I Knew Him When chapter 6

Adam Kadmon

Disclaimer: I don't own Eva. Do you?

The next time was going to be different.

That was the decision Mana arrived at after three more visits with Ikari Shinji, each one ending invariably with more questions than answers. He spoke to her with icy intellect and calm detachment. Any genuine emotion seemed to be beaten out of him long ago. He was precise, articulate and usually forthcoming, but he was removed from his words. It was not merely distracting, it was troubling.

Here was a man besieged by torments and hardships. In her experience dealing with survivors, Mana found they were most likely angry, or depressed, or afraid. A lack of easily identifiable emotion was disconcerting. She didn't like it at all.

Mana kept prodding him with deeper and more personal questions, hoping for an outburst, or even a breakdown. The most he gave her was slight regret, or in rare cases, a very focused self disgust.

But she wanted it to end. She wanted answers beyond his home life and personal preferences. She wanted the truth.

It was an overcast Thursday when she visited Shinji again. She had the road from the base to his safe house nearly memorized, right down to the bumps and cracks in the asphalt. Trees whipped past her windows, flashes of blurry greens at the corners of her vision. The radio was playing, but she didn't hear it.

She arrived at the compound. She greeted him, and he greeted her, and it was colored by his usual detachment. Almost professional. She also noticed something else: he always seemed tired. Like all he could manage at night was a fitful ten minutes. His eyes were sunken and dark, his face pale and drawn. His hair was always in variable states of disarray, and his manner was slightly slow and halting. He moved like a man condemned.

They sat in the living room, like always, he on the chair, she on the couch. It was an old interviewer trick she learned ages ago. To face your quarry, forcing eye contact, making visible any physical tells. It almost necessitated speech, the silences being too great, too awkward.

But Shinji had apparently read the same books she had. He was almost comfortable in silence, and had to be dragged into conversation. As they spent more and more time together, he offered information less and less freely. If she asked a question, she'd get an answer. But if she waited for him to pick up the slack, she'd get nothing but silence. Mana almost knew Beethoven's ninth by heart now. She honestly didn't care for it.

She also found that he responded better with longer lead-ins. If he knew exactly what she wanted, his answers would be sharper and more precise. Mana discovered it as a minor form of manipulation. Longer questions would produce concise responses, but shorter queries let him expand upon her original intent. Today she decided to start long.

"There has been talk recently," Mana said, "about holding the survivors from NERV responsible for the Impact and the resulting difficulties the human race has endured. Most of the chatter is from the Americans, who've had a harder time rebuilding their infrastructure than any other nation. Their lack of exports and serviceable goods has finally caught up with them. They're angry and want to shake their sabers a bit. The UN's giving them time to air their grievances, but in the end everyone knows it will amount to nothing.

"The higher-ups, both within NERV and the Japanese government, have been tried and sent to prison. Despite the withholding of a death penalty, it seemed to pacify the masses. But the question still remains about how NERV accrued such power to begin with. Even before the construction of the Evangelions, and how its proven strength gave NERV incredible political and economic authority, the issue of who was backing it from the beginning remains unanswered.

"The Americans are on a witch hunt. The seemingly bottomless pit of money and influence that helped form NERV has vanished, or is in hiding. And they want to know where it is, or failing that, punish this country further for the loss. As you can imagine, public sentiment is growing steadily worse for the government and the UN. People are feeling angry, betrayed, lost and used. I can't imagine this having a positive outcome."

"Do you have a question for me?" Shinji asked.

"Yes. I'd like to know where you think the issue of personal responsibility lies for the remaining NERV personnel."

Shinji was silent for a long time. He seemed to be seriously considering her words.

"The most penance I can do for my failings," he finally said, "is to sit in this house, alone, until I die, or until the military, or the UN, or whoever is in power decides to kill me. That is all I can do. As for everyone else from NERV, I cannot say. Regardless of what the world powers say, the decision of responsibility should be left to the individual. Not everyone within the organization knew what exactly their commanding officers were doing. Secrecy was an epidemic. I feel not everyone should be punished for the faults of a few."

"Do you feel you should be punished?"

"Yes." The response was automatic, instinctual.

"Why?" she asked him.

"Because I failed." His tone was tired. Like a school child reciting a play's lines for the millionth time.

"How?"

"I do not even know where to begin."

"Could you try?" Mana asked.

Shinji took a breath. Like he was savoring the air. Tasting it. He breathed out through his teeth, a thin hollow sound.

