"Before we end for the day, I'd like to remind you all of parent-teacher conferences coming up in the next few days," announced the teacher of Class 2-A. "Be sure to check the meeting schedule in the hall to make sure there are no time conflicts. Both you and your parent will be expected to attend."

Shinji sulked at his desk after the final bell rang. Of course Father won't come. Father never thinks about me except when he needs me for something. He glanced over to Ayanami's desk, where she was staring vacantly out the window as usual, her hands covered in bandages although she had not even been injured recently, to the best of his knowledge. Maybe Ayanami would know what to do...she knew Father better than he did.

He walked over to her desk, trying to look as casual as possible. "Hi Ayanami," he said. Ayanami did not respond. Shinji cleared his throat, but she still did not look up. Growing desperate, he snapped his fingers in front of her face, which finally caused her to glance languidly in his direction.

"Salutations, Ikari-kun." She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "You are concerned about the Commander's role in the upcoming conferences?"

Shinji blinked. "H-how'd you know?" Am I that transparent?

"You spread your mayonnaise counter-clockwise today. You never do that, Ikari-kun."

Shinji continued to stare absently at her in confusion.

"I made an assumption because he is important to you."

"But..the mayonnaise? How did you.."

"I was speaking in jest."

"Oh.."

"I know you would not spread mayonnaise in such a way."

Shinji sighed. Sometimes he wondered if Ayanami was autistic, a time-traveling deity from another dimension, or just very eccentric. His inquiries usually settled on some combination thereof.

"So um...what do you think I should do?" he finally asked, blushing slightly.

"You should tell the Commander how you really feel, Ikari-kun. He cannot know that he is important to you unless you communicate this knowledge via phonemes."

How he really felt about him? But what did he feel? He could never decide what he wanted from Father. Still, she was probably right. He couldn't run away.

Shinji managed a smile. "Thanks, Ayanami."

"You are welcome."

Shinji started to walk away, but turned around before he had left the room, remembering something that he had intended to ask Ayanami but had not yet had the courage to.

Her red eyes met his. "What is it?"

"Um...I was thinking about the upcoming conferences and all, and was wondering," he said, fidgeting. "What are your parents like, Ayanami?"

She shook her head sadly. "You know that is level 7-C classified information, Ikari-kun. I cannot divulge it at this time."

"Oh...sorry." Unsatisfied with her answer but unwilling to press the issue further, Shinji turned on his heel and walked out of the empty classroom, waving shyly at Ayanami, who remained seated impassively amid a row of empty desks.

At home, Hikari Horaki hummed to herself as she made her way around the kitchen

Having been left with the responsibility of taking care of her two sisters for much of her young life, the pigtailed girl had grown accustomed to handling menial tasks around the house: cooking, cleaning, and setting a wholesome example for her siblings. She made sure they didn't watch any television shows where people wore bikinis or leather jackets, and blacked out the swear words in the dictionary.

Of all her household tasks, however, cooking was the one responsibility she truly enjoyed, and she now looked forward to sharing the fruits of her labor.

"I hope he likes it," she said to herself as she cut a tomato into thin slices. "I didn't even ask him what he likes."

Commander Gendo Ikari picked up and put the cell phone to his ear. A call from the boy. "What is it." It was not a question, but delivered rather in the flat tone in which he always gave orders.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, phone pressed shakily against his ear, Shinji swallowed the lump in his throat and attempted to configure his mouth to its speaking configuration. "A-ah! Well, uhm.."

The sound of Shinji's mouth calibrating itself for the Japanese language was met with silence on the other end of the line.

"Father! There's, um.. conferences!" he managed to stammer out, then realizing he would need to further clarify, he continued, "A-at school! A parent..conferences."

A bored grunt of acknowledgment.

"Would..like you to come," he explained. "I- I'll be there too."

After a moment of silence, his father spoke. "When is it."

Shinji could swear he heard his father narrowing his eyes over the phone. "T-tomorrow, at 1:00. At school."

Gendo entered the time into his schedule and nodded. "Be punctual."

As Shinji attempted to process this, the line clicked off. Removing it from his ear and looking down at the phone in his hand, he began to realize the implications of what he had just done.

Father is coming to school tomorrow. His eyes widened, his lips forming into a frown. This was what I wanted, but.. Was he good enough? Would Father be disappointed in him? What would he say? Oh God, I'll have to talk to him again, too. I can't do this!

Shinji stood and slid open his bedroom door, feeling nauseous from fear and stress. He surmised that the egg salad sandwich he had had for lunch was planning a daring escape from his belly. He propped himself up against the wall, breaking out in a cold sweat, and stepped on something soft and squishy as a stream of German curses filled the air.

"Idiot! Watch where the hell you're going!" Asuka hopped up and down, clutching her foot in pain. "If you think you can just walk all over me, you've got another thing coming!" She was wearing her usual lace nightgown and precariously balancing a half-full glass of milk in her free hand.

Mumbling an apology, Shinji tried his best not to lose his lunch.

"What are you, drunk or something? I know you're a sexual deviant, but I didn't think you were a drug addict too."

"F-father..coming to teacher meeting," he managed to get out, saving his offense for another occasion.

Asuka looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? Your dad is?"

Shinji nodded shakily. "What..what do I do? I can't.."

"What are you talking about? You can't what?" she scoffed. "You're terrified of your creepy dad?"

He swallowed, noticing his skin turning a sickly shade of green.

"I thought you wanted him to like you. Jeez, how can you expect to get anywhere in life if you don't even know what you want?"

Unable to hold himself together any longer, Shinji ran to the bathroom to finally allow the egg salad release from its captor.

