At least it would have.
Shinji, however, found himself shielded from this pleasure. His mind, sparked by regret over his mishap with the lunches, decided instead to focus upon everything that surrounded him. He studied the fading shades of black and gray that processed before his eyes in a march of oblong lumps and bumps that both shrunk and towered from one moment to another. This was his prison, now. A world bereft of color and light.
Shinji remembered his dreams. He suddenly saw the calm coaxing face of his mother. It hung in front of him, whispering, reminding him of all she had told him. Those words, they bunched within Shinji's heart. He would be no good to them, he remembered his mother telling him. He could no longer serve any purpose. Without his eyes, his father had no use for him. He was a hindrance, a bother now. So long as he was within these dark walls no one associated with NERV could even care about his presence. All he did was pull them down.
And Shinji remembered her promise. His mother had smiled, had held him close to her, and told him it was time for him to leave his father. She had promised that if he came to her, if he left this all behind, then she could give him his eyes back. Together, they would be able to enjoy everything he was missing now.
He had almost agreed right then. And perhaps he should have. Nothing here was right, not now. Toji and Kensuke seemed wary of him somehow. Almost as if they ventured too close he might fracture and tumble into a thousand pieces. Shinji could only find tiny slivers of what once shone between the three of them, what made him comfortable around them. His prison seemed all the darker for it.
"Hey you, Ikari." A voice. It was a falling tone, steadily losing pitch on its way to maturity. Shinji stiffened, thrusting his back painfully upward over the bark. "Look at the Eva pilot," the voice sneered.
"Not so great now, huh?" Another voice, this one slightly higher in tone. Shinji's head spun trying to track it.
"Doesn't look very mighty to me," a third voice noted. "Doesn't look like the lord of the land." Shinji didn't bother to take detailed notice of this one. He moved slightly, hoping to free himself of the tree and scramble backwards. He was sure that all three were in front of him. "Nope, doesn't look untouchable anymore."
"Hey! Not so fast, Ikari." Shinji felt his progress jerked to halt. The front of his shirt was clenched, being yanked forward. He was wrenched to his feet, and a hot sour breath slid across his face. Shinji made a vain effort of struggling. "No, no," the first voiced admonished him. "You're not leaving yet. The three of us have something we want to discuss with you first."
Suddenly he was falling, the force behind his elevation disappearing. Shinji hit the ground, and rolled over, trying to prop himself back up. He didn't the get the chance though. A foot impacted with his side, eliciting a sudden blossom of pain. Then a second and a third. Another caught his leg. Shinji tried to roll away, tried to curl up, but the blows kept landing. He was quickly gasping, groaning, trying in any way to give vent to the fire that was consuming his body.
"What's the matter?" one of the voices taunted. "Can't see what's coming?"
Shinji couldn't bring himself to respond. The quiet rumble of the gathering crowd was slapping at the pain in his head like a perpetual oar. It didn't matter much anyway, the voices weren't looking for a response. Besides, maybe it was better like this. Maybe his mother was right.
Shinji yelped as he was forced to stand again. It was the same one, that same sticky exhalation struck his chin and cheek. He let himself go slack, ready to accept the next blow.
It didn't come, however. The world, the air, everything around him seemed to freeze for a moment, it's attention suddenly shifted away. Then a fourth voice. This one hard, yet blazing with deadly fury.
"Put him down, and prepare to die."
Asuka.
And Shinji hit the ground once again.
* * *
Toji threw his lunch tray to the grass, and prepared to hurl himself through the crowd and into the fray. He wouldn't let those bastards get away with attacking Shinji, especially considering the shape he was in. It was cowardly to do such a thing. It you had a problem with somebody, then damnit, you should confront him about it. Man to man. Just as he and Shinji had done.
Asuka had already engaged, faster than Toji would have thought she might. It had seemed most likely to him that she would debate with herself for a bit, before indulging in the small pleasure of dolling out some pain. In her twisted psyche, that was probably reason enough to allow herself to be seen helping a known 'pathetic pervert.'