"Misato-san once told me she wasn't ready to die. She fought so hard because she had important things to do before her life ended. I still do not know if she accomplished everything she set out to do. I failed her because she died saving my life.

"Asuka… the Asuka I used to know died as I sat by and watched. I yelled, I screamed, I pleaded, but the fact remains I did nothing. I failed her by being the Shinji she always accused me of being. Weak and pathetic and spineless and stupid and cowardly.

"Touji lost what little future was left to him because again, all I did was sit and watch in mute fascination as he was mauled and ruined.

"Kensuke and Horaki-san lost their friend because I failed Touji. His sister, too, who I severely injured during my first sortie, had to cope with her big brother's mutilation, as well as her own.

"Ritsuko-san had to deal with my family's sins, just as her mother did, and she was broken by the weight. She fell apart right in front of my eyes. All I did was watch.

"Everyone else at NERV, everyone who died in the attack, I failed them because I chose not to act. I was obsessed with myself and my pain and never looked up once to see anyone else. They died defending my cowardice.

"And Ayanami… she once told me she had nothing. Nothing beyond the Eva, which is somehow less than nothing. She told me that, and I could think of nothing to do for her. I still can't think of anything. She died… she died because I let her. For nothing."

He glanced away. His eyes ran over the edge of a window frame.

"And my father. I could never be who he wanted me to be. I failed him every day of my life. I still do. And nothing will ever change that."

Mana swallowed hard. She honestly wasn't expecting all that. She briefly considered countering him, point by point, but she didn't know enough about the personal relationships he spoke of. That, and the way he had delivered it all was like he was reciting the phone book or a school anthem. Like it was rote memorization. He had been living with this crushing guilt for years, alone, without any differing opinion. Mana could not even begin to grasp how damaged his mind was, to say nothing of his self esteem and ego. She suddenly wasn't surprised he tried to kill himself.

"Well," she said awkwardly, "no one can say they never failed someone or something." Mana cursed. She was amazingly inept at soothing other people. "I mean, everyone you stated wasn't exactly perfect."

Shinji peered at her. What was she doing? Impugning his dead relatives and closest friends? Was she trying to make him feel even worse?

She was trying to get a genuine reaction out of him.

"No one is perfect," Shinji stated. "But my failings make them approach it."

"You aren't angry at any of them?" she asked, recovering quickly. "NERV and the government condoned using children to fight. The sins they committed were under the guise of mankind's benefit."

"The situation demanded it. Those in power weren't willing to die." He looked at her oddly, almost like he was seeing her for the first time. "And what do you think? About those in power?" he asked. "About the UN?"

"I think the UN should keep their damn noses out of our business."

His eyebrows darted up. He wasn't expecting such a negative tone regarding her employers. He had encountered bitterness before from the doctors who interviewed him, but it was always restrained, kept under the surface. It was locked away under heavy guard. Lacking eyes to the outside world, Shinji had become rather adept at reading current events through the people he saw. Their mannerisms, choice of words, even body language all gave their hearts away.

He was aware of the harsh separation between the people of the nation, and the foreign controlled government. It was almost fashionable to despise the ruling party and those who worked under their thumb. Even native citizens who were employed by the UN were a source of impotent anger. It was expected.

But Shinji had never encountered someone who was so willing to denounce the government before. Certainly not from the people he spoke with. But as quickly as his interest was piqued, it was smothered. He awaited the next question.

"Sorry," Mana said, scrunching her shoulders up in shame. She breathed out, and straightened. "Do you believe in God?"

Shinji mentally groaned. From personal responsibility to divine responsibility. Terrific.

"Not in the way you mean," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"The ideal of an all powerful man or being in the clouds taking an interest in our everyday activities is something I cannot believe in."

"Why not?"

Shinji sighed, running a hand through his hair. He used his palm to push his bangs away from his forehead, but they fell right back into place as soon as he removed his hand.

"Do you honestly believe God is an old man in a white robe, sitting on a throne in the clouds, directing and judging human affairs? That thought terrifies me. Because people use that image all the time to project their own prejudices and hates onto a divine being, to justify their actions. By making their personal beliefs universal. It's disgusting."

He paused.

"Whatever is out there is beyond human comprehension. It cannot be fathomed, or contained in human language. The most we can hope for is brief glimpses, and hope it doesn't completely shatter our minds. Human minds are inherently weak, and being confronted with existence after death breaks them apart. It cannot be captured with our current mental capacity."

"So you believe in life after death?" Mana asked.

"… I believe we exist in one form or another, yes. But I couldn't begin to hope to describe it." He looked away. "The fact is, none of us know for certain. All there is is baseless postulating."

