Author's Note: July 19, 2020
We're back!
Well, no. Not exactly. "Part 2" of this story is taking a lot longer than I expected, so to tide people over until then I wanted to put out an "interlude" of sorts. There were a couple of smaller story ideas I was interested in exploring that I realized didn't make for very interesting "episodes," so I decided to gather them all in a single update.
Please enjoy, and be patient! I'll finish the other chapters eventually.
Colder winds bite as they brush past your face.
The last leaves fall from the trees, leaving barren branches in their wake.
Change is in the air. And with that change comes the last days of autumn in Tokyo-3.
Episode 10: The Last Days of Autumn
Asuka
She is having trouble sleeping.
Sometimes it's the nightmares. The sensation of being torn limb from limb. The intense feeling of loss in those final months before the end of the world. The fear of the house collapsing around her and finding herself buried under a pile of rubble with no hope of rescue.
But more often than not, it's her arm.
She does not know what happened. It never bothered her when she first returned. But something happened after her accident. She woke up one night with a searing pain running down the length of her entire right arm. In a near hallucinatory daze, she tried to crawl out of bed to reach the painkillers on the dresser—thankfully, Misato had chosen to sleep in her room that night, and woke up in time to stop her from doing anything stupid.
She refused to tell Misato what happened. She wasn't sure she understood it herself. The next day she snuck in an extra dose of the painkillers just to be sure. It made her stomach churn, but she thought it worked…until the next night, when the pain in her arm came back in full force.
She's trained herself to ignore if it starts hurting during the day. But at night it's much worse. At night she feels a line of pure agony running from her hand all the way to her shoulder.
She tries to distract herself so she can muster the energy to fall asleep. She thinks about the good things from her life before Third Impact, before her injury.
Unit 02? Well…her feelings on that are a little complicated now.
Shinji? Still complex.
Kaji—oh, no, she's not even touching that one.
Okay, she's thinking smaller now.
Freshly cooked pork cutlets. Twice fried, with some rice and black sesame seeds.
Whenever she gets access to pork, she'll make Shinji cook it for her.
Wait…nononono, she will cook it for herself. What, like she needs Shinji to do everything for her?
Having breakfast around a table. With people she can actually tolerate being around. Before everything fell apart. Before you were neglected. Before you were rejected. Before—
Don't think about what happened next. Just focus on the good.
A trip to the hair salon.
Reading a really well-written book.
Eating out.
Seeing a movie.
Watching TV.
Laughter.
She remembers laughter.
When was the last time she genuinely laughed?
When was the last time she felt happy?
Was it doing any of the things that she thinks were good things?
"You never know what you have until it's gone."
She dwells on this for some time.
The pain subsides. For now.
She feels tired once more.
She closes her eyes.
She will wake up in an hour and start all over again.
Ritsuko
"Listen here, Ritsuko. I'm… still not sure how I feel about having you in the same house as them. But like Shinji said—for now, it's in the past. Right now we should be focused on survival…"
She was plagued by the distinct feeling that she was not welcome in this house.
It wasn't outright feelings of hostility. Shinji was nice: when he wasn't in the greenhouse or hanging out with Asuka he was happy to chat with Ritsuko every chance he got. Asuka was neutral—they had never been particularly close, but she was on some level grateful to Ritsuko for fixing her leg and guiding her rehabilitation, so they kept things friendly. Misato, who had been the most hostile at the start, eased up—she knew Ritsuko was making an honest effort, and that she otherwise had nowhere to go.
But even with that knowledge, Ritsuko felt unwelcome. She got the impression that Shinji and Asuka were kind to her because they had no reason to be rude to a roommate—and that was what she was, a roommate. And though Misato kept the outright hostilities to a minimum, she was not in the mindset to simply forgive and forget everything Ritsuko had done back at NERV.
