Well argued; but no living man can hope
To force the gods to speak against their will.
- Sophocles, Oedipus the King
Chapter Five: Breaking Mirrors
"Asuka's down again, Misato," murmured Ritsuko. "I don't like this."
They stood in the command box overlooking a real-time feed reporting the state of the pilots during the current sync test. Rei's graph was solid as always, a nearly-perfect horizontal bar. Though Shinji had been flaky of late, he had not varied much, and today seemed to be a good day for him, as he'd improved two points. Statistically significant, but psychologically significant? There was precious little to go on. Asuka, on the other hand, had continued her freefall through the two-digit numbers, now performing almost on Rei's level, which was terrible for her. The graph was wildly erratic as well, varying over a range of forty percentage points just in the last two hours.
"I know," answered the major standing next to her, frowning at the same readout before shifting her gaze to the split video feed showing each pilot's face. "Do you think I like it any more than you do?"
Ritsuko ignored the question, sipping idly from her coffee. "Another four points overnight," she added. "What are you doing at that apartment of yours? Beating the girl?"
"If only," sighed Misato, scratching an itch on her elbow. "You may have to think of a deeper explanation than that, Doctor."
As she was speaking, the door opened to admit a yawning Subcommander Fuyutsuki. Ignoring the techs, he made towards where Ritsuko and Misato were standing. "How are they doing?" he asked quietly, gazing up at the video feed.
"See for yourself," answered Ritsuko, gesturing at the graphs in front of her.
The man did so, folding arms over his chest as he examined the figures. Eventually he grunted in clear disgust. "What's the explanation for her?" he asked quietly, tapping Asuka's jagged line.
"Who knows?" she shrugged, sipping again from her coffee. "Could be anything, at this point. Remember, though, that she defines herself in terms of success. This is likely to get worse."
Fuyutsuki scowled sourly at the girl's numbers, then shifted his attention back to the monitor. He did not answer.
"So," continued Ritsuko, "do you want me to arrange a full psychological for her?"
The subcommander grunted again. "Don't bother, yet. If she doesn't settle down, do it." Without waiting for a response he turned and strode for the door, not intentionally walking fast, but his long legs made it so anyway.
Ritsuko eyed the man as he left. The Commander, of course, could never be bothered to attend something as mundane as a sync test, and the Subcommander's presence was always cursory. Still, Fuyutsuki seemed to display some concern for the people under him, some normal human curiosity about the welfare of others. He isn't a sociopath, at least. So I wonder how he got in here. Chuckling, she drained the last of her coffee and set the mug on a clear space on an instrument panel.
As she did so, Misato touched the audio channel to Asuka's test plug and a corresponding green light flared to life on a screen across the room. "Asuka?" A note of motherly concern touched her voice.
The German grunted acknowledgement, not opening her eyes.
Misato frowned slightly. "Asuka, is there anything that might be--"
"Stuff it, Major."
Ritsuko felt her lips curving. Hateful girl.
"Well," sighed Misato, tapping the channel to silence again. "Forget that."
Nodding absently, Ritsuko ignored Asuka for the moment, scanning the faces of the other two pilots on the divided screen. Shinji, at least, is doing better. That in itself was mildly surprising; barring his recent fluttering, the boy always seemed to do better, driving his sync rates to steady and apparently never-ending improvement. That has to be driving Asuka mad. I wonder if whatever's been bothering him lately has been resolved.
"Want to hear something funny?" murmured Misato beside her.
"Depends. Is it at my expense?"
"Not this time." The smile in the other woman's voice was audible. "Asuka called my cell two days ago saying Shinji had run off; she made it sound like he was going to go kill someone, or himself. I called Section Two and it turns out he just went to Rei's place with a bunch of cleaning stuff."
Ritsuko chuckled. "Sohryu is fond of theatrics," she observed.
"Well, that's the funny thing," mused Misato. "It had been her idea to check on him, so I told her about it when I got home. I expected her to throw a tantrum or something -- you know how she is -- but she just got this bizarre look on her face and went to her room. She didn't even slam the door or anything."