Hell, maybe NERV had some sort of policy that required its pilots to aid one another?
One leg launched forward while the other hung back, gripping the turf, ready to push off and propel Toji forward in an explosion of action. He didn't make it, though. Just as he was about to thrust into the crowd, a hand found his arm and wrenched it back hard. Toji jerked to a halt, first stunned, then spinning around to find out who in the name of all hell would be trying to stop him from helping Shinji. That person, he knew, would come to know the ground real fast.
Hikari, however, stood in front of him.
The sight of the class rep grasping him like a tether froze the heated flush on Toji's face. He wanted to yell, he wanted to throw her off, but could not. This - this was the class rep. He would not force a confrontation with her to get free. And yet, Toji found himself wincing as her slender fingers pressed deeper into the flesh of his forearm. She might actually be able to handle herself if such a situation did occur.
"Let me go, class rep!" Toji assailed her. "I need to help."
Hikari shook her head slightly, her pigtails swaying in a soft sideways dance. "You shouldn't. Let Asuka handle it."
"Asuka?" Toji's face wrinkled into a mass of incredulity. "Asuka can't use one of her arms, Hikari. I know she's strong, but those are three guys out there, and she's just, well, a girl."
The fingers strangling his arm tightened. Toji ground his teeth, staunchly refusing to even gasp. "This is something Asuka needs to do. Please, Suzuhara. Have faith in her." A derisive snort proclaimed Toji's opinion on that matter. Hikari tried again. "If not that, then can you at least trust me?"
Much like her hand, Hikari's eyes latched onto Toji and stilled him. He tried to pull away, to ignore them, but their earnest plea forced itself through his barriers. His shoulders slumped. "Alright, class rep. Have it your way. But if it looks like things are starting to get out of hand, I'm jumping in. Got that?"
Hikari assented. "Of course. I wouldn't expect less of you, Suzuhara." Her fingers relaxed their pressure, but did not fall from his arm. The pair turned, wedged into the crowd, and watched Asuka's defense of Shinji.
It was over in a matter of minutes.
The first boy sat slumped against the tree holding his nose and trying to contain the heavy flow of blood that was threatening to completely dye his shirt. The second boy was simply huddled upon the ground, rolling away from his own vomit, and pulling all his limbs inward in some kind of protective fencing about his groin. The third was on his back and thrashing, long yelps and fiery cries snapping from his mouth every few seconds. His hands kept threatening to go near his knee, but they would pull back from the oddly positioned joint with each new convulsion.
Asuka spared them a glance, then swung away and knelt by Shinji. She forced some drenched, displaced hair from its current grasp of her face, and helped to ease him into a squat. "Idiot," she told the bruised boy, "I thought I told you to just sit here."
* * *
As the crowd around the fight parted, so did Rei. Still, while being swept up in the mass of movement, Rei managed to keep herself squarely positioned within line-of-sight of both Ikari and Sohryu. A group of five stiffly attired teachers made their way through the sudden corridor, then separated, three heading toward the still suffering boys, and two approaching the pilots.
Rei's eyes wandered over the scene, recording all of its various facets and circumstances. One of the two teachers who had taken position near Ikari knelt by the boy and began to speak softly to him. The other seized Sohryu by the wrist and yanked, pulling the girl to her feet. That teacher's face displayed something through its contortions. It took Rei a moment to realize it, but she had seen that something many times on Sohryu's own features. The teacher was angry.
Rei flicked her gaze to Asuka. She had assumed that Sohryu would return the attitude of her captor. From what she had been able to gather from experience with the Second Child, Rei knew that Sohryu did not express contentment with being handled by others. And yet, Sohryu seemed undisturbed by her treatment. The corners of the girl's mouth were slightly upraised and her head was held high and firm. Sohryu offered no protest as she was forced away from the scene. She appeared to be - to be -
"Satisfied?" a small voice offered from her side.