Every day there was at least one occurrence where Misato would make it clear she held Ritsuko responsible for hurting her kids. Sometimes it was prompted by Ritsuko making a comment on how they were so different from how she remembered—Misato would be quick to remind her who was at fault. Sometimes it was completely unprompted—they would be alone and Misato would say something snarky. Once she went so far as to claim she was tempted to take the kids and run away, as she should have done a long time ago.
In these moments Ritsuko would curse Commander Ikari or Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki for not returning so Misato could take out her anger on them. Instead, she was there to pick up the pieces.
Ritsuko missed feeling needed. What was she contributing to the household? Shinji had the greenhouse, Misato did the hunting, Asuka was… mostly out of commission, but still doing chores like folding laundry in her spare time. What was Ritsuko doing? She was helping Asuka's recovery, sure, but that wasn't a daily task. It was almost like she was a live-in doctor, and that wasn't exactly the most stimulating of activities.
It began three days after she tried to leave.
She was quietly eating in the kitchen with the rest of them when she saw Shinji start his daily broadcast.
Shinji had been spending longer amounts of time by the radio during his free time—he did not want to miss another broadcast from their unknown caller. It had gotten to the point that he was usually reluctant to do anything else, including eating his breakfast. He only left when Misato literally dragged him back to the table. After that he returned to his task.
Ritsuko watched as he remained at the radio for most of the morning, until Asuka basically demanded his company. When that happened, Ritsuko offered to take over listening to the radio. He let her.
She sat down in front of the radio and began the transmission.
"To anyone listening: this is Tokyo-3, attempting to make contact with any Returned from Third Impact. Can anyone hear me, over?"
Silence.
"This is Tokyo-3. We are a small group of survivors, attempting to make contact with any Returned. Can you hear me, over?"
Silence.
"Tokyo-3, can anyone hear me, over?"
And she listened. No sound.
Shinji did not come back for a bit. When he did, he relieved her of her duty and went back to watching the radio. But she sat nearby, curiously listening as well.
The next day Misato got Shinji away from the radio for long enough to talk about their winter food supply plans. When it became clear that Shinji would have to spend most of the day in the greenhouse, Ritsuko quickly volunteered to monitor the radio for the day in his place.
"This is Tokyo-3, broadcasting on all open channels. Is anybody listening?"
The next day Shinji came downstairs and was very surprised to see Ritsuko sitting at the radio. He offered to take her place but she politely declined.
"Tokyo-3 to any of the Returned, can you hear me?"
The day after that she was back at the radio, listening in. When Shinji saw this, he said nothing.
"Tokyo-3, can anyone hear me?"
This was her purpose in this household. She was now their communications operator. The radio broadcaster.
At the radio, she was doing something helpful, but she was also blending into the scenery. Shinji would give her a "hi" and Misato might notice her when she spoke, but here she could simply disappear into the room. She wasn't bothering anyone, and she was still doing something that benefitted the house.
And that made her feel happier.
Even though she still didn't feel welcome.
Shinji
Shinji brushed the dirt off the potato and did a cursory look around for any spots he missed. Seeing none, he dropped it into the bucket.
It was getting colder, and Misato said that chances were high they might see some snow in the coming weeks. Shinji had never seen real snow before—to him, snow meant the holidays and snowmen and snowballs and such. To Asuka, who had grown up in Germany, snow meant dreary cold days year-round.
Ritsuko and Misato, however, remembered seasons from before Second Impact, and therefore knew what precautions to take. So Shinji's task was ensuring they had a good supply of vegetables.
He picked up his trowel and was about to dig for another potato when he happened to glance over at the small flowerpot he had set up on the workbench. He stood up and looked at it.
He put on the wide-brimmed hat he had found and began his trek through town. This was his daily ritual—he would set out after breakfast to search for any signs of life. He would begin at the shoreline, walking along the beach looking for the bodies of anyone who were brought in with the tides. Then he would walk through the streets of the suburbs, occasionally calling out at the empty buildings and grabbing any supplies he thought would be useful, before looping back along the shoreline and returning to the house in time for lunch.
