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Chapter One: The Death of Shinji Ikari

This is now.

Unfamiliar cei--ouch…

Shinji slowly sat up, holding his aching head. He was careful not to touch his right eye, where apparently a bruise had formed. He tried to sort his thoughts while looking down at the wrinkled sheets of his hospital bed. Sunlight spilled onto the white of his surroundings, making the room glow with an unearthly pale tone. His own skin seemed rough to him, and after bringing his arm close to his face, the smell of blood remained stagnant in his nostrils.

He looked up at his surroundings, at the medical supplies at his bedside, at the IV in his arm, and at the pale woman who stood by the windows. He sighed before laying back…

Woman? He shot up in his bed to look again. There was no one there. I need to rest… I'm delusional from… Fragments of the battle poured into his mind, but he tried hard to sleep, preferring to never remember what put him in the hospital.

"How goes the recovery of EVA unit One, Ritsuko?" Misato asked in the truck, yawning quite obnoxiously. Ritsuko smiled a bit at her friend's ruffled hair and tired eyes before replying, "It's already being returned to the cage… now our only problem is fixing the damage done to Tokyo-3 itself. And to the pilot, of course."

"I heard the medical technician, Ritsuko. They said he died—"

"They said his lifesigns stopped. They never announced him as officially dead," Ritsuko corrected.

"His lifesigns stopped for twenty seconds…" Misato sighed and relaxed in her chair until Ritsuko pinched her side.

"No sleeping yet, you've got paperwork."

Misato groaned at the thought and sat upright, slapping herself lightly to stay awake. She observed the damage done to the building to her right, at the repair site at which they arrived. The bottom looked as though it had been ripped from place, no doubt the building that was pushed fourteen blocks in the battle once EVA-01 went berserk. To think we had to use restraining wires that were designed for Angels… Misato's mind became muddled with worry, both over her own ordeals with paperwork and the ordeal of near-death that the pilot now had to recover from. Near-death…

He found the strength to stand, although with shaking legs. His movements, he discovered, were sluggish at best and pathetic at worst. He was quick to sit back down on the bed, having grown tired from a few steps back and forth, and sighed with frustration. Why am I here? More fragments of the battle flashed across his mind, but again he shrugged them off.

"I'm hungry." The blank walls did not answer him, nor did the door open in response. He sighed once more, and was startled by the feeling of eyes on his back. He turned to the window and, at the same spot he noted her at before, the woman stood. The image of her white and black disposition brought it back in a grand wave as memories flooded his mind. Most noted above all things of the battle was Death. Death stood in his room, and he had nothing to say to her. Her ever-present smile was still on her face, although he could barely see it as a cloud moved out of the sunlight's path, making her a silhouette.

Immediately he began recalling the many voices throughout his life, the comforting and cheating and lying voices, the evil and sweet and good voices, far and between and never all from the same source. But he could barely remember her voice, for it did not fit in any of these categories. She spoke again, filling him with a knot that seemed to encompass the entirety of his internal organs. "So you're alive after all. That's good, I guess, I don't think you enjoyed life very much, and I'd rather you do that before you come with me... quite the shiner you got there, kid."

Shinji could find nothing to say, nothing that could matter to this stark figure of Fate. She was Death, and he was alive… he isn't supposed to meet her. Or am I?

"Um… why… why are you here?" Shinji finally managed.

"You wished for me so much… and yet, when I come to collect you, when your time is up, you come back to life. Not in a hospital, and not with medical care. You came with me… and left. No one has ever done that before, let alone the Hell bound."

Shinji was about to ask another question when he realized she was a Westerner. A Westerner who speaks fluent Japanese…?

"Hell bound?"

"That means you're going to Hell when you die."

Shinji pondered the strange, western word for a moment, then remembered his lessons on world religions…

"H-h-h-Hell! Why am I going to Hell!"

"You were almost mine before, Shinji."

Shinji remembered that defining moment, almost a year ago, when his own hand slit his wrists. He looked down at them; the scars no longer visible thanks to the hospital care and scar removal. "Because of that…?"

"Attempting suicide is considered an unforgivable sin… Western religion was right, at least on that aspect. There is a Hell, and you will go to it… but cheer up, you still got the rest of your life, and it's looking peachy keen from where I stand!" She stretched her arms out as though to provide visual note of her exclamation. Shinji could only stare in shock.

I'm going to Hell… what the hell!" Shinji sputtered, "It…it's not fair! I've been a good person… I just got…"

"Doesn't matter, sorry, I don't make the rules. But don't worry, maybe there's a loophole you can figure out before you die."

"Really?" Shinji asked, hope filling his heart.

"Not really, sorry. Eons of suicidal beings can't be wrong." Death frowned for the first time in Shinji's presence, and at that moment Shinji's peril seemed such a small thing compared to her disposition.

What am I thinking, I'm going to Hell! Western religion Hell! Dammit! Shinji threw himself back onto his bed, rubbing his eyes softly. He then recalled his previous query, "Why are you here?"

"Well, I claimed you, and you're still alive… so I have to stick around until you pass on with me. You've got me in quite a bind, as you can imagine. Things will still die, but I won't be there when it happens, is all. Pretty simple, when you think about it." She flashed him another of her haunting smiles as he uncovered his eyes, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Then… I have no choice."

"Well, when you die is entirely up to you. You could give up now and forget your obligations, since this window doesn't seem shatterproof. Or you could live on, fight me off as long as you can… I don't mind either way, because in the end, you will come with me." She folded her arms across her bosom, across the large silver ankh that hung about her neck. Staring at her beautiful eyes, Shinji looked forward to the idea of that being inevitable.

Misato walked along the rows of hospital waiting room chairs to find Shinji talking to himself while staring out the large windows. I hope he didn't suffer any brain damage…

"She cannot see me. Only you can see me, so don't talk to me when others are around, otherwise we'll be talking in padded cells," Death explained. Shinji did not understand at first, until he saw Misato. He immediately regained his composure and stood up from his seat. He walked over to Misato, nodding to her slightly. "Hello, Miss Katsuragi," Shinji greeted with a bow.

Misato nodded slightly. "Come, I discussed your housing with the Commander while you were recovering from…" Misato's expression became more somber, but then she cheered up and announced, "You're going to be living with me for the time being! Let's go, your doctor says you're ready to leave… your stuff is already in my house."

Shinji cringed slightly at the idea of riding in her car, but then looked back to where Death stood. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a tall, lithe figure speaking to her of equal pale complexion. He blinked, and the image was gone, as was Death. He looked back at Misato and nodded. "Ok…" They began walking down the corridor, Misato thinking about the organization of her home, Shinji thinking about nothing aside from the face of Death… and how absolutely beautiful it was.