When the NERV staff finally awoke from their Somnacin-induced sleep, Shinji had already vanished, leaving behind a vacant chair and a hypodermic needle that had been hastily torn out of his arm. A drop of blood hung precariously from the point. It was Cobb who spoke the obvious: "He ran away."
Neon Psychosis Evangelion 09:
Lost and Found
Shinji rode the trains late into the early evening when the batteries in his SDAT player finally died. Abandoned to the silence, the memories of the battle returned to him. He could feel where Shamshel's tendrils had pierced his flesh; they burned like an electric blanket beneath his shirt. Something crawled beneath the skin of his head, working its way into his mind. The presence of another mind pained him, burned him, made him want to tear his skull apart just to remove the alien.
Shaking now and sweating now, the boy raked his hands over his bare arms as the other invaded his entire being, spreading the fire through his bloodstream, until his toes burned. His head pounded in his skull as the invader laughed inside him. Shinji doubled over in his seat, clutching at his head, nails finding the roots of his hair and pulling in an attempt to remove the foreign presence from inside him. Breath came in ragged, strained gasps; sweat dripped from his head and goose-flesh raised over his arms and legs, despite the temperate climate. He found his voice and screamed against the painful memories.
"Are you really that afraid of the contact?"
It was the figure sitting across from himself who spoke. Female, but unidentifiable though his blurry vision. The words weren't spoken aloud, but within his head.
"You chose to fight, to pilot, and now you have run away."
Shinji fell over onto the bench, pulled his knees to his chest, and buried his face in them. Arms reached up and covered his head to shield it from her words.
"You're choices cause you pain, and you regret them. You would avoid pain, but you chose to pilot. Pain comes with piloting, and you know this. Why then, did you choose to pilot if you wish to avoid pain?"
He screamed at her to go away, tried to block out her words.
"Why did you fight, Shinji? Why do you fight? Will you fight? Will you abandon everyone simply to avoid the pain it causes to protect them?"
The fire inside him caused his vision to go white; when he opened his eyes next, he was sitting alone on the bench, his SDAT player switched from track 25 to track 26. He heard the music; he was awake.
"Thank you for using the Tokyo-3 Loop Line," sounded the toneless announcer. "This train will be going out of service at this station. Please make sure you take all of your belongings with you when you exit the train."
Where now?
The all-night movie theater was nearly devoid of life, from what Shinji could see. At least three people were asleep in various positions, and there was one couple ignoring everything but each other. Projected onto the screen was a classic B-movie depicting the aftermath of Second Impact. The setting of the movie was left vague, but Shinji guessed it was New York; he recognized the World Trade Center towers in the skyline. And it was a safe bet that a disaster movie would be set in the city that never sleeps.
He'd shut off the SDAT player, but left the earbuds in, allowing him to observe the outside world without seeming to do so; it was a technique he sometimes employed in crowded areas. People were surprisingly open about their personal lives in groups and even more so when they thought no one else was listening.
While the hammy actors onscreen recited some technobabble about the proportions of the meteor and the scale of the tsunami (both of which sounded ridiculously inaccurate) Shinji watched the handful other moviegoers with something approaching distaste. At least two men were asleep; one had his feet up on the chair in front of him, and the other was laid out across the aisle. From the way his shoes stuck on the way in, Shinji wouldn't have repeated the man's actions unless it was for a good sum of money. A third man was possibly awake, but held an open book that he was much more engrossed in. Or he was asleep, like the other.
But it was the couple sitting three rows ahead that his eyes focused on. He couldn't hear what they were saying above the overacting in the film, but they visibly giggled. Someone else might have described them as cute; Shinji didn't know what to call them. What he did know was that their interaction intrigued him – and somehow irritated him at the same time. Is that normal? No one does that with me. It wasn't until the boy leaned over and kissed the girl that Shinji stood up and left. No one noticed.
He drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours on a cushioned bench in the lobby. No one noticed.
When the morning came, Shinji shuffled out into the waxing sunlight, SDAT on full blast, eyes on the ground. The feeling of claustrophobia – like he had experienced on the train car – returned, accompanied by a buzzing in his head that drowned out the music.
Shinji.
He froze in place, shaking.
You are running away.
The voice echoed inside his head.
Is this your decision?