Asuka shouted after him. "Hey! Don't just walk away when I'm-" She looked into the bathroom and crinkled her nose in disgust. "At least shut the door if you're puking!"

"Sorry!" As always, Shinji appreciated his loving family's emotional support.

She rolled her eyes and made her way to the living room, playfully calling after him. "Relax, Third! Even though your dad looks like a pedophile, you're probably too old for him anyway," she laughed as she found a comfortable position on the couch.

At school the next day, Kensuke glanced idly at Shinji's empty desk. He's probably doing stuff for Nerv. Man oh man, why can't I be an Eva pilot?

He had by this point begun to resign himself to the bizarre behavior of his tracksuited friend, and made another attempt to converse with him. "Did you hear? They've got another Evangelion coming!"

"Evangelion?" Toji narrowed his eyes. "Ah didn't know you was a Frenchman. Why's you gotta use all them fancy words?"

The bespectacled boy sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's an Eva, Toji. You know, the thing Shinji pilots."

Signs of understanding made themselves visible somewhere behind Toji's eyes as he listened. "Onna them metal-mans."

Kensuke nodded sadly.

"We's got enough o' them to feed a pack 'a mules fer a month and they sendin' more?" Toji wondered. "What'd you reckon they do with them majiggers, anyway?"

"Gee, Miss Misato! I guess Nerv has a really important job! I can't wait to do my part when I grow up!"

Misato chuckled, hiccuping and ruffling the boy's hair. "That's right, Kenji! You can count on Nerv to protect humanity!"

"So why are we at war with the Angels?" the boy asked, pursing his lips.

Misato opened her mouth several times as if to speak but refrained from doing so, realizing that she did not know the answer.

"Cut! Stick to the script, Kenji!" Misato squinted at him in inebriated anger. "Whose kid are you again, anyway?"

During third period, Kensuke chattered away happily at Toji about AK-47s, ignoring his friend's complete lack of comprehension. A substitute had been called in for the day, while their usual teacher was busy doing parent conferences in another office.

"Toji Suzuhara," a voice called over the intercom, interrupting the friends' one-sided discussion, "Please report to the principal's office, Toji Suzuhara."

Toji jolted up out of his seat. "It warn't me, I swear it!"

Kensuke rolled his eyes . "What'd you do this time?" He didn't really expect an answer, per se, but decided to give it a try anyway.

"'Ell if I know. Left the pigs too long in the pig-leavin' bin, best I can reckon." After a moment, he grinned at Kensuke, much to the dusty-haired boy's surprise, and fumbled around in his back pocket. "Not ta worry, smallboy. I's got mah lucky chimbley sweep-repellin' horshoe," he declared cannily, waving a horseshoe in the air.

Kensuke sighed as his friend walked out into the hall.

"Yer kiddin'."

Ritsuko Akagi looked patiently from across the desk. "No, Mr. Suzuhara, I'm quite serious. You've been chosen to become a part of the Evangelion project."

Toji scratched his nose. "Yew want me ta' get inna one them metal-mans?"

Sighing, Ritsuko looked down and cleaned her glasses on her shirt. "An Evangelion, yes. Mankind's ultimate defense."

Noting no visible change in the boy's expression, she continued, "There would, of course, be benefits in it for you. As a vital part of the struggle against the Angels, you would be-"

"Angels? Y'mean them things on Hallmark cards with glowin' circles 'round they heads?" Toji guffawed, a laugh Dr. Akagi was uncertain was intended at his own joke, if it even was one.

Fighting the urge to join him in laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation, she bitterly considered the possibility that the boy was actually laughing at her for even attempting to hold a conversation with him.

"Ah know what them things do to ya." Toji narrowed his eyes. "They's fer stealin' yer soul."

Commander Gendo Ikari glanced at his watch as his gigantic stretch limo came to a halt behind Shinji's school, occupying four complete parking spaces and extending midway out into the adjacent road. He opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement, accompanied by two scowling bodyguards on either side.

The bodyguards kicked open the front entrance to the school and placed their hands on their gun holsters as a crowd of terrified children scrambled out of the way into the nearest classrooms. Commander Ikari pushed up his glasses, looking contemptuously at his surroundings.

Ikari did not have fond memories of his own high school; he had constantly gotten into fights with his fellow classmates, and had once sent a substitute teacher to the hospital. A radioactive crater now occupied the land where his school had once stood; the girl who had turned him down for the senior prom was now the prospective soul for Unit 05. Being a high-ranking member of the organization that controlled most of the world had its perks.

Grabbing a boy by the back of his collar as he attempted escape, Ikari grunted, "Parent-teacher conferences. Where."

The boy's attempts to run were rendered useless by the fact that his helplessly flailing body was held in midair by the Commander's gloved hand. Whimpering in terror, he managed to point to a door marked 403-B, stuttering out a response.

Gendo set the boy down and stalked confidently to the designated office, opening its door and finding only Shinji's teacher inside, an older man whom the aging process had turned into a creature resembling a worn-out leather purse. The bodyguards stood cheek-to-jowl just outside the open door, peering into the room behind their dark shades.

"Where is the boy."

"He hasn't been here," the teacher replied. "I assumed he would be coming with you."

Gendo furrowed his brow. "Disappointing. I ordered him to be prompt."

The teacher sighed. "We're scheduled for the hour; he still has time to get here somehow, I suppose. You don't know where your son is?"

Taking a seat across from the teacher's desk, Gendo shook his head and looked at the empty chair beside him with dissatisfaction.

This is not part of today's scenario.