The cubical shapes of skyscrapers pass by the passenger window. Next to me, Misato stares onto the street, jaws clenched, hands tight around the steering wheel.
She hasn't said much besides a quick "sorry" for letting me wait for almost three hours, followed by her usual, empty phrases. But that suits me just right. My brain's busy ruminating anyway.
A simple "Thank you" probably would have been enough. Or "Sorry for being such a bitch". Hell, that's the minimum I should have said. But no, I had to act like a total asshole. Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I must've looked like a bumbling idiot. Okay, pump the brakes! It wasn't me who made things awkward. Let's not forget that. Bringing a present and even hugging me? What was up with that? And the way Shinji said goodby—it sounded so exhausted and final.
I sink back into the seat trying to push Shinji out of my head. I'm overthinking again and overthinking never leads anywhere good. He probably just had a bad day.
God knows I wasn't feeling like rainbows and kittens either. I relax a little and my head clears for about two seconds, then, as if on auto-repeat, the scene plays in my head again. Right on queue, my cheeks start to burn and I'm almost ready to rapidly slam my head onto the console.
A sense of relief washes over me when we finally arrive at the familiar apartment complex and I can climb out of the car. Misato watches me with concern while I carefully place my feet onto the ground. When I feel steady enough I hold my breath and press up. For a scary moment, I think my legs will buckle under my weight but they proudly do their job. Okay, now for my backpack.
"Need any help?" Misato asks as I reach back into the car. I wave her off. I won't run a marathon anytime soon but I'm on my own feet again as long as I don't overdo it. Backpack ready but still a little shaky, I follow Misato into the lobby where I'm presented with a choice: Share the elevator with her or take the stairs. There is no way I'll make it up to the tenth on my own, but there's also no way I'm letting a challenge fly by. Besides, a little workout will hopefully help to clear my head. I've got bigger things to worry about than Shinji fucking Ikari.
I'm out of breath when I reach the first floor and have to call for the elevator on the second. But hey, small steps, right?
I eventually reach Misato's apartment where I find her leaning against the door frame. She gauges me for a moment, then she gestures into the apartment with a faint smile.
"After you."
A sour odor hits me as I walk in. "Holy shit, did something die in there?"
"Sorry, I don't come here very often."
Figures. Holding my nose, I step over two plastic bags with unidentifiable contents and make my way further down the apartment. The kitchen is officially a mess. The sink is strewn with dishes of unknown age and an assortment of beer cans, pods of instant noodles and an overflowing ashtray decorates the kitchen table. One of the noodle-pod lies toppled, its contents spilled out like intestines. A distant memory flashes through my mind and my hand automatically feels for my stomach to check if everything's still where it belongs.
Misato vanishes into her room and I would love to do the same but fatigue crawls up my legs and I can sense a cramp coming my way. I drop my backpack, shove two empty beer cans from a chair and slump down, my heart still beating like crazy.
And right there, under the thinning veil of painkillers, my arm makes itself noticed. Like always it starts with millions of small needle-stabs, running from my fingertips right up to my shoulder. But it won't stay that way. If I let it, the pain will swell into a thunderstorm in no time flat. The good news is that I'll probably be able to regain full control of my arm if I keep up with my training. But the pain is stubborn and the Doc gave me a Maybe that suspiciously sounded like a No when I asked him if it will ever fully go away.
I draw my backpack close and fish for the brown pillbox housing my new best friends. The orange pills are for the pain, the grey ones help me sleep, and the thin white ones—What are those for again? Can't remember. I just know that they make everything a bit more tolerable. I pop two of the orange ones and scan the apartment.
Even though I only lived here for about a year this is still the closest thing to a home I can think of. There even was a time where my roommates were like a family to me.
Sure, a dysfunctional, utterly crazy family but I wouldn't know it any other way. All that's left is Misato's way-to-sweet-for-her-age perfume hanging in the air, mixing with the smell of decay. A sudden heaviness grips my heart that I can't quite place. Maybe the pills.
"Want something to eat?" Misato says when she re-emerges from her room. She has exchanged the uniform for a yellow tank-top and shorts and looks all casual. The strict presence she sports, when she's in CO-Mode, is nowhere in sight.
"No, thanks." Food's probably the lowest item on my priority list right now. The undisputed top spot makes one simple question: What will happen to me now?
Misato was suspiciously evasive whenever I brought the topic up.