Each morning he would think, Today will be the day I find someone. Today someone will appear, and I won't be alone anymore.
But this possibility seemed to decrease with each day.
On an impulse, he grabbed a rock he saw lying on the ground and threw it into the distance. He watched it land harmlessly a few meters away. He approached it, picked it up, and threw it again. It landed a little further along than the previous throw.
He was about to pick it up and repeat the task when something caught his eye—a brief flash of purple. Puzzled, he walked over to some nearby bushes to discover something he hadn't expected to see, something that seemed very much out of place in these suburban ruins.
A single, blooming flower.
He cautiously knelt down next to it and gently cupped the bulb. This flower had bloomed recently. How that was possible was beyond him—he couldn't imagine what Third Impact had done to the carbon cycle. But the flower was alive and well.
How long would that last? It hadn't rained once since he got here. That wasn't natural, he knew that much. Could this flower survive the Japanese summer out in the wild like this? What if some animal got to it?
No, this wouldn't do. So he sprinted back home, grabbed a flower pot and a trowel, and ran back to the flower. After some careful digging, he placed the flower into the pot and gently carried it back to the greenhouse.
He placed it on a workbench where it could get some light and watered the soil.
He knew this flower wasn't going to be in bloom forever. But now he had something to take care of in his spare time.
It looked healthy. The soil was well-maintained, there didn't seem to be any discoloration on the leaves. This was, by his reckoning, a looked-after plant.
But perhaps he was giving himself a little too much credit, because it hadn't bloomed. He'd been caring for it for months, and it still wasn't blooming. And that was starting to annoy him.
Apparently Asuka's impatience was contagious.
Shinji opened the door to the greenhouse to be greeted by a surprising sight. "Asuka?"
She whirled around. "Just wanted to see what you had going on in here," she said. "Don't let me stop you."
Shinji blinked. Asuka had been back for a few days, but he still wasn't used to seeing someone in spaces he associated with his solitude. After shaking it off, he shrugged and walked over to one of the planters to start his daily routine.
Asuka watched quietly for a bit before looking at some of the other plants. Her gaze stopped on the flowerpot. "What's this?" she asked.
"It's a flower," Shinji replied.
"I can see that, you moron, but what kind is it?"
"I'm not sure, but it's a nice purple when it blooms."
"Huh."
Shinji returned to tending to his crops. But when he happened to glance over again he was surprised to see Asuka was still staring at the flower. "Uh…Asuka?"
"GAH!" Asuka jumped. "Oh, uh… was just…" she looked down and muttered something.
"What was that?"
"I said I was waiting for it to bloom!" she said, embarrassed.
Shinji laughed. "Give it time." He walked over and handed the watering can to Asuka. "You just need to be patient with it."
Asuka stared at Shinji for a moment before turning back to the flower. She looked at the watering can in her hand and carefully poured it over the flower.
"Let me know when it blooms," she said. "I want to see." She put the watering can down and quietly left the greenhouse.
Shinji picked up the watering can and sprinkled some onto the flower.
"Hurry up," he said quietly.
Misato
Aim.
Fire.
Squirrel drops dead.
Eject the shell.
Scan.
There's its buddy.
Aim.
Fire.
Squirrel drops dead.
Squirrels are food.
Squirrels are food for Shinji and Asuka.
And Ritsuko, I guess.
Pick up the squirrels.
Lay them out on the log.
Go to your duffel.
Grab a can.
Crack it open.
Imbibe.
Savor.
Don't think about the fact that you're hiding your drinking from Shinji and Asuka.
Don't think about it.
Do not think about it.
Don't you fucking dare—
Discard.
Go back to your spot.
Sit down.
Scan.
Scan.
Scan.
…
RABBIT!
Aim.
Fi—
Wait.
Hey, don't move.
Hey.
Hey!
Hey, don't—! Goddammit.
Okay. Rabbit got away.
Back to scanning.
Scan.
Another squirrel.
Aim.
Fire.
Squirrel drops dead.