"Get out!" He clutched at his skull as if it would be enough to purge the presence from his mind. "Get out of my head!"
Choose.
Breaking free of his trance, Shinji ran. With no destination in mind, he ran.
A few hours and a bus ride later, Shinji sat on the edge of a cliff, knees hugged tightly to his chest. A constant, cool breeze whips at his hair and clothes, several degrees lower than anyone usually experienced in Japan these days. Tokyo-3 occupied the valley below, from mountains to lakeshore. His eyes traced the tops of the skyscrapers absently. Even from a bird's eye view, tracing a route through the streets was difficult bordering on insane.
That's when something occurred to him. Misato had mentioned once that the city was built to be a fortress in the years following the Impact Wars (or World War III, depending on who you asked). Even after the fighting had stopped, the world wasn't going to take chances. With Old Tokyo bombed out, and the United Nations moved to Tokyo-2, Tokyo-3 was built to withstand any sort of attack. But Shinji recognized the layout for what it was: a labyrinth. The layout was designed to deliberately confuse invaders, just like the layout of NERV Headquarters in the GeoFront.
Where they really expecting to be invaded? Shinji supposed it didn't matter.
Time crept by. The sun followed its daily route across the sky, passed the apex, and continued onward.
Something else Misato said echoed in his mind. Look Shinji. This is your city now. All of the people living in it, whether they know it or not, owe their lives to you. This is what we at NERV are fighting to defend.
This was…his city? The Angels were coming to destroy everything; he had defeated two of them. Could he keep going? Did he think he could handle however many more there were? Was he really going to fight for total strangers?
Slowly he got to his feet and stared down the side of the mountain. He teetered on the edge of the cliff until vertigo made him take a step back.
Tokyo-3.
"I should go back." He couldn't go back to Misato, not after he had run out on her like that. With that he seated himself again and it was some time before he remembered the folded piece of paper in his pocket, the one with an address printed on it in scratched-out English and then again in Japanese.
The rain had begun by the time Shinji reached the apartment at the far end of the city; he was dripping wet as he approached the door. Having come all this way, wandered around for two days, he hesitated. Was it really all right to disturb her? She'd said to come see her if he needed to talk. This qualified, he supposed. Even so, his knock was hesitant and quiet, like he was deliberately trying not to be noticed.
He nearly got his wish, but after a long silence, sounds of activity surfaced from within. Dreary-eyed, Ariadne pulled open the door and leaned against it, obviously having just woken up. "Who – it's three in the morning; who…Shinji?"He only nodded. "What are you doing here?"
"I…ran away. I didn't know anywhere else to go and you said I could – no. I…I should go. Sorry for bothering you so early."
"Shinji wait!" She caught his arm as he turned to leave. "Yeah, I said you could – look, it's just – come in."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
The inside of Ariadne's apartment was very much like Misato's; the rooms, kitchen, and bathroom seemed to be all in the same place. She took him into the kitchen and sat him at the table while she fished out a soda from the fridge. With the light on, he could finally see what she was wearing: a tank top and short-shorts. Apparently she and Misato both had similar ideas of comfort and modesty – she didn't seem to care that she was dressed like that in front of a fourteen year-old boy.
In one fluid motion, she snapped the top off of the soda and downed it nearly instantly. Kinda like Misato. "Okay, now I'm awake," she said. "Want something?"
"No, thank you."
She sighed and fiddled with the tab. "Alright, then. Why don't you tell me why you're here? No one's seen you since the Angel fight. Misato's beside herself and Section 2's been looking all over the city. What happened?"
He told her how he'd walked out into the country and back and ridden the train to get here. He didn't mention the incident on the train, however. All he gave her was superficial details, though.
"Why did you run away? You never said why."
"I…it hurts to pilot the Eva. Everything it feels, I feel. Whenever it gets tossed around or shot at, I feel that inside the Plug. I knew you could feel pain within a dream, but I never expected this. I can't do this anymore; I won't!" He gripped the seat of his chair hard enough to turn his hands red, and he was shaking.
"But you came back, didn't you?" Ariadne questioned gently, not like he expected Misato or Ritsuko to speak. "If you don't want to do it anymore, why are you here?"
He couldn't look at her. "I don't know."
