Notes: Chapter 5 is here, sooner than I expected! Thanks again to all the reviewers. Each one means a lot to me. I'm so glad people are actually following this story. It makes me happy. I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter!

Chapter 5: To Find

The first thing Aida Kensuke noticed upon returning home that evening was the extra pair of shoes by the door. He had never known either of his children to bring friends home for dinner. He wondered who this other person could be. Hearing an unfamiliar voice, Kensuke followed the sound of it into the living room.

"Asuka? Toji? Who's your-" He froze when he saw the girl in his living room. She looked just like… It was impossible. There was no way…. Kensuke knew he had to be mistaken, but she just… It had to be her. "Atsuko?" he ventured, cautiously.

Atsuko flushed slightly and smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Aida-san." She bowed in greeting.

Kensuke shook his head. "I don't believe it. It's really you. I mean, when I saw you, I knew there was no other way, but… wow…" He turned to his wife, who had just entered the room. "Is it really…?"

Hikari nodded. "All these years she was down in Wakayama and we never knew." She frowned. "Apparently, Shinji recently sent for her."

"Shinji." Kensuke sighed. "How is he, I wonder?"

Atsuko took a deep breath. "It's kind of a long story," she said, softly.

"Why don't we eat?" Hikari suggested. "I think there's a lot both of you can tell each other."

"I still can't believe our parents knew each other!" Asuka exclaimed. "It's like we were destined to become friends."

"More like you zeroed in for the kill," Toji muttered, prompting a kick under the table.

Atsuko turned to Kensuke, having begun to realize that there was no cause for alarm in what she had originally perceived as aggression between the two siblings. She had just related to Kensuke exactly what she had earlier told Hikari: about her early life in Hanazono and her first meeting with her father. "Aida-san," she asked him. "Can you tell me how you first met my parents?"

Kensuke smiled and took a sip of water. "We were in our second year of junior high, just like you three. Your father had just transferred to our class." Kensuke frowned. "It took some time for my friend Toji to warm up to him, but he eventually came around." He looked at Atsuko seriously. "Your father saved our lives, even after Toji had beaten him up for something that wasn't his fault. That's something I'll never forget."

Atsuko nodded. It was hard to imagine her father at her age and having friends, much less saving their lives. "He did?" she finally asked.

"Many times, actually," Hikari said, with a small smile. "Your mother did, too."

Kensuke nodded. "Your parents… Do you know what they did?" He couldn't believe that any child of Shinji and Asuka could have been raised without any knowledge of her parents' accomplishments.

Atsuko shook her head. "I know they worked for NERV. All my relatives did. My father still does."

Kensuke frowned. "Your parents fought Angels. They were Evangelion pilots."

Asuka's eyes widened. "Really? Atsuko-chan's parents were Eva pilots? That's so cool!"

Atsuko frowned. "They were? I thought…" She paused. Nothing she had been told all her life really conflicted with this new information. Why hadn't Fuyutsuki told her this? It sounded very important. "I didn't know," she finally said. "I really don't know anything." She shook her head.

Kensuke nodded. "We don't really know much either. Your parents didn't really like to talk about their work when they were with us. But we can certainly try to tell you at least a little."

"Thank you," Atsuko said. "I've always been curious."

"It's no problem," Kensuke replied. "I've been wondering what had happened to you for years. I'm just glad to be able to help you. Should I start from the beginning?"

Atsuko nodded. "Please do."

Misato frowned. It was probably better that Atsuko was eating dinner at a friend's house, as she had relayed two hours earlier over the telephone. It was already past six and Misato couldn't see any sort of dent being made in the pile of paperwork still before her. She hefted an overstuffed manila folder from the top of her inbox and dropped it in front of herself. She then hesitated upon noticing the attached memo:

NERV Internal Communiqué

To: Operations Division (M. Katsuragi)

From: Office of Director (S. Ikari)

CC: Technology Division (M. Ibuki), Office of Security (J. Inagawa), External Affairs Division (Y. Fujita)

Date: 2 June 2032

Misato cursed herself for neglecting this monstrosity of a folder for nearly three weeks.

RE: Security Clearance Application Approval (A. Ikari, Level 6)

To Whom It May Concern:

The Director (S. Ikari) has formally approved the Technology Division's (M. Ibuki's) application for security clearance on behalf of IKARI, Atsuko and has awarded the subject Level 6 clearance. A. Ikari has been entered into the Personnel Database and the Office of Security (J. Inagawa) is advised to take note of this fact and of the provided photograph. Formal identification information is forthcoming, pending A. Ikari's projected arrival date of 20 June 2032 & the Operations Division's (M. Katsuragi's) submission of the proper paperwork. Attached are specific instructions for each CC:

Technology Division (M. Ibuki):

(Here, close to ten lines of text had been blacked out.)