Mana pretended to make a note. She had skirted the issue of theology for awhile with him. Mostly because Mana herself had little use for organized religion. A part of her couldn't see the God of the Jews or the Christians or the Muslims being benevolent anyway, not after the Impact. She would still observe popular holidays, mostly out of practice and societal mores, but the blind belief was absent.

She was spiritual in the abstract sense. She believed in right and wrong, good and bad, but it was a human choice in the end. Whether you woke up in the morning and went to work, or if you woke up in the morning, went to work, and killed everyone there with a shotgun. Humans were responsible for their actions.

And Shinji, with his trapped intellect, appeared to have reached a similar theory.

"So," she said, "you don't believe in divine judgment?"

"… no. The only judgment that affects us is human judgment."

"But you believe in sins?"

"I believe human societies instinctively create right and wrong," Shinji said, "based on politics, economy, warfare and culture. I believe there is an inherent 'divinity' in all of them. They all have merit for their respective societies."

"Do you believe in retribution? In punishing those who have sinned?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel you're being punished right now?"

"Yes."

"Well… don't you feel you've been punished enough?"

Shinji did not answer.

"What is the worst crime you can think of?" she asked after a moment. Mana already knew what he'd say and was quietly proud of herself for fencing him in like this.

"Murder," Shinji said.

Mana tried not to smile.

Katsuragi Misato and Ayanami Rei. Most of the informed personnel Mana had spoken to all told the same story: they were both dead, never to return. And from Shinji's suicide note, it was obvious he took them personally. Left with that deduction, the last name on the list, this Kaworu, must have been a loss he took as his fault as well.

Mana had gone over the records of the Angel battles with a slight obsession. She knew them all almost by heart, down to time, date and place. From the reports made available to her, she had access to transcripts of dialogue and electronic data entry, as well as personal logs and post battle analysis.

And she knew that during the entirety of the Angel attacks, Tokyo-3 suffered three hundred and seventeen military personnel deaths, seventy two NERV personnel deaths, and fifty six civilian deaths. All of which were directly or indirectly connected to the deployment of the Evangelion units. Of course, how much of this the pilots knew was debatable. Somehow, Mana didn't see NERV telling a bunch of teenagers about the fatalities accrued by their actions.

But Shinji freely took responsibility for many people's deaths. Meaning they must have been close, this Kaworu and Shinji. Maybe someone caught in a battle? A casualty he took personally? Despite his claims, despite the surviving footage from the war, Mana could not believe he had anything to do with anyone's death. Not purposefully. It just didn't fit the profile.

"Murder is a terrible crime," Mana said. "Do you think humans, with or without a divine presence, instinctively seek out crime and punish it?"

"If it fits the culture."

"Do you mean, since the victim can't get justice, those who are still alive must exact it?"

"I suppose," Shinji said slowly, suddenly not liking where she was going.

"Do you feel the living have an obligation to punish? That those who are responsible for causing death deserve punishment?"

"It hardly matters what I think," he said softly.

"But surely, since you had so many lives in your hands so many times, it does matter. Certainly, you must have realized by now the number of people who relied on you to save them, and that not all of them survived. Even though it was beyond your control, it is the truth. Do you still feel you should be punished for them?"

Shinji did not answer, but she could guess.

"I want to ask you who Kaworu was," Mana said.

He made no movement or outward reaction. His face remained long and placid, his eyes dull and sunken. He didn't even look annoyed or surprised or saddened.

Again, here she was speaking about someone who was obviously quite important to him, and Shinji didn't bat an eyelash. He didn't get irritated, or short, or mad. It bothered her, that he never got angry. Everyone got pissed sometimes; it was human nature. Why was he any different? Was he so afraid of showing a little anger?

Shinji stared at her for a long moment, then rose from his seat.

"It's late," he said. "I didn't get much sleep last night. If you don't mind, could we call it a day?" He didn't wait for an answer.

Mana got up and trailed after him. He was quick. Faster than she thought. He was already at the door opening it when she reached the front hall. He obediently stood to the side, allowing her safe passage.

"Shinji-san, if you don't want to talk about him, we can discuss other things—"

"There is nothing else of importance left to say," he said. "This is where it always ends. With everyone I speak to. It isn't your fault, that's just the way it is."

"But… I'm sorry. We don't have to end things like—"

Shinji turned to her. His eyes were empty. His mouth moved slowly, carefully forming around each word he spoke.

"He was someone I murdered."

Someone was knocking on his door.