That might explain some things, she realized with a frown, shifting her attention back to Asuka's jittering sync graph. "Why Rei?" she wondered quietly. "Why cleaning supplies?"
Misato spread her hands. "With Shinji, who knows? I was as surprised as Asuka was. He didn't get home until late, though."
Ritsuko did not answer, instead frowning at Rei's relaxed face on the screen. It was not within the girl's usual behavior range to host social visitors, even someone as mild as Shinji, who was likely just there to help clean out her filthy apartment. Rei was cripplingly shy, even more so than Shinji, and her insistence on such things as solitude and distant speech had once prompted Ritsuko to test her for autism. Is Shinji just being himself, or are there sparks there? He doesn't know about her, does he?
"Anyway," sighed Misato, "I just thought it was funny."
"Funny, indeed," agreed Ritsuko absently. What are you two up to?
Rei cut slowly into her eggplant parmesan. Though Italian food was inoffensive, she had no great love of it. He did on occasion, however, and it pleased him to have her eat with him, so she did it.
"How is school?" he asked without inflection.
She waited to answer until she'd swallowed the mouthful of pasta. "It is more empty than in recent months." The same was true of the city, really.
"That is to be expected," agreed the Commander absently. "Many cannot stomach constant fear. They allow it to rule their lives."
Rei said nothing, only sipped from her water. His mind was not on the conversation, she knew; he had not made eye contact in some time, instead staring through her as though pondering something else. Vaguely she wondered what it could be, as he seldom let other worries affect him.
The Commander did not continue, and for a time the meal took place in silence. Rei ate deliberately and carefully; she did not enjoy the food, and as such there was little reason to hurry.
Eventually the Commander sighed, adjusting his glasses with a white-gloved hand. "Rei, I am to understand the Third Child has visited your apartment."
"Yes," she admitted.
"He stayed there until after midnight."
"Yes."
The Commander frowned slightly, and she could not read his face. He remained silent briefly before continuing. "What happened when he was there?"
"We cleaned and decorated." Silently she wondered how this could possibly concern him; she had not been forbidden from spending time with the other pilots, or anyone else for that matter.
"I see." The man across the table studied her openly now, fingers folded and very still on the tabletop. "Rei, are you in a relationship with the Third Child?"
She pondered the question. Friendship is a relation. "Yes."
The Commander grimaced faintly. "For how long?"
"Only two days now."
He nodded once; bars of reflected light from the windows flashed across his spectacles with the motion. "Who initiated things? Was it him?"
"I... don't know," she admitted. "I believe both of us."
His lips twisted slightly, his only reaction. "Who initiated the physical contact?"
Rei frowned. "Physical contact?"
The Commander paused, then nodded again. "Yes. Have you slept together?"
"I watched him sleep in the laundromat while we were waiting there," she answered. Is that significant?
"Ah," he replied after a moment. "I see. But you are... dating, correct?"
"Dating?" She felt herself frowning again. "We are... I do not believe so." Perhaps she would have to ask Shinji about that to be certain.
"Very well," he acknowledged. "I may have misunderstood you. You are only friends, then?"
"Only" friends? she wondered, nodding. Friends are to be treasured.
"I see," answered the Commander again. After a moment he resumed eating his meal, a pepper-rich dish with a complicated name she could not remember.
Rei gripped her water glass, feeling the cool condensation dampen her palm, but did not lift it. "Is that a concern?"
He shook his head as he swallowed. "Do not worry about it. But be wary of the Third Child, Rei. He is not worthy of trust."
That is not correct, she realized silently, keeping her eyes down as she drank again of her water. Is the Commander lying, or merely mistaken? Perhaps... perhaps the latter; he does not know Shinji well. The awkward realization struck her that she might soon know her friend better than the Commander did, if she did not already.
Silence fell over the white-draped table once again. Rei kept her attention on her own plate, eating impassively as she wondered about the conversation that had just transpired. Dating. She had never even thought to consider Shinji, or anyone, in such a fashion until the Commander had mentioned it. Now the idea was there, and it made her... uncomfortable, she decided. I wonder how he feels. If he's thought of it at all.