Scan.
Scan.
RABBIT AGAIN!
FI—
No, stop—stop moving!
Oh what the hell. Fire.
...Missed?
How did I miss?
Stupid rabbit—hold still!
Where are you going—oh fuck it!
Stand up, run after it.
Wait. It's gone into that hole.
Bend down.
Look in.
…
…
RABBIT—no…BUNNIES.
THEY'RE CUTE.
OH GOD WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE CUTE.
There's Mother Rabbit.
She's staring at me.
What is she thinking?
"Eh, what's up doc?"
She doesn't answer. Of course not, she's a Japanese bunny, she doesn't speak English.
You're talking to what was going to be your dinner.
You were about to kill a mother—
No. No, don't think about it. You're fending for yourself in this world.
But then again, so is this rabbit.
Look at the dead squirrels.
Eh, that's enough shooting for today.
"You get a pass today, rabbit. But you'd better stay out of my way, or you and your kids might not be so lucky."
She stares at me.
Huh. Guess she doesn't speak Japanese, either.
Ritsuko looked up as Misato came in. "You're back early. What'd you get?"
"5 squirrels and some kind of bird."
"Just... a generic bird?"
"I think it's a pigeon?"
"No rabbits today?"
"…nah."
Act 2
Home Sweet Home
"This is Tokyo-3 broadcasting on all channels. Does anyone copy, over?"
Silence.
Ritsuko had been at it for a week, and nothing had changed. No response, no stray broadcast. Every hour she would run through the various broadcasts, trying to catch something from any frequency. But the entire world was radio silent.
It seemed unfathomable. They knew someone else was out there, so why weren't there more radio broadcasts?
"Ms. Ritsuko?"
She jumped, looking up in time to see Shinji standing before her with a towel over his hand. "Yes, Shinji?"
"Do you know where the first aid kit is? I cut myself while I was gardening."
"Oh, sure. Come on—it's in my room."
Shinji followed her upstairs and into her room. He watched as she went for a drawer and began rummaging through some things.
While this was happening, he hazarded a look around the room. A week had passed since her return, but were it not for the fact that Ritsuko was standing right there, he could imagine no one lived in this room. The bed only had a loose blanket on it, there were no loose items of clothing anywhere, even the bookshelves were completely empty. When he first found the house, Shinji had moved most of the books on the upper floors into boxes to keep them safe—when they'd finished restoring the roof he'd left the boxes out in the hallway for people to claim things for their shelves. As far as he knew, Ritsuko was the only one who hadn't taken anything.
"Here we are," Ritsuko held up the small red kit, only to notice Shinji's gaze. "Interior design's not my thing," she explained.
"Maybe some books?" Shinji suggested as he took the first aid kit and started treating his cut. "Or posters? To spruce the place up a little?"
Ritsuko laughed. "It's a bedroom, Shinji. I just sleep in here, I don't need to bother with any decorations."
Shinji looked over at the windows. Ritsuko had a good view of the sun for most of the day, and that ledge looked large enough that he could place something on there.
"Could you come with me for a second?"
"Where are we going?"
"The greenhouse. I want to show you something."
Ritsuko stared at the plant. "What is it?"
"Well, I know it's a flower, but I'm not sure what kind. It's purple when it blooms though."
"When did it last bloom?"
"…well, I guess it would have been around January or February."
"A winter flower." Ritsuko poked the bulb. "Might be some kind of peony. Definitely looks like it could bloom any day now."
"It looks really nice when it does," Shinji replied. "Maybe it'll look nice in your bedroom."
Ritsuko looked at Shinji. "Really?"
"Yeah. You can water it, give it fertilizer. It'll put some life in your room."
Ritsuko thought about it, then laughed. "That's very nice of you, Shinji, but I can't accept this."
"Why not?"
Ritsuko opened her mouth to reply, but she hesitated. Why not? "Shinji, I'm only staying in the house until the end of winter at most. I'm here on a temporary basis, growing flowers in my room is kind of… permanent."