Rei nodded to the child who stood next to her. Satisfied was an appropriate definition of the apparent emotion. But why should satisfaction prevail upon Sohryu? She had violated the school's code of conduct, and placed herself in a position of reprimand. "Was it because she was allowed to fight?" The words escaped Rei, hardly breaking free of the girl's stillness.
The child paused. "One could think that," she then stated. "But is it what you consider truth?"
"I do not know," Rei admitted. "I am - unfamiliar with such things."
The child reached up, pulling on Rei's hand until she was forced to kneel. One set of red pools found another. "You do understand such things," the child emphasized. "What did you feel when those boys attacked Ikari?"
Rei blinked. Feel? Did the child not understand? She was not the same as the others. "I cannot answer that."
For a moment the child's face scrunched up. It seemed as if thoughts were tumbling about her tiny head, falling over one another until they reached a pattern and began to build. "What did you wish to do when Ikari was attacked?"
What did she wish to do? Was the child requesting a clarification of her orders? No. Wish implied a personal goal of some kind. What did she wish to do? "I," Rei began, then paused. She paid no attention to the crowd that dispersed around her, no attention to the bodies that bumped and banged her. "I - I wished to aid Ikari," she finally said.
The child nodded. "As did Sohryu. Now, tell me, would you have not felt satisfaction if you had successfully aided Ikari?"
Something flashed in Rei's mind. An image. The angel. She had given herself up to protect Ikari. He had raced for her, reached for her, pulling open the entry plug. He had - cared for her. She had protected him, and in turn he wanted to protect her. Ikari had asked her to smile. Rei's mouth twitched, then settled. It was no longer standing static. "Yes," Rei admitted, " I would be satisfied with such a performance."
The child smiled back. "And you think you do not understand human beings? And you think yourself less than them?"
* * *
"Really, Maya, this was some spectacular work. You even bested my expectations when I assigned the upgrade work to you."
Lieutenant Maya Ibuki sat stock still in her chair. She could feel the warmth of a blush invading every portion of her face, and prayed that the distance between her and Dr. Akagi's desk was significant enough that it wouldn't be too noticeable. "Thank you, Dr. Akagi. But really, you don't need to say such things. You brought me up to this level."
"Nonsense, Maya." Ritsuko admonished her with a wave of the performance report. "I only had to correct fourteen lines of code in the entire body of work. That's amazing considering their extremely complex nature, and it's more than I could teach anyone. It might even be better than I could have pulled off at your age. What it definitely was, Maya, was a concrete display of your own talent and abilities."
Maya bowed her head a little further and snatched a small porcelain cat from atop Ritsuko's desk. She twirled the sleek white feline in her fingers, searching out every curve and depression. "Thank you, Dr. Akagi," she stuttered again.
"Stop thanking me already, Maya." Ritsuko rolled her eyes. "But prepare yourself. I've been looking for someone competent who could assist me in the scientific division, and if I bring your work to the commanders' attention I should be able to pry you off that bridge once and for all. Bigger and better things, Maya. Bigger and better things."
The blush dropped from Maya's face. "I understand." She began to turn in her seat, staring in at Dr. Akagi who was busily thrusting papers away in preparation for heading to the bridge. "When do you plan on testing the Magi upgrade's abilities, Doctor Akagi?"
"I'm not sure yet," Ritsuko's voice floated up from beneath the desk as she struggled to close one of its lower drawers. "I have to discuss the options with Commander Ikari." The drawer finally clapped shut, and Ritsuko reappeared. "Are you ready to go?"
"Before we leave, may I ask you one more question?" Maya ventured. She rose somewhat shakily from her desk, and found the blush returning to her cheeks. Ritsuko stared at her for a long moment, scanning her, making Maya feel as if she should have said nothing.
"All right," Ritsuko finally decided. "What is it that you want to know, Maya?"
"Those protocols, that the new code helped to create, well, why do the MAGI need to be able to predict human behavior within a ninety percent accuracy rating? The angels aren't human. Shouldn't we be devoting more research time to discovering patterns in their behavior?"