"I think you do know. You had to be thinking something, or else you would have kept walking." She drained the last of the soda and set it aside thoughtfully. "Shinji, I'm not your parent or you guardian, I don't really work for NERV, so I have no authority to tell you what to do, but I am going to suggest that you speak to Misato; she's worried about you. Even if you don't want to go back, at least tell her that you're safe."
"I don't know what to do, Ariadne."
"Stay here, then."
"What? No, I couldn't – "
"At least tonight; you're not going out this late without some sleep, anyway. Think about what you want to do; sleep on it." She reached across the table to touch his face, a contact he shied away from. "Rest and we'll talk in the morning, ok?"
He was tried; he hadn't slept in a long time. Time just seemed to slip away while he had been walking. Now it was catching up to him, as was his hunger. "O-okay. Th-thank you, Aridane."
"Oh, no it was – Arthur!"
"What…what the hell is going on?"
Shinji whirled around in his seat. Standing in the doorway was a shirtless Arthur, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes. "Shinji? What – Ariadne, what's going on?"
Ariadne rose abruptly from the table and spoke to Shinji while glaring at Arthur. "There's some leftovers in the fridge – it didn't sound like you ate anything recently, so help yourself. We don't have a spare bed, but the room down the hall and to the right out of here has a couch and some blankets. Right now, I need to speak with Arthur."
She pushed Arthur out of the doorway and down the hall; Shinji couldn't see where, but he heard a door shut. He didn't really want food at the moment, but knew he needed something, so he grabbed the first apple he saw and habitually traced the path to his room. Just like she said, there was a couch with a blanket. Why was it there?
Without much maneuvering, he settled into the makeshift bed. The blanket wasn't thick, but in the perpetual spring of Japan, it didn't need to be. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard voices drift in from elsewhere, hushed but urgent
"…can't just stay here!"
"I'm not sending him back, not unless he wants to."
"He doesn't have a choice, he's the Third Child! No one else can do what he does."
"I won't have this discussion, Arthur. He's staying here and if you don't like it, then leave. This is my apartment, after all."
Silence.
"Fine. We'll talk more in the morning, then?"
"That's probably for the best."
The next few minutes were awkward as they both cooled off and settled back into bed. When they spoke nest, it was barely above a whisper, so that Shinji couldn't make out the individual words.
"...in the other room!"
"…quiet then…"
"No. Not tonight."
"Fine."
Shinji wanted to get up and leave right then and there. Already he was causing other people problems. Only his exhausted stayed his feet. And Aridane had been so nice about it, he couldn't just leave. That would have been rude, after her hospitality. He turned over and faced the back of the couch. Sleep came eventfully, but it was a restless sleep.
Morning came too quickly. Shinji was already awake when Ariadne poked her head in the room and whispered, "Shinji?" He stirred but kept his face turned away from her. "I know you're awake, but if you don't want' to talk, that's fine, just listen. Arthur's agreed not to say anything to NERV, so you're safe here for now.
"We need to talk, we really do, but…when you're ready." The door shut softly and he turned over to face another unfamiliar ceiling.
Shinji spent two days with Ariadne, during which, he hardly spoke. Arthur didn't return after that first night and Shinji worried he might have destroyed a relationship because of his indecision, which only deepened his silence. Ariadne came and went but not without making sure he was alright. He did, however, leave a message on Misato's answering machine while she was at work, after which he turned off his cell phone; he didn't really feel like speaking to her.
It was over dinner on the second night that he decided to break his silence. "Ariadne," he said softly, picking at his food. If she was surprised to hear him, she didn't show it, making sure to appear as if taking it in stride. "You said – you said we needed to talk."
"Are you ready to talk?"
"Yes." He said no more, leaving it up to her. It was no less than she had expected.
She started with the most obvious question. "Why did you run away?"
"Because I didn't want to be a pilot anymore."
"Why did you come back?"
"There was nowhere else for me to go."
"Why did you come here?"
"You said I could; there was nowhere else."
"What about Misato's? Isn't she your guardian?"
"She'd just yell at me."
"That's only because she's worried about you."
"No she's not; she'd say I disobeyed orders or something."
Clearly, she had her work cut out for her. She kept at it, changing the subject, though. "You said that you didn't want to be a pilot anymore. Do you still feel that way?"