Aoba snorted and put down the music catalogue he was thumbing through, and rose from his chair. No meetings were scheduled for today, and as silly as it sounded, he was annoyed with the interruption. Not that his days were filled with excitement and stimulation anymore, but when something cut into his endless routine of daily motions, he was irritated. Hell, he was irritated when he knew someone was coming by. It only meant one thing: being pumped for information.

He supposed out of all the others under the military's lock and key, he was lucky. He rated a private compound, free of the cramped cells most of his colleagues were going stale in. And he had always 

been very pragmatic about his interactions with others. He'd enjoy them while they lasted, but he wouldn't hopelessly yearn for them when he was alone. Solitude certainly wasn't high on his short list of vices, but he suspected he had an easier time of it. He never was much of a people person. He liked peace and quiet. Being associated with NERV and so many battles, he wasn't surprised.

There was a mirror in the front hall beside the door, a pathetic attempt at making this prison feel like a home. He glanced at himself and stopped. He had always been quietly vain regarding his looks: he took great care shaving, used special hair products, and tried to work out at least once a week.

But the reflection that met him was old, tired and worn. His eyes were dark slits over grey wrinkles, his mouth sagged downwards, his hair was thin and brittle. He looked like a completely different man than the one he remembered.

He shook his head, and opened the door. He tried to look hospitable.

"Oh," Aoba said, his smile vanishing. "It's you."

Mana smiled awkwardly in his door.

"Yeah, um, I hope I'm not bothering you too much, Aoba-san."

"No problem," he sighed, ushering her inside. "Not like I have anything better to do with my time nowadays." He stalked off to his small living room, guiding her down the narrow front hall. "What is this trip about?"

Mana waited until they were seated, and she had his full attention.

"Do you know anyone named Kaworu?" she asked.

The suddenness of the query, without any preamble served her well. Aoba was unable to cover his shock. He immediately sobered, and adopted a sour look. She was well aware it was an underhanded tactic, but the military didn't train her in etiquette and social graces.

Aoba snorted angrily.

"And where did you hear about him?" he asked.

"From a reliable source."

"But you don't know who he is?"

"Not at the moment, no." She let the pause that followed be taken for what it was meant to be: a silent command for him to tell her.

"If I may make a suggestion…"

"Of course. Please do."

"Don't talk to Shinji-kun about Kaworu. It'll only hurt him." Aoba glanced at her. "Shit. You already did, didn't you?"

"Well… yes. He said… he said Kaworu was someone he killed."

"Someone he killed," Aoba repeated, smiling sadly. "Someone he killed."

"Who was he?"

"Someone he killed."

"Funny," Mana said. "But this isn't a joke. I want to know." She realized Shinji was apt to take personal responsibility for things outside his control. Based on that, she honestly didn't believe he ever willfully murdered anyone.

"So you want to know," Aoba said. He sounded like it was an old joke. "Why?"

"I believe," she said carefully, "that it would help me gain a better understanding of him, and in turn, help him."

Aoba openly scoffed at her.

"Do you honestly believe you're the first woman to claim she has Shinji's best interests at heart? That you care more about him than some job?" He shook his head. "Believe me, I've seen your kind before, lady. You're last in a long line. I've lost count of all the doctors before you who said they only wanted to help him. So let's cut the bullshit, doc. You're on an expensive fishing trip. The military can front some nice looking bait, but in the end, that's all you are. Bait."

Mana felt a surge of anger. How dare he.

"I'm a doctor and investigator for the military, yes," she said. "But don't think for one minute I'm doing this solely for their benefit. But I have a job to do. And that means I have to ask questions that some people don't want to answer. And it is of the utmost importance we get those answers."

"Really?" Aoba said. "Those answers, as you put it, nearly destroyed the world twelve years ago. Those answers need to be buried and never spoken of again. Because if you do get those answers, some fool will try to put them to use, and next time nothing will be left after the smoke clears."

"I have a personal stake in this," she whispered harshly. "I may have been ordered to investigate him, but I'm doing this because I want to. I accepted this, even though there are dozens of doctors lined up to do what I'm doing. I chose this."

"And? So what? Every one of you gives the same old song and dance. That he's a victim, that he doesn't deserve this, that you're only trying to help. If the military really wanted to help him they'd send Shinji-kun to a real doctor. Not any kid with a fake degree."

Fuck you.

"Fuck you." Mana bristled. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She snorted her fury out, and blinked back any more words. Aoba watched her with nothing but patience. "Forgive me," she said. "I didn't mean to swear at you."