"Speaking of permanent, you've been glued to the radio for a week."
This kid had some decent backtalk. "Well, long as I'm here I'm trying to be useful."
"I tried that, you know."
"Tried what?"
"Doing something because I thought I was being useful. It… didn't turn out so well."
He had a point. "Shinji, this is your flower. Anyway, it's just a bedroom."
Shinji shrugged. "I don't know. I never felt good when I was sleeping somewhere I didn't like. All those times I woke up in an unfamiliar room—I always felt out of place. Maybe your room needs that little spark of life."
Ritsuko stared at the flower. Back in the day, the only thing she took care of at home was her cat. Her cat which she gave away because she was neglecting it, and it subsequently died under someone else's care.
She hadn't had much time to mourn that cat. It happened right before everything truly went to shit.
"Well…" What the hell. "Okay."
Shinji smiled as Ritsuko gently picked up the flowerpot. "Water it twice a day, make sure it stays in the sun," he explained. "And let me know when it blooms, I want to see."
For the next few days, Ritsuko would check on the flower every morning before heading down to breakfast and taking up her position at the radio, and once more before going to bed. On the second day, after noticing it starting to wilt slightly, she moved it to the other window sill where she thought it would get more sunlight. When she noticed the next day that it looked much the same, she decided to come back at lunchtime to change its position so it could get as much sun as possible during the day.
On the fourth day, she woke up feeling oddly…cheerful. She hazarded a glance over at the windowsill…
"SHINJI!"
After a few seconds Shinji came stumbling in. "What is it?!"
"Look!"
Sure enough, the flower's bulb was just opening with the morning sun. Shinji and Ritsuko walked over to the window sill and stared at it.
"A winter peony," Ritsuko said in awe.
"Let's take this downstairs! I promised Asuka I'd show it to her when it bloomed!" Shinji turned for the door, only to stop when he noticed Ritsuko was still staring at the flower.
Ritsuko realized she was being watched and quickly but gently picked up the flowerpot. "It really is unbelievable."
"That's what I thought," Shinji replied. "When I saw it. The world seemed so hopeless, but… this flower was blooming. It made me feel like everything would be okay." And with that, he sprinted out the door. "HEY ASUKA!"
Ritsuko looked down at the little flower in her hands. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, maybe everything will be." And with a slight smile, she followed Shinji out of her room.
Musicianship
Asuka was running out of distractions.
In a bid to stop her arm from bothering her, she tried to keep her hands occupied during the day. She'd tried origami, but after getting a papercut decided this wasn't an appropriate hobby for her situation. Then she tried playing video games, but it made her thumbs hurt.
She glanced over at the comic book on her nighstand. She'd gone so far as to start writing fanfiction—it made sense, since she wanted to put her own spin on the story. But when she showed it to Shinji—
"Well?" she asked.
"Well what?" he asked.
"Well how is it?"
"It's good."
Pause. "…don't you have anything more constructive to say?"
"Well…I'm not sure how I feel about…how you're in it."
"What? I'm not in it."
"…you literally named her 'Akusa.'"
"So the name sounds similar, what gives?"
"It says right here she's a fiery red-head with an attitude!"
"EEEEHHH?! Just what are you implying, Shinji?!"
"Ack! I just meant—"
"I don't have an attitude you little—HEY! Get back here so I can kill you!"
So yeah, that hadn't gone well. She'd thought about showing him the other one she wrote, but… no, he might get some inappropriate ideas.
She was in the middle of reluctantly reaching for her notebook to attempt to continue her fanfiction when she heard a knock at the door. "Yeah?" she asked.
"It's me, can I come in?" Misato's voice called from outside.
"Sure."
The door opened and Misato came in carrying something. "I got a present for you while I was out today."
"If it's a squirrel I don't want it."
"A—what? No, not a squirrel. This!" She ran over and gently placed a large case on Asuka's lap.
Asuka immediately recognized the shape. She quickly opened it. "A violin?" she asked, stunned.