Operations Division (M. Katsuragi):

Return included forms to R. Tachibana by 25 June.

Stand by for further instructions.

Office of Security (J. Inagawa):

Return included forms to R. Tachibana by 25 June.

Make necessary updates to security precautions.

Add (blacked out) to list of forbidden individuals.

External Affairs Division (Y. Fujita):

Submit enclosed 95-HB forms to N. Asagiri (outside channels), CC to S. Ikari.

Stand by for further instructions.

Misato paused. Why in the world did Atsuko need Level 6 security clearance? And why had that clearance application been requested by Maya? Misato sighed and pulled out the first of three bulky packets held together by a straining rubber band. The paperwork was mostly ordinary forms, requiring information about Atsuko. She dropped the packet back on the desk. She needed to ask Atsuko most of this stuff. How was Misato supposed to know her blood type? Well, she had a few days to get that out of the way. Why had this task been delegated to her, anyway, especially three weeks ago?

Frowning, she decided that the best thing to do would be to get the most recent papers out of the way, lest she have a repeat performance of the previous folder. She reached for the item on top of the second pile, this time a thin manila envelope, securely closed, with the familiar "Eyes Only!" tape wrapped around it. Misato blinked. If this was really as urgent as it looked, it seemed unusual that it had just been dropped in her inbox. She checked the date stamped in the corner. June 21, 2032. It had been delivered that day. Misato ripped the tape off the envelope, untied the closure and dumped the contents onto her desk. The only thing in the envelope was a thin scrap of notepaper, barely the size of an index card. Misato noted the small, sharply-formed characters that covered the note and frowned.

Major Katsuragi, I hope this message finds you well. The mode of delivery for this message requires that it be written well in advance – I expect that you will receive this the day after the girl's arrival; I am writing close to a week before. I have selected you for this correspondence as I suspect you are one of very few people remaining from "the old days" who understand the dire consequences that may soon be brought about and can only hope I am wrong in my distrust of Ikari. I will not divulge here how this message reached you, only that if you are reading this, a very complicated chain of people must be on "our side". I trust that you are as well. Perhaps we ought to get our facts straight over a more secure line. There is a location three blocks east of headquarters where one can purchase a prepaid cell phone. Ask for Sanada. He will do the rest. I trust, Katsuragi, that we both have her best interests in mind.

- F.

Misato leaped to her feet and shrugged on her jacket, shoving the note into her pocket. This was more important than any paperwork. There was no way she was getting into anything without getting as much information as she could. This was just a little too weird.

"What happened next?" Asuka asked her father anxiously. He had just finished relating his point of view of the battle against the fourteenth Angel.

Kensuke shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Atsuko. We civilians were all permanently evacuated from the city. We were only permitted to return after NERV had determined that the Angel attacks had stopped. The city was rebuilt and life moved on." He frowned. "All I know of those few missing months is that Toji died and Ayanami Rei disappeared. Neither Shinji nor Asuka ever talked about it." He glanced at his wife, who nodded.

"We never pressed them, of course," she said. "When we gradated from junior high, none of the four of us really felt the need to go on to high school – I wanted to work to help support my sisters, Asuka already had a university degree and Shinji and Kensuke didn't see the need, either. I think the year between that and your birth brought the four of us closer together than we could ever hope to be. I was so glad to have the three of them. Kensuke and I married not long after you were born. We felt, and I think Shinji and Asuka did as well, that we had a concept of our own mortality. We were so young, but when you live through an experience like that… it doesn't matter. We felt as though if we didn't start a family right away, we'd lose the chance to God only knows what."

"But," Kensuke interjected, turning to his children, "I won't rest until you two have graduated from college."

"Jeez, Dad," Asuka moaned. "Don't hold us to such high standards unless you want to be disappointed."

Toji rolled his eyes, but Atsuko caught herself envying her friends for having a father who openly wished for their success.

"Thank you," she said, standing and bowing. "For dinner and for telling me everything. I should go. I told Misato-san I wouldn't be too long."

"It was nothing," Kensuke assured her. "We're glad to have you."

"Please come again," said Hikari. "We want to get to know you." She smiled sadly. "And we'd love to see Shinji sometime."

Atsuko smiled; she had just been reminded that she needed to get his signature on those papers by Wednesday. I'll go see him tomorrow after school, she vowed.

Asuka walked Atsuko to the front door. She clapped a hand on her new friend's shoulder. "Just stick with us, OK? If you need anything, we'll be there."

"Thank you," Atsuko said, gratefully. "I will."

Misato was glad to see that the cell phone store was still open, even though it was close to 7:30. As evidenced by the only clerk's expression when she entered, Misato was the first person to enter the small shop in quite a while.