"I'm pretty sure you did. Don't worry. I've heard a lot worse, and from more important people than you." He shook his head and sighed. "I don't know why you even bothered to come to me. You know I'm not the most talkative guy you have at your disposal."

"It was a courtesy," she said. "I'd rather not pester all of the lower level personnel."

"How nice of you. But what you really mean to say is that they don't know as much as I do, right?"

Mana was suddenly forced to realize exactly how long this man had been under confinement, badgered by questions between agonizing stretches of loneliness. She supposed he really had seen her kind before.

"I… do not mean any disrespect," she said.

"Yeah," Aoba said. His tone was long and tired. "Yeah. And while I can't say I like you, or the people who sent you, I can't say I disrespect you either. This is your job. Just like mine was to facilitate NERV. Just like Shinji's was to carry out the grudge of pathetic weak men. I think… I know I'm not as green as I was back then, blindly following orders. And Shinji… Shinji isn't as naïve as he used to be. He can't be."

"Naïve is definitely not the word he conjures up for me."

"I'll bet." He looked at her carefully, searching for some unseen quality. "I can't even begin to imagine what he's like now. I can't imagine how he's coped with everything. If he's coped. But one thing I do know is how people react to him. I can't say you're breaking the mold, doc." Aoba shook his head. Almost in pity. "Everyone either thinks of him as a devil or a saint."

"And you?" Mana asked. "What do you think of him?"

"I don't have to guess like everyone else. I knew him. He isn't either. He's just a kid."

"Dr. Kirishima," Shinji said, opening his front door to find a rain-soaked Mana. "Did you forget something?"

"Shinji-san…" She swallowed, shaking the rain from her hair. "Could… can we talk for a little?"

His entire face seemed to sag.

"If you really want to," he said.

He let her in. She hung her dripping coat on the empty rack by the door and slipped her shoes off. He hadn't waited for her, and she walked alone into his living room, finding him at his post in the stiff wooden chair.

Mana stopped abruptly. She felt a chill. The house was silent. No Beethoven to fill the gaps in their dialogue. It filled her with an irrational terror. Abruptly, his words began repeating over and over in her mind.

Someone I murdered. Someone I murdered. Someone I murdered.

Despite that, she couldn't see the man before her as a killer. She didn't think he had it in him. She had spent her entire life around trained soldiers; she was fairly good at spotting that little spark in people, the resolve required to kill. Not in sport, but when your own life is on the line.

Soryu had it. She was sure of that. Even with her current condition, her confidence about combat was impressive. The redhead could probably tear through a few armed divisions without too much trouble.

But Shinji… he was never trained to kill. True, he faced life or death situations on a fairly regular basis, but those were against giant monsters in fantastic battles that shook the earth. It wasn't pointing a gun at another flesh and blood human being and having the discipline to pull the trigger to save yourself.

He was a civilian. He had a civilian's mind. Life was sacred. Life was worth saving, no matter what. The typical idealistic weakness of the masses. But Shinji had to have held it as truth.

And somehow, that made Mana pity him all the more. He didn't have the mental discipline of a soldier, or even the neurosis of a serial killer. He had nothing but the ingrained morals and ethics of a hypocritical culture of life, and it must have torn him up inside.

It made her decision easier to complete.

The rain continued to hammer against the windows and roof. A flash of lightning lit the room. Mana began to speak.

"When I was fourteen I was involved in a project called 'Trident'. It was a military operation designed in response to concerns about the power and finances the Evangelions gave NERV. I was already in the JSSDF then." She paused, watching his surprise. "The Trident was a war machine whose purpose was to combat both the Angels… and your Evas. It was, as far as pieces of hardware go, impressive. But compared to the power of the Evangelion units… it was a pop gun against a tank." Mana took a breath. "I was one of the pilots."

Shinji arched his eyebrows, but remained silent.

"But piloting wasn't my only… skill. The military devised a plan revolving around the Trident." Her eyes stared straight at him. "The JSSDF could never replicate the so-called AT field the Evas had. And as such, were at a distinct disadvantage against NERV. Understand that for years, billions of yen were spent researching and developing force field type technology. None of it ever panned out."

Shinji thought of Kaworu.

"So… the plan they came up with was for someone to infiltrate NERV and find out all they could. The military, as well as several countries all sent spies into NERV's many branches, for years, and all of them… well, all of them wound up dead."

Shinji thought of Kaji.

"So the military thought, 'Hey, why not send a spy, not through the official channels of NERV, but through… the pilots'."

Shinji thought of Kaworu again.