"I know you've been kind of bored these past few days, so I thought this might cheer you up."
Asuka picked up the violin by the fingerboard and stared at it. "I haven't played a violin in ages," she said. "I'm probably out of practice."
"Well, you know how you get to Carnegie Hall?"
"…I don't know what that is."
"It's a…never mind, it's an American expression. The point is, maybe it's a post-Third Impact hobby you can do. I mean, Shinji's gardening, I'm hunting, Ritsuko's…doing her thing, so maybe you can play the violin."
Asuka blinked. She looked at the violin. Misato had a point. This was something she could work at for a while. Plus, it kept her hand occupied. "Well, okay," she said finally with a slight smile. "Thanks."
There was a long silence.
"Uh…"
"Oh, I was just… I wanted to watch you play it."
Asuka looked at the violin. "I'm out of practice, I kind of want some time with it before—"
"Oh, come on, Asuka! I'm sure you remember something! Just something small, okay?"
"Oh. Okay." Asuka picked up the bow and rubbed it down with rosin. Then, she placed the violin on her shoulder, and started playing on the strings.
"Hey, that was nice! What's that song called?"
"…nothing, I was tuning it."
Shinji was in the middle of cutting some vegetables in the kitchen when he heard the sound of a slightly out of tune violin playing a classical music composition he recognized. Puzzled, he walked over to Asuka's bedroom door and peeked in.
Sitting on her bed, playing a violin while staring at a book she had propped up on a stand, was Asuka. "Ach, Scheiß!" she shouted as the violin made a squeak and she restarted the section.
"Uh, Asuka?" Shinji called out.
"HEY!" Asuka lowered her bow and glared at Shinji. "Get out of here! I'm not letting anyone watch me until I'm ready!"
"Okay." Shinji retreated to the kitchen.
After a few seconds the violin playing continued.
Shinji let it continue for a few more minutes, but he kept hearing Asuka stopping and restarting sections, usually accompanied by a string of German words he assumed were curses.
Finally he went back to her door and knocked.
"What?!" she called out.
"Your D's a little flat!" he said.
There was a slight silence. "I knew that!" A few seconds later he heard the distinct sound of plucking, probably Asuka desperately trying to retune the violin.
He put down his knife and returned to her room. "Do you want help?" he asked.
Asuka glared at him again, but then held out the violin for him. Shinji took it and began fiddling with the pegs.
"Where'd you get the violin?" Shinji asked as he did so.
"Misato got it for me this morning," Asuka replied. "She said it might take my mind off of things."
"Did it?"
"Well, sort of. Instead of worrying about my leg I'm worrying about getting this stupid song polished." She slapped the sheet of music emphatically.
Shinji looked. "Vivaldi in A Minor," he read. "1st movement. That's not really a beginner's piece—"
"What?! How dare you! Who said I was a beginner?!" Asuka snatched the violin from Shinji. "I'll have you know that in my glory days my violin skills outclassed your skill at the cello!"
Shinji's only exposure to Asuka's violin-playing had been an Instrumentality-influenced vision of a string quartet of EVA pilots, so the jury was out on how much practical skill Asuka actually possessed. But he wasn't about to say that out loud. "I believe it."
"I'm just… out of practice, that's all." She pouted. "So, if you wouldn't mind…"
Shinji sighed. "Sure," he said. He got up and quickly exited, closing the door behind him.
The violin playing continued for the rest of the day until dinner—Misato had to physically carry Asuka to the table, as had become the norm in the house, and this meant Asuka had to put the violin down. After dinner, Asuka was too tired to keep playing—her fingertips had become sensitive from the strings.
But the next morning, music was coming from her room once again. And when Misato went in to retrieve Asuka, she emerged empty-handed as the sound of violin-playing followed her out of the room.
"This might have been a mistake," she said as she sat down at the table.
"I'll say," Ritsuko replied. "She's a perfectionist, I'll give her that. At least she has the decency not to keep us up all night."
