"Say what you will about the Eruption and all that came with it, but verdammt has it been good for business." Dr Schaff, practicing psychiatrist in Dresden.

XXV

The apartment's door slid shut behind him. He was "home."

Nonchalantly, Shinji observed the Emperor Penguin amble through the kitchen, a beer can under its wing. The two had reached an equitable relationship, in so far as they used the toilet at separate times to not scare each other half to death at the crack of dawn.

A working relationship…with a bird. Shinji laughed under his breath and dropped his bag on the sofa. Pouring himself a glass of water, he noticed a ripped piece of paper covered in frantic scribbles left on the kitchen table. He picked it up.

"Shinji-kun. Have to work an extra few hours today. Should be home at about eight-ish. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge but stay away from my drinks's cabinet. I always do a head count! XXX.

Shinji sighed and shook his head.

Preposterous woman.

He downed the glass in one go, then let himself drop on the sofa. It was as if all his energy had dissipated as the cheap leather enveloped him. Dirty cutlery filled the sink, and clothes littered the floor like a battlefield, but it could wait.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink further into the sofa.

Thoughts of his current predicament, of the war he was trapped in, of his ever-confusing relationship with his father, of the cruel echo of his mother, fought for supremacy in his mind. With tremendous effort he was able to force them down for just a little while. Long enough for a little peace for his weary soul.

As he lay there, his ears were occasionally tickled by Pen-pen shuffling around. For such a massive creature, he did have to strain his ears sometimes to hear him. For all Shinji knew, the bird could be right next to him.

He cracked open one of his eyes.

Nope, penguin's at the table.

The bird sat there, with opened beer can in one wing and a newspaper laid out before him.

I'm going back to sleep.

He let his eyes close.

A few hours later they snapped open again. As ever, that disappearing back at the train platform clouded his mind. A child's phantom wail rang through his ears.

'Daddy don't go! What did I do wrong!? Daddy!'

A tear already trickled down his cheek. Shinji growled and rubbed it away. Bleary vision clearing, he realised Pen-pen stood next to him. Shinji's head jerked back.

The bird breathed as loudly as ever but fixed its beady black eyes on him.

"What do you want?" Shinji growled and made sure to wipe away any trace of salt from his eyes. "Are you hungry?"

The bird tilted its head, then flopped on his lap and did its best to snuggle into his belly.

Naturally, Shinji flinched. Aside from the mass of a metre tall Emperor penguin hitting him like a cannon ball, such an open and unexpected show of affection caught him off guard. Slowly, Shinji flexed his fingers then stroked the bird's back. Pen-pen snuggled in just that bit more.

Shinji gently laughed. "Silly bird."

Time passed, but Shinji wasn't sure how much till his phone rang. He flipped it open, saw the number was Misato's, and answered.

"Good evening, Katsuragi-san."

"Heh, 'good'." Misato breathed, the sound of her footsteps echoing against concrete. "I'm on my way home now. Should be with you in half an hour."

Shinji blinked in surprise then looked up at the clock. It was dead on 8:00pm. He'd had a bit more than forty winks.

"Sounds like you had a busy day?" He said.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it. Two extra hours for stupid fucking paperwork."

Shinji smiled a little. "Alright then. See you soon…"

"We've…er…" Misato mouthed between breaths, although genuine hesitance filtered in. "We've something to talk about when I get back."

She'll want to talk about Gimu. His smile dropped.

"We do. Safe journey home, Katsuragi-san." He hit the end call button and pocketed the phone.

Gently removing Pen-pen from his belly, Shinji stood up and started to give the apartment a quick clean. It wasn't nearly enough, but he didn't have long. Clothes and dishes came first and foremost. He'd only just finished when Misato walked through the door.

"I'm home!" She said tiredly but truthfully. Then, as he had done, she made her way into the lounge and collapsed on the sofa. Pen-pen joyfully waddled over to her and hopped on her lap.

"You look exhausted." Shinji said, gently putting crockery away in the cupboard.

"Tell me about it." She rubbed her eyelids but spared a hand to ruffle Pen-pen's head. "You've got all this to look forward to one day, Shinji-kun. Just make sure the bastards pay overtime…" Misato was already halfway through waving her hand when Shinji put a beer can in it. She muttered a quick "thanks."

"Well, they don't pay me for going to school." He said.

"They should!" Misato said earnestly. "School's crap and doesn't teach you anything about the real world. The only good thing about it is making friends…" She abruptly tailed off.

Misato had asked him a few times if he were making any friends at school, and got the same response: a flat "no."

Having no desire to think about school, Shinji made for the kitchen to finish off putting cutlery away. He was about to ask what Misato would like for dinner, before he felt an atmosphere descend.

"So…" Misato shifted uncomfortably.

Here it comes.

"I hear you had to be called to the CEO's office today. Something about a falling out with Ayanami-san?"