"A spy that would befriend one of the pilots. The most accessible one. You, Shinji-san, were targeted to be contacted."

"That does not surprise me," he said.

Mana bit her lip.

"You were chosen because… given your background, it was felt you were the easiest to… manipulate. That you'd be the easiest target." She waited for some sign of anger or displeasure and found none. She pushed forward. "The spy would get close to you and get into NERV, maybe even an Eva, and report back. About everything, including you and the other pilots, the hierarchy of NERV, everything. Then, depending on how things went, the JSSDF would keep the spy near you, kidnap you, or stage an attack."

During Mana's next pause, Shinji spoke.

"Did the military honestly believe it could stand up next to an Evangelion?"

"No. They knew it would be a one-sided battle. So they had insurance." She drew one final breath before taking the plunge. "Shinji-san, I was the spy they were going to send to you. I was supposed to… get close to you… intimate, even, and then… if a battle started… you wouldn't be able to fight. Because I was fighting against you."

The rain outside had not let up. The windows were mosaics. The lightning and thunder had left though, drifting on the winds to another locale. Mana idly hoped she remembered to roll her car windows up.

In his seat, Shinji sat. He stared at the table between them, through the glass top to the floor below. He watched her feet twist.

"You knew me very well," he said quietly. "I imagine I would have been quite smitten with you." He squeezed his right hand closed, staring at his fist. Somewhere, deep within the rain, he heard a severed head falling into a pool of LCL. "You were really so sure I wouldn't fight a friend?"

Mana licked her lips.

"We were counting on it."

"Yes," Shinji said after thinking a moment. "You would have been right, then."

"You were… a point of interest for us."

The rain continued to fall.

"Why didn't you go through with it?" he asked her.

"I… well, I think somehow NERV found out. It was all unofficial, but several key members of the Trident team were… murdered. No one ever found out who did it… or why. Facing… extermination… the military brass cancelled the whole thing off. Then… a few months later…"

"The Third Impact," Shinji finished.

"Yeah…"

He closed his eyes.

"Won't you get in trouble for telling me this? Not that it really matters now, but…"

"Not unless you tell on me," she said quickly.

"… I won't."

"Thanks."

Shinji looked out the window.

"It seems to have gotten worse." He stood. "Could I offer you anything?" He didn't wait for her response and walked into the kitchen. "I'm afraid I still can't offer much. They don't let me select my own groceries."

Mana stood and followed him. The entrance to the kitchen was partially obscured from her seat behind a bookcase. She entered and found Shinji at the stove, boiling water. The kitchen was spotless, the clean bordering on obsession. Or merely too much free time. Mana stayed under the archway, watching him.

"Aren't… you angry?" she asked.

"I have no reason to be," he sighed. "It is all in the past. There is nothing I can do to change it. Wishing for such things will result in nothing. All I can do is… let it go." He paused for a breath. "I… don't want to be angry anymore."

Mana ran the heel of her palm over her sweaty forehead. Unbidden, the thought of berserker rage wormed itself into her mind. She could definitely agree with the concept of an angry Ikari Shinji not being a good thing. But it continued to trouble her that he refused to get mad.

The water heated, painfully slow. Like he was trying to boil dry ice with a wet match. Shinji kept his eyes on the kettle, a small, cheap piece of metal, barely large enough for two full cups. There were scratches and stains on its hide, and a small dent on the spout's end. Shinji kept staring at it.

Mana watched him. His slim slip of a frame, trapped by the sterile white of the kitchen struck her as profoundly sad. He was imprisoned within a pale shell in a doomed world he blamed himself for.

"Do you ever get lonely?" she asked softly.

"Yes. Of course. I'm only human." He frowned quickly. "But it's something I've learned to deal with. Something I had to adapt to. Focusing on the negatives of my current situation won't amount to anything other than despair. It'll…"

"What?"

"… drive me crazy."

Her eyes darted to his wrists. They were both covered by long sleeves, buttoned tight.

"You said…" Mana started, "the first time we met… that you saw the Impact. That it drove you insane." Mana bit her lip. "How… you said you regained your sanity. How did you do it?"

"I don't really know," he said. There was no deception or evasion. "All I know is that I am alive right now. I suppose that was enough."

"What was it like? The Impact?"

"It's like a dream now. Every day it fades a little more. I have nothing now but vague flashes. They usually sneak up on me, and I'm never fully prepared for them. You'd think I'd be able to deal with it, given my youth." Shinji hurried on. "I imagine you must have had a very difficult childhood," he said. If he felt any awkwardness or unease at directly questioning her, he hid it. "I thought only NERV resorted to using children."