"I'm looking for Sanada," she told the young man. "Are you him?"

He looked at her appraisingly. "Does he know you're coming?"

She paused. "I think so."

The clerk nodded and slowly made his way to the back of the store. Misato couldn't help wondering if he was one link in "long, complicated chain of people." Misato waited impatiently for a few minutes, when an older man approached the counter. He was carrying a small, brown paper bag. He wore a name badge that read "Sanada – Manager".

He nodded to her. "You must be Major Katsuragi."

"I am," she said, beginning to get the feeling that she was in the dark about something.

He nodded again and handed her the bag. "It's in there. It can only call one number. I suggest you call tomorrow morning. Before eight." Sanada paused. "Kozou trusts you, so I will, too. Consider me a friend." He jerked his head toward the door. "Don't do anything to make them suspicious. This depends on you. I don't want to say anymore here." He turned to go back into the back of the shop.

Misato frowned, beginning to get angry. "What's this all about?"

Sanada stopped, but did not turn around. "Ask the Professor. He's the only one who can tell you." He disappeared into the other room.

Misato sighed and headed for the door. What was she getting herself into now?

Shinji paced uneasily through his residence. He had retired early on the pretense of making preparations for an important visitor NERV would be receiving the following week. He supposed that was what he was doing, in a way. He sighed. I have eight days, he thought. Eight more days to get her back here before it all goes up in smoke.

He reached for the telephone, then hesitated and withdrew his hand. Would two calls in as many days just make her even less likely to accept? He frowned. He could not afford to be like this. He picked up the receiver and dialed.

Shinji knew from experience that Ritsuko was more responsive if he personally made the call, rather than doing it through Rika. As he settled himself down on the couch in his study, he wondered if doing it in the evening, rather than during office hours would also have a better effect.

"Good evening, Commander Ikari." Ritsuko's voice was polite, but cold. Exactly what he had been expecting. Shinji adopted the opposite – a warm and casual tone.

"Ah, what betrayed me this time, Dr. Akagi?"

Shinji could practically hear Ritsuko's smirk. "Caller ID. You're the only person with an unlisted number who would ever call me."

He laughed. "At least you answered this time."

"Maybe I'm just bored."

"Maybe I am, too."

"I'm not coming back," she said, quickly.

"Oh, really? You know NERV can get you anything. Anything at all."

"You have nothing I need, Shinji."

He paused. "That may be true," he acknowledged, slowing his tone. "But it isn't human nature to desire only what one needs. You forget I have at my disposal every resource my father had and then some. I can get you everything you have ever wanted." He smirked. "Except my father's heart, of course."

"You are an incorrigible bastard."

He chuckled. "Don't forget: I learned from the master."

"If you think this will get me back, you must be mad."

"How long can you live on speaking engagements, Ritsuko?" Shinji asked, bluntly.

"Long enough," she said coldly.

Shinji laughed and stretched out on the sofa. "But speaking engagements can be so… unreliable… And people are so afraid of the littlest things." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "It would be a shame if they were to… stop."

Ritsuko froze. "You wouldn't."

"Who are you to tell me what I would and wouldn't do? And who's to say it would be me? It's not my fault if some reporter or university official is looking up information on you and finds…well… something interesting."

"You are disgusting."

Shinji laughed. "As if you're any better. But nobody has to know that. All we have to do is talk. 0900 tomorrow, say? We'll have tea. It'll be nice. Like old times. You know where to find me."

Shinji winced as Ritsuko slammed the receiver down. "I'll take that as a yes," he said to no one in particular.

The NERV director stood and stretched. He found his thoughts wandering back to the girl. What in the world had ever possessed him to send for her, now of all times? He shook his head and sighed. He'd gotten himself out of worse situations before, and he did trust Misato to do what was best, at least for the moment. Shinji sat down at his desk and reached for a stack of papers. If Ritsuko really was coming the next day, he would have to be prepared. He made a mental note to alert Inagawa to make an emergency exception for Ritsuko. It would be a pity to lose someone so important just when he thought he had her back in his grasp, especially to his trigger-happy head of security. Jiro was good, but he couldn't read minds, and his judgment left much to be desired.

Shinji's eyes came to rest on the framed photograph he kept on the shelf above his desk. He studied it carefully, as he often did, trying to find a connection between himself and the uncomfortable-looking fifteen-year-old in the picture. The boy and the grinning redhead who clung to his arm seemed as though they had lived an entire lifetime ago. Shinji rubbed his eyes and asked himself, not for the first time, why he still kept that thing above his desk. Reaching up, with the practiced ease of an oft-repeated gesture, he turned the picture facedown on the shelf and got to work.

TBC in Chapter 6: To Try