Ritsuko smiled thinly. "Don't worry about the tactics, Maya. As you know our best defense against the angels is having the children synched as highly as possible with their Eva's. What we've just completed is a purely scientific venture. Nothing more."
* * *
Misato stared at her cell phone. The small black unit lay upon her desk, nestled between several stacks of papers, and refused to ring. It just would not cooperate. Not only had she asked Shinji and Asuka to give her a call during their lunch break, which had ended about twenty minutes ago, she was also expecting a ring from Kaji.
Misato hated sitting on her hands. All she wanted was a smidgen of information from both fronts. Word of what was going on would be preferable. She wanted to be able to relax. Misato wanted to know that Shinji and Asuka weren't having any problems. She wanted to know that Kaji hadn't taken off to Germany on only the scantest of leads, and that he was actually contributing something useful to the situation.
"He better damn well come back with something useful," Misato grumbled to herself, eyes refusing to leave the phone. The message he left on the answering machine had been entirely unhelpful, though even Misato didn't expect him to explicitly state what his intentions were. Not with a monitor on their lines. A hint would have been nice, though. But no, instead all she got was a 'be a good girl until I get back' message.
Misato kicked her trashcan across the office.
Stupid damn phones. Always ringing when you don't want them to and never when you do.
There had been an end to that message too, but most of it had been cut off by the machine. What bothered Misato most was that Kaji had sounded genuinely worried when he started to speak. There had been something he wanted to say to her, something that he wanted to warn her about.
Misato chewed her lip. Damnit, she needed another trashcan.
Then the phone promptly rung.
Misato dove forward, practically falling from her chair. Her fingers whisked the cell phone from her desk, taking a full stack of papers with it, and sailed it to her ear. "Yes?" The ringing continued, however, forcing her eyes to the blocky rotary that sat atop the desk. Misato twitched, then tossed the cell back to its previous place of rest.
"Hello," she stated, pulling the receiver to her ear. "Yes, this is she." One. Two. Three. Four blinks. Then, "What?!"
* * *
And the clock changed. It was 6:30 am.
Kaji emptied the last of the brandy into his mouth, swished it about, and then promptly spit into a sytrofoam cup. Both cup and bottle then took up residence upon the beige carpeting of his rented sedan. It hadn't taken him long to arrive at this point. The second branch had been entirely unaware of his actions, simply allowing him access to their compound after a swipe of his identification card. One secluded terminal after that and bingo: he had managed to worm his way into personnel files concerning the newly transfered Alpha rotation. Names, addressess, family information: alot of what Kaji had needed to confirm some guesses had been right there.
Now, it was just a matter of waiting.
Kaji twisted himself slightly, readjusting his position behind the wheel, then continued to stare out the window. It was a nice neighborhood. From the paving stone street to the authentic town houses to the newly added and greening trees that lined the roadway, everything was manicured and pretty. As morning rose the sky was beginning to blue, and you could take a good look at the far off mountains that loomed just over the peaks of the houses.
There was something dark hiding among all the beauty, though. The snake of this paradise, Kaji mused. Well, one of them at least. A whole nest was lying somewhere near here, and it would serve him best to avoid stepping directly into it.
To his right, one of the townhouses opened, spilling forth a boy. He looked to be about fifteen, and was definitely Japanese, Kaji noted. His hair was a wild length of black, and he wore a loose jogging suit. Still, Kaji had memorized the photograph, both from the database at the children's school and Schreiner's own recently admitted file. His double check had left no doubt. This was his man.
The boy turned and swung the door shut behind him. He skipped down a few slate steps, legs already pumping in a familiar rhythm, and paced out of the front yard and onto the street. Kaji stepped from his car, and adjusted his blazer around the shoulder holster hidden beneath its black folds. It wouldn't due at all to get pulled aside by the local police before he was able to make contact with his target.
Kaji took off at a brisk walk.
He followed the boy for several blocks, before his target turned into a sparsely-populated commercial avenue. The street was crowded on each side with a variety of stumpy buildings just beginning their daily stirrings. Kaji increased his stride.