"I don't know. Whenever I pilot, I get hurt, but – "
"But?"
"If I don't, then the people around me will get hurt, and I don't want that."
Ariadne had heard some vague details about the last Angel assault, but no one had been willing to share specifics. All she knew was that Shinji hesitated and nearly got himself killed. But when he saw that projections of his friends were in danger, he jumped into action. That sounded an awful like Cobb and Mal, she thought.
"Are the lives of your friends important to you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Are you still afraid of getting hurt?"
"Yes."
"Then you have to decide, Shinji, what it is you want. Will you fight, and if so, what will you fight for?"
"It's not that simple," he said through clenched teeth.
"I understand that – "
Both fists slammed onto the table, sending his plate clattering to the floor. "No you don't! You can never understand what it means to be a pilot! To have to fight those horrible things called Angels; to feel the pain that isn't your own; to not be alone even in your own head!" He closed his eyes against the memories and felt tears form.
Abandoning her gentle tone, Ariadne spoke with stern conviction. "That's why I said it has to be your decision, Shinji. No one else can make it for you. As hard as it is, you have to decide. What will you do?" The question hung unanswered in the air.
Abruptly, he stood up and stalked away, disappearing into his makeshift room. Defeated, Ariadne gathered up the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, leaving Shinji to work out his feelings alone. When she was finished, she sat back down with a drink, alcoholic this time. It barely reached her lips when there came an urgent knocking on the door.
There to great her were three Section 2 agents. "We're here to retrieve the Ikari child."
"He's not here," she replied a bit too angrily. "So if you don't mind – " The Agent caught the door before she could slam it in his face.
"We know he's here and we are under orders to bring him back to NERV."
"Whose orders?"
"Ikari's."
They made to push past her when Shinji appeared in the hallway.
"Its okay, Ariadne. I'll go with them; I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."
"Shinji…"
"That's not for you to decide. Now please, come with us. The Commander awaits." It was not a request. Reluctantly, Ariadne stood aside as Shinji joined the three Agents.
"Don't worry, Ariadne," the boy smiled at her.
An Agent slammed the door before she could say anything back, which was just as well because he only response was to throw her beer at the closed door and scream, "Fuck!"
Gendo Ikari rarely ventured outside his spacious office. If anyone wished to speak him, nine times out of ten, they could find him sitting at his death, beneath the illuminated diagram of the Kabalistic Tree of Life. But not today. Today, Ikari paced back and forth across the walkway of Cage 7. Arms folded behind his back, his face a mask devoid of emotion, Ikari would do a smart about-face at either end of the walkway. Under the stoic gaze of Unit 01, Gendo Ikari pondered.
I suppose I should not have expected any different from him. But I had always hoped – hoped he would simply jump right up and pilot. But he's just as screwed up as I am. What do I do?
Gendo stopped and faced the purple monstrosity. "What do I do? Yui – Tell me what to do!"
No response. He stood gripping the railing for several minutes before the world around him blurred as the Somnacin dissolved in his blood and he awoke in his office, hands folded across his face. With efficient indifference, he removed the hypodermic and stashed the PASIV device under his desk. On cue, there came a knock.
"Enter."
The door slid open, but Fuyutsuki remained beyond the threshold. "They found your son. He's in Section 2 custody and on his way here."
"I see. Have him brought to my office."
"Understood."
A single drop of blood rolled down his arm.
Cobb pressed the barrel of the gun to Thompson's head. As much as the former Extractor appeared composed, Cobb observed a bead of sweat run down his neck. He was nervous. He wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or not. That was exactly where he and Arthur wanted him.
"You're very good, Thompson, you wouldn't have been in Gehirn's top class otherwise, but I'm afraid we've outsmarted you." It wasn't Cobb who spoke, but Eames. Arthur frowned at the Brit, but Cobb wasn't bothered. It was his dream, after all, might as well let him take charge of it.
"You guys…" Thompson's eyes darted from Cobb to Eames to Arthur and back. "How did you do that? How did you fool me for so long? I'm the best Extractor out there!"
Cobb leaned in close, pressing the barrel harder. "No, Mr. Thompson, I'm afraid that title belongs to me. I'm the best Extractor there ever was. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to outsmart you."