"What have you been reading lately?" wondered the Commander some time later.
Rei thought back. "Old Eva safety documents."
He nodded. "Useful knowledge. It never hurts you to know more."
"Yes." It never hurts.
Darkness. Cool darkness, wet. Water on grass. Dew.
Not just coolness; cold. Sharp, icy cold, tugging at skin, numbing. No air. Water. Icewater and metal, cold steel under the tongue.
Sudden light, blurring in the darkness. Warmth. Warm light. A human face, smiling. Loving. Fingers in my hair, stroking, comforting. Something soft and smooth under curling fingers. Closed eyes now. A warm liquid, sweet in my mouth, liquid affection. It is love.
The comfort gone now, the light gone, only eyes. Machine eyes. White or green? Glowing. Waiting, patient.
A weapon? A weapon. Against enemies to be used, all enemies everywhere, world-rending power. Blood rushing, whispering vengeance, retribution. Father.
Weakness now. Can't stand the weakness, choking, humiliating. Strength taunting, others' strength. Strong where I am weak. Suffocating, drowning in blood, pressure everywhere, crushing. A distant roar. Not mine.
Blood, glowing red. Red. Red sunshine, setting sun. Red sky. Bars of Mozart, slicing, hopeless.
Machine eyes. Always there.
Father. Enemies, Father. We are enemies now. You don't know yet, but I do. You've hurt too many...
...too much...
...pain. Clawing, desperate. Escape? Not from, from... cage. Cages. A giant fist, my fist, into the glass. Doesn't break. Can't reach him. Powerless. Laughing weakness, swirling shame, broken care for my only... my... Endless imprisonment, a humanoid prison, glittering power in a wind-up doll. A cage in a cage. Hate him now. Hate forever. Did this to me. Knew. Everything to protect...
Dripping water. Underwater. Moonlight on ripples. Sweet liquid, safety. Warmth. Please don't go, please don't...
Cold ovals of light, a grim sneer, a reaching hand. Can't breathe, can't... can't reach... can't stand. Feet not on the ground. Stars, swirling, blackness.
Air. My body on the ground. Tearing, vultures tearing, losing flesh, losing identity, feeding the battle, the machines, fuel for the plan. Swirls of mist, rising, disintegrating. Darkness.
Shinji awoke with a gasp, sitting upright. For a moment nothing registered; he stared blankly around the silent room, confused. The numbers on the clock face flickered ahead, meaningless squiggles of light in the darkness.
Eva, he sighed, wiping his face with a shaking hand. I'm not in the Eva anymore. I'm not! Slumping, he let himself fall back to the bed.
The sheets were damp under his back. Fear-sweat. His body still shuddered, uncontrolled by his stunned will. Closing his eyes revealed only another pair staring back at him, glowing, so he jerked them open again.
Scowling suddenly, he rolled to his side to get away from the sweaty impression his body had left. The SDAT's headphone cord tried to tangle around his arms, reminding him that he'd fallen asleep listening to the thing, but it held no appeal now, not after another nightmare, one of the worst yet. Music might be able to put monsters to sleep in stories and video games, but the Eva's phantom would not be so easily conquered. Impatiently he pulled the plugs from his ears and gathered the player, then set them carefully aside.
It was strange, he reflected as he stared at the wall beside his bed, that after all that being an Eva pilot had done to him, he had no fear of getting into the thing again. He hated fighting in it, hated his father for making him do it in the first place, for making Touji pilot as well, but actually being inside Unit-01 presented no problems for him. It was... comforting, in a way he could not quite identify. Like nothing could hurt him there. Even though the feeling was clearly illusionary, it persisted. I wonder why that is. The answer swirled somewhere in the depths of his memory, something from when he'd been stuck inside. It was gone now, whatever it was.