"My, oh my," Kaji said, having matched the boy's deliberate pace. They had moved down the avenue, passing by the most consistent of the thinly gathering crowds. Kaji knew there would be no better opportunity. The pistol flew free from its holster and he pressed it to the boy's back. "You're looking quite spry for someone reported dead, my friend."
The boy snapped straight, as if suddenly transformed from flesh to sculpture. "What do you want?" His voice slipped out, high and ready to fracture. Kaji dropped a hand upon one hunched shoulder and pushed the boy toward the side of the road.
"Into the alleyway, if you wouldn't mind." They moved forward, disappearing into a narrow street, fortified by walls of brick on each side. The back doors of a few shops adorned the red-faced masonry, as well a few lines of garbage cans at each of the stoops. "Now," Kaji said. "Take three long strides forward, and don't turn around. I know all about you, Azuma Matsushita. So please, keep still. No lunging or running."
"What do you want?" Azuma tried again, complying with Kaji's demands.
"Well, you're Azuma Matsushita. Son of Wakaba Matsushita, a member of Section-2's erstwhile Alpha rotation."
"You're from NERV?"
"Assume what you wish," Kaji smiled. "But what I would like to know is how the son of a Section-2 agent can attack two of the only three Evangelion pilots, survive the experience, and then suddenly find himself, his father, and his father's co-workers relocated to another country not two days after the incident. Do you think you could explain that, Azuma?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Azuma protested. Kaji cocked his pistol. The sharp click bounded heavily within the narrow alley.
"Please, don't lie," Kaji instructed the boy. The usual constant humor that he spoke with abandoned him, leaving his voice direct and unpleasant. "Three people's lives depend on your answers. Only two of those concern me."
"Alright, alright!" Azuma legs were buckling, almost as if he hoped that by dropping Kaji might somehow miss him. "I'm a sharpshooter. Registered and everything. My father taught me how. One day, about three weeks ago, my father told me that he needed my help in a mission. I agreed, I couldn't deny him."
"Go on," Kaji advised.
"He told me I would have two targets to intercept: a male and a female about my age. The Eva pilots. I was to open fire on them after making a show of my disgust with them and their status. It was an easy cover. A lot of people resent them. The girl was supposed to be hit twice in non-critical areas. The boy I was to hit in the temple."
"You were supposed to shoot him in the head?" Kaji could feel his finger tightening on the trigger.
"No, no!" Azuma protested. "I was supposed to graze his temple, just enough so that he would be shocked and bloodied."
"Tell me, Azuma. Could your shot have damaged the boy enough to cause him to lose his sight?"
"I don't know. I'm not a doctor."
"Think!" Kaji snarled.
"I - I don't think so. I'm confident in my shot. I've been hitting bulls-eyes since I was six. Injuring the boy in any critical way was not in the mission scenario."
"Do you know why you're father asked you to do this?"
"No. He asked, and I followed orders. It's always been like that."
Kaji nodded, then took three quick steps and whipped the butt of the pistol across the boy's head. Azuma collapsed instantly, a sudden pile of gray linen and hair. Kaji knelt and slipped two fingers across the boy's wrist, searching a few seconds before he found a pulse and nodded in satisfaction. The pistol then quickly found itself back inside the shoulder holster, and Kaji picked Azuma up and carried him to a neat row of garbage cans. He scanned the door that waited just above the cans, and finally satisfied that no one would amble out at an inopportune moment, dumped the boy behind them. Kaji quickly rearranged the metal bins, crowding them together so that all the cracks in between were filled.
He then buttoned his jacket, and strolled out of the alleyway.
NERV was involved.
The question of course, when considering anything done by that agency, was why?
[End Part 5]
End Notes: Many thanks go to my prereaders: Kyo Tetsuei, Melody Rayearth, Skull-leader,
and Kekkonen. Thanks also go out to the folks on the EFML for their thoughts on the
piece.