Misato shrugs and gets to work on the disgusting pile of dishes that smells even worse than I initially thought and it's immediately obvious why Shinji did most of the chores around here. Sometimes it's hard to believe that a woman like her made CO of a paramilitary organization.
My chest tightens and suddenly I wish Shinji were here. I could use a reassuring look right now. But he isn't here so I have to make do with what I have at hand. In goes one of the white pills. Why compromise? Might as well plow forward and see if my heart made the right decision when it so stubbornly refused to stop beating after the interface fried my brain.
"When am I expected to resume active duty?" I say.
"There's no need to rush things. We'll figure everything out once you're ready."
"I am ready. Maybe not at a hundred percent but I'll be there. Let me into an Entry Plug and I'll prove it."
Misato dries her hands and turns around. "Look, it's been a long day and I'm really hungry. How about we discuss this tomorrow?"
"No," I shake my head "We'll do it now."
"Asuka—"
"Don't Asuka me! I've waited long enough and now I expect to be properly briefed and reinstated." Misato's eyes narrow but then a resigned look appears on her face.
"Okay," she says and drops the apron "As you wish, Pilot Soryu." She walks over to the fridge and treats herself to a beer.
"Want one?"
For a second I'm tempted but alcohol doesn't suit the Evangelion Pilot in me. A Pilot needs to stay sharp and clear-headed and I don't think alcohol will mix well with all the pills I've swallowed. I ask for a coke instead, which I know she doesn't have.
Misato places a glass of tap water in front of me and sighs heavily as she lets herself down on the chair next to me. She vacantly stares at the beer can in her hand, her fingernails drumming on its side. Then, as if she just remembered something, she places it on the table.
"To answer your initial question. You have been flagged as inactive for the time being. No one expects you to resume anytime soon."
"So? Put me back on the roster. Unit-02 needs a pilot right?"
"It's not that easy."
"Why?"
Misato sighs and rubs her eyes. "What do you know about what happened?"
"Not much. Shinji killed the seventeenth angel. Then some religious nut-jobs attacked NERV-HQ because we were — quote-unquote — interfering with God's work. I got the short end of the stick and our Goldenboy had to save the day."
A smile glints across Misato's lips "Well, that's certainly one way to put it. Did Shinji tell you what happened to his father?"
"No, that idiot barely tells me anything."
"I see," Misato says and her voice drops a few degrees. "What I'm telling you now is classified and officially way outside your clearance. I don't think I need to explain what happens if you break confidentiality, right?"
"No, sir," I say and a chill runs down my spine. Suddenly I'm reminded that this is, in fact, NERVs CO sitting in front of me.
"Good," Misato leans forward. "These religious nutjobs were an extremely powerful group of individuals who infiltrated large parts of the UN. We still don't know what their ultimate goal was but Commander Ikari and Subcommander Fuyutsuki played a major role. Both are currently charged with high treason and will probably spend the rest of their lives in jail." She makes a small pause to gauge my reaction.
I'm not sure how I'm expected to feel right now. Should I be shocked? I mean come on, the man basically was the chairman of the creepy, old bastards club.
The fact that he tried to backstab NERV only confirms that he was every bit the crazy lunatic I suspected him to be. No wonder Shinji turned out the way he did. I hope he'll rot in hell.
When I don't answer Misato goes on to give me a full rundown on the current state of the UN, how it was thrown into chaos, and how the remaining Member States established an investigation committee to get rid of SEELE agents. I would love to tell her how much I don't care about politics and this conspiracy bullshit. The only thing that matters to me is when I'll get to see Unit-02 again. But I listen like a good soldier and nod once in a while.
"I still don't get what that has to do with me," I say after Misato is finished with her pseudo briefing.
"That's pretty simple. The new UN Administration generally distrusts everything that is even closely related to NERV and given the circumstances that's only understandable.
Technically they don't have any jurisdiction here in Tokyo-3. Not even the Japanese Senate has. But—and that's the big one—they are the ones who control the budgets. We already had to shut down most of our foreign branches and that leaves us with barely enough money to keep the lights on around Tokyo-3. We simply can't afford to maintain two active Evangelions." She sighs. "So what remained of Unit-02 is currently held in stasis. We've restored parts of it but it's still far from operational."
"What !" I nearly jump from my seat. "It's been almost a year. What about the angels? What if they return? Do you seriously plan to defend Tokyo-3 with a single Evangelion?"
"There won't be any more attacks. The seventeenth was the last one."
"How can you possibly know that?"