Curling into a ball on his side, he hugged the pillow to his head, but the rapid beating in his chest would keep him awake for some time, he knew. Fear still chilled his belly, gripped his lungs, his body's feeble reaction to things his mind could not understand, and likely wouldn't be able to handle if it could.
I hate this. The thought was without rancor, without feeling. He could feel his eyes losing focus, staring without blinking at the shadowed wall. I'm not cut out for this. I'll keep fighting, but I don't know how much of me is going to be left when it's all done.
Time slid past, unnumbered moments drifting silently into history. He didn't move, didn't sleep; the fear never left him, even growing sharper whenever he felt drowsy, a greasy and desperate twist in his intestines to wake him back up.
I can't stand this anymore, he decided, rolling to his back again. The sweat on the sheets had dried, but he didn't remain there, instead continuing on until he was out of the bed, on his feet. Something drove him to leave the bedroom; it was a place of terror now, a house of mirrors reflecting distorted images of his inadequacy, of the circus monsters in his mind.
Quietly pulling his door open, he slipped into the hall and trotted into the living room, where he threw himself onto the futon and placed his face in his hands. The silence of the apartment, and the noise in his mind, were no different than they'd been in his bedroom.
Asuka's eyes snapped open. Though she was not a light sleeper, per se, she prided herself on waking to slight and unexpected changes to her environment. Hearing Shinji's footsteps head to the bathroom and back was expected; hearing them head out into the rest of the apartment without coming back was not.
For a time she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling above, wondering if she cared. He was allowed to sleepwalk, she supposed, though he'd never done so before. Oh, he's not asleep, she sighed. He barely sleeps these days.
Lips thinning briefly, she shook her head and climbed out of bed. Stepping silently across her bedroom floor, she pulled her door open just a crack, enough to hear if he were to leave the apartment, enough see a slice of him if he were to walk past. There she waited.
Rectangles of moonlight slowly shifted across the living room floor under Shinji's helpless gaze. I hate this, he thought, not for the first time or even the tenth. I'm not going to get to sleep this way. I should just talk to someone, he decided bleakly. Only there's no one. No one awake, anyway.
Rising wearily to his feet, he simply stood there for a moment before shuffling back to his room just long enough to retrieve his cell phone. From there he wandered back, frowning at the glowing buttons uncertainly. I shouldn't, he told himself. She's not awake. She won't answer anyway. So why not? he concluded with a humorless chuckle.
Thumbing a button for one of the preset numbers, he lifted the phone to his ear and glanced up. With a blink he realized his feet had carried him to the apartment's actual phone, in the kitchen, as though he were using it instead.
The line rang in his ear for some time, and idly he wondered if there was a lonelier sound than a phone not being answered. She's not going to wake up, he realized, relieved. Good. I'm an idiot anyway. I shouldn't have...
In mid-ring a clicking sound announced someone at the other end answering the call. A moment later a voice spoke. "Hello?"
He licked his lips. "Rei?"
"Shinji?" Her soft voice was husky with sleepiness.
He closed his eyes, slumping; he could hear her speak like that for hours and be content. "I... I woke you up," he whispered. "I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry."
She cleared her throat. "Why did you call?"
"I don't... it's stupid," he dismissed. "I can just talk to you whenever I see you next, probably."
"Something has upset you," she realized.
Shinji grimaced, rubbing his forehead. She actually wants to know. Wants to help. Asuka would kick my ass if I did this to her. Even Touji and Kensuke would probably just tell me to bring it up in the morning, then hang up on me.
"Shinji?" prompted her tinny voice.
"I... can't sleep," he admitted, surprised at how quiet his voice came out, how calm. She's not upset. I don't need to be afraid. "I had a nightmare. I dreamed I was still stuck in the Eva again, and then... then the Commander killed me. Choked me to death with his bare hands."
"But that did not actually occur," she pointed out.
"I know; it was a dream." He shook his head. "I just... this happens almost every night, but this was worse than normal. I couldn't get back to sleep. I can still feel my heart pounding, and it's been quite a while."
Rei remained silent for a time. "You are no longer in Unit-01," she reminded him. "The Commander would not kill you in any case. You are safe where you are."