Shinji looked over at Misato. "Maybe you should confiscate it?"
Misato shook her head. "She's committed to it at this point. Besides, it's not my place to take something that makes her happy away from her."
A massive squeak interrupted the playing, followed by another string of German curses.
"Speaking of hobbies…" Ritsuko looked at Shinji. "Don't you play the cello?"
Shinji bit his lip. "Not for a while," he admitted. "In those last few months before Third Impact…it just wasn't worth it. And afterwards…"
"Bigger fish to fry," Ritsuko nodded.
"Yeah."
"Well…" Misato smiled hopefully. "Maybe now might be the time to pick it up again?"
"Really?" Ritsuko raised an eyebrow. "You want two kids playing instru—" There was a loud stomping noise from under the table, and Ritsuko's sentence was cut off by her making a very pained noise.
Shinji stopped eating for a moment. "I don't know…" he said. "The only reason I played cello for so long was because no one told me to stop."
Ritsuko blinked. "What? That doesn't make any—" There was another stomping noise from below the table and she glared at Misato. "I mean… it's okay to outgrow hobbies."
And the conversation moved on to other topics, like figuring out better ways to preserve meat, and what to do to control the temperature in the greenhouse, and contingency plans for the coming winter.
But Shinji wasn't really paying attention to all that. He was thinking about his time playing cello. True, the only reason he never stopped was because no one ever told him to, but he never really hated the cello. He just didn't have much reason to think about it.
He looked at his fingers. His callouses had faded long ago, and considering how long it had been since he played, he was probably very rusty. In fact he was probably no worse than—
"Misato?"
"Yeah?"
"Where did you get the violin?"
"Music store over by the strip mall. Why?"
Asuka growled as she restarted for the twentieth time. "Stupid Vivaldi," she muttered.
There was a knock at the door.
"What now?!" she called out.
"Can I come in?" Shinji's voice replied.
"I'm busy!"
There was a pause. "When you play the Bach Double, do you play 1st violin or 2nd violin?"
"…what?"
"If you had to pick a part on Bach's Concerto for Two Violins, which would it be?"
Asuka thought about it. "Well, 1st violin obviously!"
"Great! That settles it!"
"Settles what?"
"Invite me in and I'll tell you!"
"What are you, a vampire?" She sighed. "Fine, come on in."
The door swung open and Shinji came in, carrying another music stand and a cello. Without a single word, he propped both down in front of the chair, sat down, took out his music, handed a sheet to Asuka, and held his bow at ready.
Asuka blinked, stunned. "Well… 2nd violin starts it. Or cello, I guess."
Shinji began to play the intro.
"Why play it so slow?" Asuka remarked. "It's at a higher tempo than that."
Shinji stopped playing. "I've never played this before on a cello," he explained. "And I haven't played the cello in ages."
Asuka grinned mischievously. "Well, okay Shinji. We'll take it at a lower tempo…for your sake."
Ritsuko peeked her head out the door, surprised by the sound of music coming from the ground floor. She stepped out of her room and went over to the stairs to listen.
Sure enough, she could hear Shinji and Asuka dueting on a piece of music. It wasn't a masterpiece by any means, but they sounded pretty in-sync.
"Such talent," Misato said, startling Ritsuko. She had also emerged from her room when she was in the middle of nursing a can of beer to listen in.
"They really are a good pair," Ritsuko mused. "I guess the last few weeks have really brought them together."
Misato laughed bitterly as she started to drink. "You say that like it's a good thing."
"Is it not?"
"Well, long as they're happier, I suppose. But they're lucky they're not completely traumatized after what you lot did to them."
There was a silence.
Ritsuko turned to Misato. "You seriously think they're not traumatized?"
"What?"
"Think about it for a second—the both of them watched everyone they loved die and everything they held dear fall apart in a very short amount of time. One of them actually died, while the other watched helplessly. Their entire world literally imploded. I'd hate to break this to you, Katsuragi, but those two are scarred for life."