"Yes…" Shinji found his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. "I've already apologised."

"To her?"

"To my father."

"That's not the same thing, Shinji-kun."

"How? I doubt that thing even knows how to be offended."

Misato raised an eyebrow, as if not taking him seriously which just annoyed Shinji all the more. He found himself slamming cutlery into its draw with uncharacteristic force.

Misato sighed. "Well, Rits-chan is livid so you'd best keep out of her way."

Ah yes, I'd forgotten about that. An image of the blonde woman looking down her nose at him, as if she wanted to dissect him, came to mind.

"Why does she care?" Shinji said. "Did she help make it-"

"Her, Shinji-kun." Misato shook her head. "I know you don't really think these things. You're just pissed off with your old man and taking it out on anyone unlucky enough." She stood up and brushed herself down a bit.

"Ayanami-san creeps me out too, but she didn't choose to be created. She didn't choose to be raised in a lab and have the social skills of a teaspoon." Misato's tone saddened a bit. "She must be terribly lonely."

Shinji's fist balled. He gritted his teeth and lowered his head.

"Look, I get it. What I did was out of order. It doesn't matter what I feel about Ayanami, I had no right to do that. I'll try to avoid her more in future so that doesn't happen again. Is that enough?"

"I guess it'll have to be." Misato said. Clearly it wasn't. "I'm going to have shower."

The evening passed quickly. A wall of silence descended between the two. Even Pen-pen noted it and waddled off to his freezer to escape, a mug of hot coco in hand.

There was little to say. Shinji knew it was entirely his fault, but he couldn't force his cold attitude to drop. He simply did housework which sometimes brought him past Misato reading magazines on the sofa.

She's disappointed in me. He felt his heart sink a little, as he found an odd sock that looked to have been hiding under a drawer for months. Had to happen eventually, I suppose. I'm good at disappointing people. That and…he looked over his shoulder at his guardian. Misato continued doing her usual business of leisure, but with a frown etched into her beautiful features.

she doesn't know what to do with me.

The clock finally ticked past a reasonable hour. Shinji wished Misato good night and made his way to his room. He let his rand rest on the door as he took in that sign she'd put there a few days ago.

"Shinji's lovely suite."

Not so lovely when you get to know me, am I? He thought back to a middle-aged man, full of self-righteousness, who never missed an opportunity to twist the knife.

"The world is a greedy and cruel place boy. Therefore, as a creature of it, squatting in its material filth, so are you. It says so in the scriptures." The words clanged through his head.

Right as usual, eh sensei?

He entered, changed into his pyjamas, then fell into bed. Always his conscience nagged, that he could have handled it better, that he could have explained just how much Ayanami unsettled him. Even further still, it reminded him that he hadn't had to lash out in a moment of blind anger and hit a girl.

This was all his doing.

Shinji tossed and turned in the darkness of his bedroom, a part of him uneasy due to the lack of sounds outside his door, of the thump of people moving on the floor above him. Eventually he closed his eyes, only for them, as always, to snap open a few hours later. He sat up and massaged his sweaty brow.

He'd dreamed of Chinese guns again.

They aren't real. The war's been over for years. Breathe.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, balling his fist tightly.

Just as his mother had shown him.

Why can't I have dreams about you? He ran a hand through his hair. What do I do, mother?

Getting no answer, and not expecting one, he threw back the sheets and got out of bed. With a dream like that, sleep would be elusive for a while. He walked through to the kitchen to make himself a hot tea, only to find Misato asleep on the sofa. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a snore, whilst her left hand touched the cross around her neck. An empty can of beer sat in her other hand.

Shinji snuck past. Boiling the kettle as quietly as possible, he made his tea then tried to creep back to his room.

Misato stirred. Usually her drunken mumbling did not warrant any attention, but he had to pause at the sound of this.

It was no intoxicated garble. It sounded like the whimper of a frightened child.

Shinji turned to see Misato unconsciously shift, the grip of both her hands tightening. Her chest rose and fell that bit quicker.

"F-father…" She jerked awake, blinking blearily for a moment before she saw Shinji.

"Shinji-kun." She stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. "How long have you been there?"

"I just came in." He lied. "Needed a drink."

She studied him for a moment, as if unsure to believe. She squinted through still half-asleep eyes and yawned for good measure.

"What are you doing up at this hour? I know teenagers are nocturnal but-"

"I was thirsty." He lied. His nightmares were his and his alone.

Misato tightened her grip around her cross as she staired off into nothing.

"Do you need a drink?" Shinji asked.

"Get me a beer."

Shinji knew what to say. That alcohol was no solution for whatever she had. That it only suppressed then made the memories come back all the worse. That men living in the gutters of Kure had liquified their brains to drink away what they'd seen in the war, or the years after the Eruption.

Except they'd failed. The memories drove them mad all the same.

Shinji kept his mouth shut and fetched Misato a can.