"I... I know," he sighed, toying with the coiled cord of Misato's phone, still on the hook. What Rei had told him was so obvious it hardly needed mentioning, but hearing someone else say it, someone totally calm, eased the terror somewhat. "I know. I think I just needed someone to talk to."
"I see," she answered. "Are you still troubled, then?"
Who's not? He nodded, knowing she couldn't see it. "Yeah, but I should be able to get to sleep now." Hopefully.
"Very well. Are we done?"
He smiled faintly. "Yes. Thank you, Rei."
"I don't mind, Shinji." The phone went dead, and a sad chirp let him know the call had ended.
Still feeling vaguely idiotic, he gazed at his silent cell for a moment, then shook his head and turned around. And found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes.
Asuka watched impassively as Shinji leapt a half-meter ceilingward, then stumbled back to the kitchen wall on landing. The idiot's fist, still clutching his phone, had risen to his heart.
For a moment he simply stood there, staring, before finally sagging. "Asuka, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?" He pitched his voice low, perhaps owing to the close darkness in the apartment. Or to avoid waking Misato, who was actually home for once.
She raised an eyebrow, advancing on him. "I should be asking you the same thing," she countered, just as quietly.
A guarded expression stole over his face. "I couldn't sleep," he answered.
"I see that." Asuka watched him for a moment, but he was still clearly waiting to see why she'd followed him into the kitchen. "You couldn't sleep, so you called Rei?" This is just too weird.
"No, I... well, yeah."
"Why?"
Shinji's features clouded. "What do you mean, why?"
Asuka sighed tightly, trying to summon more patience from somewhere. "Why on earth would you call Wondergirl? How could she possibly help you?"
"She listens," answered Shinji flatly, fingers curling around his phone. "We're friends."
"Oh, how convenient," she murmured. "I was awake the whole time, you know."
He sagged slightly. "So you... you heard everything."
"I heard..." She trailed off, staring at him, confused. "So what? You don't get it, do you?" she hissed. "Rei has nothing to give you that a living, breathing, non-doll person couldn't." This is weird, arguing in whispers.
Shinji frowned in apparent thought. "Asuka, are you...? If I'd woken you up about this, you'd have smacked me."
Well, yeah. She snorted, investing the sound with as much scorn as she could manage. "Who says it had to be me?"
He shook his head. "Then why else are you out here?"
Smoldering anger quickened to eager flames. "Listen, dumbass," she instructed coldly, advancing on him; Shinji backed into the wall in response. "I was curious, okay? That's all. Don't think I want to be some confidante who hears how you wet the bed or... whatever it is you do in there. You can tell that to Rei, or to Touji or a chair for all I care; it'll all work the same."
"Then get out of my way," he whispered, anger narrowing his eyes. "You can't... you can't make someone confide in you, Asuka."
Scowling, she threw her hands in the air and wandered off, allowing him space to leave. He did so, staring at the floor, walking quickly back to his room.
Such an idiot. He doesn't know what he needs, does he? Glaring after him, Asuka folded arms across her chest and stood there. He's probably doing that just to annoy me. She didn't expect, or want, him to come to her with all his problems, but if he had, it would have been an admission of weakness on his part and therefore could be taken as an apology for being such a condescending hotshot, an apology she would have accepted. Though she still would have rubbed it in a bit, of course; he deserved no less.
Sighing, she let her hands drop and returned to her room. It was like he was going out of his way to ignore her, a man going across the city to pay for beer when his neighbor was giving away wine, and if there was one thing that stoked her fury more than being defeated, it was being ignored.
Such an ass. Thinks I want to be his... thinks Rei gives a shit. That he had called the First Child in the middle of the night, and apparently was on a first-name basis with her, still made Asuka's skin crawl. That's no good. Shinji doesn't know what he needs, but it's definitely not her. I'll have to do something about that.
Jaw clenched, she flopped back to her bed and squeezed her eyes shut. It was some time before her pounding heart slowed and sleep found her.