Arthur conspicuously checked his watch, making it seem as if they were running late. Which they were; Thompson had managed to evade them for much longer than they had expected in the second level – he even managed to get a hold of his Totem, which was how he discovered their deception. He woke up, tied to a chair with Arthur waving a gun in his face.
Trembling, the man stumbled over his words. "Th-this is still a dream! I-I know…it has to be! The best of us….w-we always went at l-least two l-levels down!"
"That is what they taught us at Gehirn," Cobb agreed. "But Gehirn is gone, now Thompson. After the accidents, they shut us down. I haven't obeyed a single one of their rules in years. Even if we were by-the-book Extractors, you can't reach your totem. You can't prove this world isn't real. So are you willing to risk your life over it?"
Thompson tried to jerk his head away from the gun and tipped the chair over by accident. "This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real," he repeated to himself.
Cobb kicked him in the stomach and pressed the gun to his cheek. "What is the combination?" He was practically screaming by now. He wasn't used to this; most of his marks had been corporate bigwigs, untrained in the finer arts of dream-sharing. Even those with some knowledge only knew how to defend themselves – going down two levels was usually enough to get the information. Extracting a fellow Extractor required more direct force. Kidnapping on all levels, varying levels of torture, and often a longer subconscious stay.
Thompson eyed the gun, then the safe, then the gun, then Cobb. "3.1415926."
"Pi?" Arthur asked. "Seriously?"
"I like that number," Thompson insisted. "It doesn't repeat itself, like you clowns."
Cobb swallowed hard. "Eames, open the safe. Now. Quickly!"
Cobb kept the gun pressed on Thompson, showing no outward emotions, but inside he was panicking. Thompson knew. He had to know. But why would he give up the combination so easily? The captive man started to grin.
"Got it, Cobb."
"What does it say?"
Silence for nearly a minute as Eames skimmed the documents. "Everything. It's just like Kretzer."
"Then we can't let him go," Arthur said.
"No." Cobb let up on the gun. There was no reason to threaten him anymore. "Why are you going to see Miles?"
"Why wouldn't I go see Miles? He's the only one that can help us."
"Miles doesn't work with Gehirn anymore, Thompson. He doesn't work with anyone. He's just an architecture professor now."
"No!" For the first time, Thompson struggled against his bonds. "He has to help us! He doesn't know what they're planning! Miles would know how to stop it."
"Why would you want to stop it?" Arthur asked, moving close. "We're over there making sure the Angels don't win. Why would you want to stop that?"
A sick grin cracked Thompson's face. "He doesn't know. Aahaha! He doesn't know!"
"What don't I know?" Arthur first asked Thompson, but the man was too busy laughing insanely, so he turned to Cobb and Eames. "What is he talking about?"
"Nothing," Eames answered quickly. "He's mad, just like Kretzer was. Too much dream sharing ruins your mind. Thompson's the edge now."
Before Arthur could ask another question, the room filled with the echoing of slowed-down French music. Time was up.
Father and son faced each other from a distance: Shinji, standing, hands shackled in front of him; Gendo, sitting at his desk, hands folded. Neither smiled, neither frowned. Carefully, they avoided each other's eyes, mutual uneasiness being the only thing that could ever hope to bridge the chasm that separated them.
Gendo spoke first, direct and to the point. "NERV may be a clandestine organization, but we are technically employed by the United Nations. The ranks we hold here are not for show; Ms. Katsuragi is indeed a Captain. I am a Commander. We exist for the sole purpose of defeating the Angels and preventing the destruction of the human race. As, such, your little stunt not only was desertion of the military, but it also potentially compromised global security. Had you not alerted Section 2 to your presence, the order would have come to down to eliminate you."
Shinji's surprise was visible. "You…would have me killed?"
"Not me, the UN Security Council. Outside of NERV and the Oversight Committee, the Angels are not known to the populace. If word of their existence got out, it could cause a worldwide panic. Do you understand?"
"…Yes."
Another moment of awkward silence passed. Shinji inclined his head ever so slightly, just enough to avoid his father's gaze.
"However. You returned of your own will. No secrets were leaked. The integrity of NERV remains intact. We cannot ask for more than that, therefore, it if the advice of the Oversight Committee that no sanctions be placed on you at this time. Consider this your warning. If you disobey orders again, for any reason, we will not stay our hand. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"Release him." An agent appeared from the shadows near the door and unlocked the triple levels of handcuffs.