Misato snorted. "And whose fault do you think that—" There was a loud stomp and Misato let out a squeak as she felt Ritsuko's heel crush her foot.
"We can get caught up in the blame game for as long as you want," Ritsuko said. "But here's the truth: regardless of what anyone did, your kids aren't alright. You need to keep a better eye on them."
"I'm doing fine, thank you," Misato let out through gritted teeth. "I'm their mother now, and I'm gonna be a better mother than they ever got the chance to have."
"Yeah? And how many of those beers have you had today?"
Silence.
"Hell was wrought upon the Earth, Katsuragi. None of us made it out in one piece. Not Shinji, not Asuka, not me, and certainly not you." She released her foot from Misato's. "Cope with it however you'd like, but you'd better figure out how to juggle that while supporting them." And with that, Ritsuko disappeared back into her room.
Misato remained at the top of the stairs for a while. She looked at her beer can, briefly considering discarding it…
...and then just as quickly putting it to her lips.
Reflection
A crimson red sky.
A white, sandy beach.
Ruins.
So much destruction.
And, sitting on a small balcony of a house with a clear view of the ocean of LCL, Shinji Ikari.
He stared out towards the sea. He could still make out the remains of the mass production Evas, locked in their cross formation. Lilith was an increasingly gruesome sight as she continued to decay into the horizon.
He had woken up only a short while beforehand. It was insanely early, but he'd had the impulse to come out here.
He stared up at the sky. Sunrise was almost upon them, but he could still make out the stars flickering above.
Somewhere in the darkness was Eva Unit 01. And inside Unit 01 was the soul of his mother.
Shinji had no idea where she was. The Evangelion was out there as a memorial to mankind. Perhaps some celestial being like Lilith would find it and understand all that had happened. Perhaps eventually gravity would do its work and Unit 01 would come crashing down to Earth in a few hundred years.
Would his mother choose to emerge then? Would she remain trapped inside? What was to become of her?
"Hello…mother," he said to the sky.
There was a silence.
"Mother." He said the word out loud, giving it a cautious test. "Mother." The term seemed almost foreign to him. He had vague memories of her from when he was much younger. And he recalled feeling her warmth from within the entry plug. But she was so absent for most of his childhood. Was that really being a mother? Meanwhile he had Misato, who he had clearer memories of, who had been practically doting on him and Asuka since the day she returned.
Ironically, Misato had been more of a mother than his own mother had ever been.
No. No, that wasn't fair. Regardless of her absence, she was still his mother, and no matter what happened, she'd given her life to protect him.
"It's been a while since we talked, Mother," he said. "But… a lot's happened. People came back—first it was Asuka, then Misato, and Ms. Ritsuko. They all came back within a few weeks of each other. And we got a radio broadcast, so we know there are other people out there."
There. He'd said all the happy things.
"But… it's been hard, Mother," he continued. "I wish it wasn't. Asuka and I haven't… you know… because it feels so wrong to do it after everything. Asuka and Misato were at each other's throats for a while, I actually thought Asuka was going to kill her. Then Asuka got hurt, and Ms. Ritsuko came back but Misato wanted to kill her… and that has nothing on the fact that I tried to kill Asuka when she came back, I mean—" He cut himself off.
This was stupid. What good would babbling on about it do? It wasn't like she could hear him.
He took a deep breath. "I thought everything would be fine when people started coming back. That things would go back to the way they were." He looked back out at the horizon. "But… I guess the way things were… nobody was fine."
What about now?
He thought about that for a while. "I think…"
He shivered. It was very cold out. The temperature had been steadily dropping over the past few weeks. It was probably time for him to go inside.
"I think the important thing is we're still here. Just… now that I have them, getting through this day-by-day doesn't seem as much of a chore as it used to be."
An autumn breeze brushed over him.
"Goodbye, Mother," he said. "I hope you can hear me… wherever you are." He turned and walked back through the sliding door into the warmth of the house.