"That's classified. You'll have to trust me on this one," Misato says, voice sharp to let me know that this is not up for discussion and I'm starting to understand what she's getting at. It's a gut-wrenching prospect. "Look, those UN-Guys aren't stupid. They are just afraid and reconstructing Unit-02 is simply not our highest priority right now."
"So I'm obsolete? Is that what you're telling me?" My fingers clench. "I know I haven't performed as I should have but I always gave everything. I had my goddamn guts turned into a slushy for NERV. You can't just throw me away like that. I deserve a second chance."
"Asuka," Misato says and suddenly there is an unexpected warmth in her voice. "No one has the intention to throw you away but you have to understand that there are simply no enemies left to fight," she smiles. "Your mission is over and now you deserve a normal life. You are still a teenager. Teenagers shouldn't be forced to play soldier." Her words are like a punch to the gut. My head starts to swirl and a bitter taste rises in the back of my throat. "There is nothing to worry about. NERV will back you financially and support you in whatever you want to do with your life."
"I'm sorry?" I say, mouth dry like chalk. "Do I look like a normal teenager to you?"
Misato just stares at me, eyes wide.
"Answer my question," I hiss. "Do—I—Look normal to you?"
"No," she finally whispers.
"That's because I'm not normal," I say my voice trembling. "I'm a soldier. Piloting Unit-02 is my normal life. It's all I have. You know that better than anyone else don't you?" Misato's head turns red and I can't tell if it's from anger or shame or whatever. I don't care, I just want her to feel a fraction of the things I currently feel. "You want to support me? Great. Let me into an Entry Plug and let me show you that I'm a useful asset."
"We don't even know if you can still sync." Misato tries "Your injuries—"
"It will work."
Misato leans back and loses her gaze on the beer can again as if she is searching for an answer in the ingredient list.
"Don't make me beg," I press out between my teeth "One chance, that's all I'm asking for."
After an excruciatingly long moment, Misato slowly nods "I think we can justify running you through some tests. If you perform well enough I can put you back on the roster.
As for Unit-02: I can't promise anything but sometimes budgets don't end up in the place they were intended for. Subcontractors get hired and they hire other subcontractors—a real nightmare for accounting departments if you know what I mean. I'll have Takashima work out a schedule."
"Takashima?" I raise an eyebrow. That name rings a bell but I can't place it.
"Shinji didn't mention her?" Misato rolls her eyes "You two should work on your communication."
Fat chance.
"Captain Takashima is currently in charge of the Evangelion program. She's young but plenty competent. You'll like her." Now it clicks. Back then I didn't give it much attention but I've seen her on TV, standing next to Shinji the day they announced the exclusion zone around NERV HQ. "She'll contact you once the preparations are complete. Until then I want you to relax. And please think about what I've said. This world doesn't need more Evangelion Pilots."
I vacantly grab for my water and take a sip to get rid of the chalk in my throat. Suddenly I feel empty and tired.
"Tell you what," Misato says "Why don't you take a bath while I'll get this mess cleaned up and organize something to eat? "
"Okay, " I press out, grab my backpack and flee into the bathroom.
I find myself sitting on the tiled floor, knees drawn close, breathing heavy, while the bathtub fills with steaming water. The hollow in my gut is back and threatens to devour me. I don't know what's happening to me. Everything could have turned out so much worse and yet it's like I'm about to dissolve.
Your mission is over. This World doesn't need more Evangelion pilots. Misato's words drum through my skull like high yield plasma charges. They sound so awfully wrong that I want to scream.
With shaking hands, I swallow one of the white pills, undress, and slide into the warm water. Slowly my nerves start to untangle. I close my eye and suddenly I see Shinji in front of me.
You are the strongest person on this planet, he smiles. Not this strange, fake smirk but the warm, genuine one. The one I like to think was reserved for me.
A warm feeling spreads in my stomach. At least there is someone who still believes in me. Even if it is the most frustrating person I've ever met. But he's right.
I am strong and I've been through much worse. This is just another challenge I have to face. I'll show Misato that you don't bench Asuka Soryu Langley.
Thirty minutes later and somewhat renewed I slip back into the kitchen. I'm confronted with a sight that's equally unexpected and depressing.
The empty beer cans have vanished. In their place, a few blue and yellow balloons have been taped to a chair and two steaming bowls now stand on the table. Above them, a word band dangles from the ceiling.
"Welcome home," I whisper.
"I tried to organize a small welcome party for you," Misato scoffs, still staring at her unopened beer. "Seems like I can't even get this right anymore."