"What about…um, Aridane? Is she going to be…?"
"She will not be punished; however, a record of this incident will be kept."
Shinji massaged his wrists where the cold metal had bit into his flesh.
"That will be all. Dismissed."
Thompson slumped forward in his seat, sagging against the restraints that held him upright and in place. The girl with the skirt and glasses tore her hands away from his head reluctantly and dabbed at the blood under nose. She examined it perfunctorily before licking it clean.
'Thank you, Mari," Saito said with a polite nod.
"My pleasure."
To no one in particular, the again Asian businessman said, "We'll get a cleanup crew in here shortly. No one will ever know he existed. Thank you, Mr. Cobb, Mr. Arthur, Mr. Eames; you have done an excellent job."
Arthur folded his arms and shifted his glance from Saito to Thompson, a thin stream of drool hanging from his lower lip. Saito motioned for Mari to follow him and they turned to leave.
"What exactly did we keep him from leaking?" Arthur asked.
Saito and Mari stopped dead. Eames and Cobb jerked their heads toward him.
"What's so important that we had to do everything but kill two men for?"
"Why, the Angels, Mr. Arthur. If knowledge of the Angels ever became public, we would have global panic on our hands, one on the magnitude that followed Second Impact."
"Why would Thompson want to let it out?"
Arthur refused to look at either Cobb or Eames who were shoot daggers at him. He remained fixed upon the back of Saito's head
"Because he is insane."
Saito waited for Arthur to say anything – anything – but a long moment passed in silence, which he took for acceptance. Saito signaled again to Mari and they left the room. When they were safely out of earshot, he said to Mari, "Remind me to keep an eye on that one."
"I don't understand why you didn't just let me handle him."
"Because he is a skilled Extractor. Cobb trusts him with his life. Cobb is the best there is and the only one we can rely on."
"I thought you said we couldn't rely on anyone?"
With a wry smile, Saito ruffled her hair. "You catch on quick."
Ritsuko had had quite the week. First the Angel attack. While it had almost been a failure, the Core of the Fourth Angel hadn't been damaged significantly, allowing the MAGI to run a thorough scan of its structure; the data gleaned now ran on a continuous feed to her personal terminal – a ceaseless feed of 1's and 0's. Then the Third Child ran away and was missing for…she didn't actually know how long he'd been gone. And now she had two days to solve any remaining problems with Unit 00 before they attempted to synchronize it with Rei again.
Like anything I can do will make a difference. It's an Eva, not a machine. What the hell am I supposed to do with it?
She drank her coffee angrily, ignoring the scalding of the inside of her mouth, needing the caffeine if she was going to get anything done today. She sighed. I need a cigarette. After hunting around her desk for an empty space to set her mug, Ritsuko had to root through her papers to find the damn carton.
Figures. Never around when I need the damn things. Huh? What's this?
It was a manila envelope, small enough so that only an index card could be slid inside. She most certainly did not remember this being here before; as much of a mess as it seemed, Ritsuko knew where everything was located (except the cigarettes).
"Maya? Are you out there?"
"Yes, sempai. What is it?"
"Nothing. Just…wait right there."
In case it's a bomb or poison or something.
Very carefully, she opened the folder. Nothing happened. Well, what had she expected? Working in secret for so many years had turned her paranoid. Inside was a small card, not much bigger than a standard business card. On one side was the holographic logo of ENCOM. On the reverse was a handwritten note – almost chicken scratch, but she recognized the script.
This might come in handy soon.
Flynn,
Curious, the blond tipped the remaining contents into her hand. An old flash drive memory stick. It, too, was embossed with the ENCOM logo.
"Maya, are you still out there?"
"Yes, sempai."
"Come in here, and bring your laptop. I want to see something."
Maya appeared less than a minute later dutifully and handed her computer to her impatient mentor. As soon as the drive was inserted into the USB port, a window opened displaying pages of data. At first she didn't understand; the mathematics being shown to her were purely theoretical, far beyond the scope of – suddenly it clicked.
"Take a look at this, Maya!" She practically shoved the screen in her student's face. Like with herself, the revelation was slow coming.
"What…what is this?"
"A gift," she said. "A gift from an old friend."