"I was trained," Mana said, "from a very early age. It was long, difficult and painful. They used children because of the success NERV had with adolescents. The JSSDF had failed with the Jet Alone project, and foreign funding dried up. The Trident was the military's last hope to combat the UN and NERV, the power they had."

"The JSSDF did an excellent job of attacking NERV," Shinji said flatly.

Mana blushed in shame.

"NERV was never equipped to repel human invaders," she stated. "I don't think they ever considered it."

"I doubt that," he said breezily. "I think they always knew it would come down to that." He kept his back to her. "Why did you stay in the military?"

"For a long time, it was just my way of life," she told him slowly. "But after… when I returned, with everything going on back then, I felt if I could do anything to help, I should."

Shinji leisurely turned around. He looked like she had just told him Santa Claus lived next door.

"Why did you stay?" he asked again.

She coughed nervously. Where was all this coming from?

"What do you mean, Shinji-san?"

"All of the Children were fourteen, and all were either tricked or forced into piloting. None of us did it because we wanted to." He read her next statement. "Not Asuka, not Ayanami, not Touji. Not me." Shinji stared at her. "So, in the interest of honesty, I'd truly like to know why you served. Why you continued to serve to this day."

To find you.

"I told you the truth," Mana said. "It was all I knew how to do. And I really wanted to help people. I just felt the military was the easiest way to achieve that, given my past. I mean, okay, I still have problems with it, and their methods, but in this new world I really do believe they're trying to do good. I'm trying to do good. Honest."

Shinji turned back around. He weighed her words carefully.

"I see. Sorry. It's been a long time since I've met anyone like you. You do seem sincere. I'm not used to that. Meeting someone like you… it almost makes it worth it."

"Worth what?"

"Staying alive."

"Do you… do you wish you were dead?" Mana asked. "Is it really that bad? Do you really want to see those people again? All those you lost? Even if you could, do you hate yourself so much? I don't think you deserve half the pain you've been forced to shoulder. No one could say it's fair."

Mana moved closer to him, spreading her arms in a compassionate gesture.

"But staying silent forever won't help you. Trapping yourself inside a prison you made won't accomplish anything. Nothing good will come of it. All it can do is hurt.

"So please… who was Kaworu?" she asked him.

Mana could not believe the man before her was a killer. He might be prone to depression, and perhaps even fits of rage, but she refused to see him as a cold blooded murderer. She honestly didn't think he had it in him.

On an entirely different realm of consciousness, Mana realized that divulging her past to him was in a way merely an attempt for him to return the favor, to make him tell her who Kaworu was.

All the human, compassionate, caring parts of her wished her ploy would fail. But those aspects hadn't kept her alive for the past ten years. They hadn't served her when she first returned, when the world was in shambles. They never helped when the nightmares woke her up with screams and cold sweats.

The kettle whistled, high and wet. Shinji turned of the burner, but did not remove the water. He shut his eyes, and wished he could simply vanish.

Knowing won't change anything, Shinji finally thought.

He was tired. Of lies, of subterfuge, of deceptions and secrets and everything else associated with his life. He wanted at least a part of it to end.

"Kaworu was the first person I ever killed," Shinji said. "He was the only person I can remember telling me they loved me. He told me that, and then I murdered him. I crushed him in my hand and felt his bones and organs squeeze out between my fingers and watched his head plummet to my feet. I killed him, and then I killed every other human on the face of the earth. It was an easy choice.

"There is something inside me. It twists and turns my muscles and body to make me live and talk and act, but in the end all it is is pale imitation. Like a parrot. Or an infant. The real me, the me that fought all those years ago, died. He has been dead for many years. He died with Kaworu. And now, here, all that is left is a beast. Something that steals human faces and mannerisms, but can never achieve humanity. I tried to kill it once, and I failed.

"I've traded countless lives to continue my own. None of them deserved to die. I actually find it difficult to think of anyone as deserving death. It's like trapping someone in a dark room without doors or windows, and telling them to wait until the end of time. That is where I am right now."

He turned to look at her. His eyes were dark and violent and blue like an approaching storm.

"You cannot help me, Dr. Kirishima. No one can. I thank you for trying, because I truly do feel now that you want to. But it's useless. I am a beast now, more than ever. Now I do not have the luxury of excuses like youth, or inexperience, or fear, or ignorance. I've passed by all of those. All I have left is knowledge, and that makes me incredibly dangerous."

He took a step towards her, and she took a step away from him.