I sit down and we eat in silence. As soon as I'm finished I excuse myself. Misato nods and lights a cigarette. She's probably as relieved as I am that this evening is finally over. Whatever crude dynamic we might have had, it left this place when Shinji moved out.
Standing in front of the door to my room, a thought runs through my head. I turn around.
"How´d you manage to scare him away?"
Misato sucks on her cigarette and stares at the ceiling.
"Don´t tell me that's classified too."
She exhales without haste then she turns her head to face me.
"No, it's not," she says "I just don't want to talk about it."
I'm fangs out, temperature sub-zero, sweat dripping. Pivot, cut and spear. White turns red. Vultures plunge. Someone screams.
I shoot up. My heart pounds against my ribcage and sweat runs cold on my back. Instinctively I lean forward to reach for the PCA-Remote but my hand just grabs into the sweaty air. Slowly I realize that I'm not lying in a hospital bed. My shaking hand runs over my face and I take a few deep breaths to steady myself as the events of the day seep back into my mind.
Sure as hell, my arm starts to pulse. Fortunately, I had the foresight to place my pillbox on my nightstand, just in arms reach. I pop two pills each. Some nights I can get through without them but this isn't one of those. It will take some time for them to do their magic and until then I don't even have to think about going back to sleep.
I grab my phone and fall back onto my bed while holding the power button. The home screen comes up and a blue glow fills the room. My heart drops a little when I see that there are no new messages waiting for me. It's not like I expected someone to message me but still—
I open the messenger anyway.
Hikari´s name makes the top of my contact list. I tap her entry and have already started typing when I see the small text next to her name. Last online 14 months ago. I sigh and close the feed. My eye slides to the next name on the list and my stomach drops a little further. I guess there's no sense in writing a ghost.
With the swipe of my thumb, more entries fly by. On paper, those people are my family but that word's nothing but a big fat joke to them.
Why do I even keep their contacts? The scrollbar reaches the bottom and there he is, banished to the end of the list. Shinji's entry just reads "Third".
This stems from a time when I might have had a tiny, completely irrational crush on the guy, and giving him the courtesy of his full name in my contact list would have been an admittance of sorts. Looking back, that seems pretty childish. I should change it I guess. Golden Boy maybe? Has a nice ring to it. Hmm, we'll see about that.
I'm about to close the messenger but my thumb just keeps on hovering over his contact. What if it wasn't just a bad day and there is something wrong with him? He wouldn't tell me, wouldn't he? And what If he tried to tell me and I was just too stuck up to notice? Damit, now I'm worried.
Okay, okay relax. Just send him a message. That'll do the trick. But it's gotta be short and subtle. Something that lets him know that I'm worried without letting him know that I'm worried. Come on Soryu, you can do this. You're a genius after all.
Exactly forty-eight minutes and twenty-five rewrites later I'm satisfied with my creation and tap the send button. "Hey," the message pops up in his feed. Now all I have to do is—Before I can think further the message gets marked as read. Shit, shit, shit. I don't even have a follow-up yet. Why on earth is he awake?
I spend the next twenty minutes staring at the screen, while nervously biting my lower lip like the silly teenager Misato thinks I am. But Shinji doesn't answer and my mood sags with every additional minute. Technically Misato's right. Going by age I'm pretty much still a teenager but that doesn't explain why I´m so bummed out right now. I mean it's the goddamn middle of the night for christ's sake. Normal people sleep at this hour. Maybe Shinji's just gone back to sleep or he's busy or - Fuck, who cares.
I throw the phone into the corner of my room and bury my head deep into my pillow. If only there was a pill to make my stupid brain shut up.
Slowly the warm glow of the painkiller-sleeping-pill-mix spreads through my body. I should rather worry about myself than about Shinji. I'm sure tomorrow he'll apologize like ten times for not answering right away. I yawn.
Yeah, that's how it'll be. Everything will be fine.
AN:
I'll just pretend that people actually read this: Wow so this took way longer than I expected. Primarily because my life turned a little crazy and I barely find the time to write anymore. But I also struggled with this chapter and I'm very unhappy with how it turned out. So sorry for that. I'll definitely need to rewrite this once my life has somewhat settled.
Thanks again to all the kind people who commented. This community seems to be really nice but as always, criticism is appreciated. It's the only way to improve.
I have roughly 50.000 words of scenes outlined for the story, aiming for ~ 90.000 so there is still a lot to write and edit and even more to learn.