"If you truly wish to help me, then kill me. That is all anyone can do for me now. I'm done with talking. I'm done with acting. I'm done with thinking. I'm done with all of it. I'm not keeping things from people out of spite, or to exact a small measure of revenge. And it isn't to torture myself. It's to keep the fools you work for a safe distance from the curse of the Evangelion. That, that is what nothing good can come from. I can't in good conscience let you know anything. Because you'll just return to your base and report it, and that knowledge will be used again to hurt, and pillage, and tear apart anything it comes into contact with.

"And the only way to stop that from happening, the only sure way, is to kill me. That is the only help you can ever offer me."

Shinji turned back to the stove. He sighed like an old man.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said softly, "I really am tired. I'd like to rest now. Please excuse me if I don't see you out."

Mana tried to think of something to say. Something to ease him, or make him see things could get better. But they all sounded hideously false and contrived. She stared at his back, and wondered how many others had been here before her. How many doctors and military agents had questioned him, beaten him, made him this way.

This wasn't the man she had dreamed of for so many years. This wasn't the Shinji she wanted to meet. This was a broken human being. He went through the motions of living, but that was all. He had no passion, no desires or dreams or aspirations. He had lost all hope to better himself and his situation. All that was left was a pale imitation, an empty shell filled with self hate, regret and pain.

This was the Ikari Shinji free of her private desires and personal fantasies. This was who he was. This was no dashing hero, or suave superman, or daring champion. There was nothing but darkness remaining.

And for the first time since they met, Mana wondered if death truly was the only thing left for him. He had survived Angels, Evas, humans, and even his own hand. It seemed he was doomed to live life no matter what.

Mana had been through some difficult times in her young life, but she had never seriously considered suicide. She suddenly realized how different they were, and that no amount of talking, or shared experiences could ever bridge the gap.

Mana ducked her head, turned, and left. There was nothing else she could do now. She left the sterile kitchen, the crowded living room, the narrow front hall, the stone walkway. Her car, she remotely realized, did have its windows rolled up.

A part of her couldn't accept that this, this was how her quest ended. With quiet despair, with whimpers instead of bangs. When she had first started this journey, there was no doubt in her mind that she'd be able to help him. Failure never entered her mind. She thought their almost shared past gave her an advantage, and edge over everyone who came before her. But it had proven as useless as all her other gambits. She had done nothing but waste time, and soon she'd have to tell that to Taper. And then a fresh doctor off the military assembly line would appear to replace her, and the cycle would repeat until something finally did kill Shinji.

Would anything have changed if he told her all he knew? What did she think would happen? That the military would get everything they wanted, and she and Shinji would ride happily into the sunset? Had she ever been that foolish? She had always held onto a shred of idealism, because without it she'd be no different than the faceless survivors she listened to every day. She wanted to think she was stronger than they were. That she wouldn't give in to despair at the first sign of trouble.

Mana opened her car door and sat behind the wheel. She gripped it tightly, her knuckles white and bony. She stared up at Shinji's house, and felt the full force of her failure. She couldn't think of anything else to do for him. It felt like her life was crumbling between her fingers, and all she could do was watch. The motivation for her entire life had just been ripped away from under her feet. She had nothing left to stand on.

Mana didn't feel the first tear slip free of her eye, or the second, or the third. But soon all she was aware of was that she was crying. Not great, wracking sobs, just enough to shake her slim frame and wet her face. Just enough to make her wonder who she was crying for. The world was swimming in tears. What were a few more.

"Damn it," Mana whispered. She wiped angrily at her eyes. "Damn it."

There was nothing else she could do.

"Damn it."

End of chapter 6

Author notes: meh. This one just wouldn't come together the way I wanted. Oh well. But next chapter we finally get to see what the hell happened to Shinji. Oh, the drama!

You guys really need to stop taking me so seriously. The whole "all guys are perverts" rant last time was just a little venting. In my experience with men, they're all pervy. Maybe I'm just not meeting the right ones. Also, I can get pretty strange off my meds. Anyway. Take what I write with a grain of salt. Two grains even. But the point I was trying to make was simply that the male soldiers guarding Asuka saw her need for acceptance and took advantage of it. I really didn't think it was a huge leap of faith here. Well, fine. From now on, all seriousness. No more kidding. And next chapter could have used a touch of levity… oh well.

And sorry, but the plot won't really get moving until the interlude, after chapter seven. If you can stick it out, thanks. If not, there's always my next fic.

A GIANT thanks to the all-knowing Eric Tsai for filling me in on Mana's back story. Thank you. I truly appreciate it.