Everyone thinks they're brave until the four hundred foot lizard starts stomping their way with murder in his eyes. Then some of them prove it.
- Commander Douglas Gordon, in a speech to the American Congress after Godzilla's reemergence. December 16th, 1984.
†
It was a cold rain, a downpour that blanketed everything the navigation lights illuminated in a haze of grey and whipped at your face like ground glass. It wasn't helped by the fact that the sea had grown choppy in the storm, the boat groaning and shifting beneath the crew's feet as ten-meter waves buffeted the bow. With each thundering blow seawater would come rushing over the deck, washing against their ankles and reminding them that perhaps it'd be the next one that dragged them overboard.
Wilhelm kept one hand on a safety line as he walked along the portside, and held a flashlight in the other, intent on making sure nothing was out of place before the big haul. Something as simple as an unsecured cable could spell disaster when you were hauling literal tons of fish aboard. Thankfully, it seemed the crew had done their job, and so he made his way back to the stern.
Johann was overseeing the preparation for the nets, and despite being on the job for ten years still jumped when Wilhelm tapped his shoulder. The younger man whirled about, and automatically leaned in so they could actually hear whatever the hell the other was saying.
"Captain radio in yet about the shoal?" Wilhelm asked, voice practically a yell.
"Sonar says we're right on top of it," Johann screamed in reply. "We're getting ready to drop."
"And we're in the clear, right?"
"Should be."
Wilhelm nodded, but still felt a twinge of concern. Industrial fishing like this had been hard enough when it was legally. Patrol boats had been making a comeback, which he thought was stupid. They hadn't given a shit when half the world drowned and everyone needed food, but now they were going on about "sustainability"?
"Dropping net!" Johann barked.
Cables whirred and whined as the scrunched-up net was lowered roughly into the choppy sea, and the boat slowed slightly as it unfurled to the size of a baseball field. Almost immediately the crane began to bend, and Wilhelm felt a grin come on as he realized they were snagging a big haul. It'd been getting harder and harder to meet demand, even by the smaller standards of the black market.
"Pulling net!" Johann said.
The crane whirred again, and promptly stalled.
Wilhelm's grin vanished. They'd just inspected the crane yesterday- what could've caused it to crap out like that? The damn thing was rated for five tons.
Johann's radio crackled, and he listened in, then turned back to Wilhelm. "Captain says the shoal just disappeared from sonar."
"That's not possible. We've been chasing it for two hours!"
"Well the captain says it's gone."
Wilhelm asked with growing concern, "Then what's in the net?"
There was another groan, and he looked to see the crane bend further, dangerously far. There was a rolling in his stomach, and he realized the entire ship was listing backwards. He heard something big moving, and looked just in time to see a loose crate rolling down the starboard side towards Sven, another crewmate. There was no time to cry out a warning before it slammed into the young man, and even through the roar of the storm he could hear his scream as he tumbled overboard.
Then the crane snapped, and the entire world jumped as the bow of the ship slammed back into the water. Wilhelm hit the deck hard, seawater washing over his face, and he rolled onto his back with a sputter. His head throbbed with pain, but that was secondary to the animal panic rising in his chest. Elbows leaning against the cold metal of the deck, he tried to rise.
Something else rose first.
A massive bulk emerged from the dark waters, its silhouette a shadow that ate half the sky. In the illumination provided by the navigation lights, he got only glimpses of rain cascading down charcoal scales, but that was enough. The fear of the unknown was replaced by the cold terror of the familiar. He suddenly remembered the stories of the world before this one told by older fishermen, of how the shadow before him could mimic the quarry of whalers and fishermen alike, and in turn make them his prey.
A hundred feet above him, eyes like smoldering fires studied the boat with contempt as deep as the sea. In that moment, Wilhelm wondered how anyone could've thought he'd died- his was a hatred that could outlive the earth. It was a hatred that now drove him to curl his claws into a fist, and raise them over his head.
"Wait," Wilhelm found himself saying, though he knew his plea would go unheard. "Wai-"
†
Sven didn't remember how he found the lifeboat. Everything had been a blur after the crate hit him. He remembered only flashes- paddling in the cold sea, where a single wave could spell his doom; the ship becoming undone as a monster smashed it to pieces; debris and bodies surrounding him.
He'd stripped off his soaked clothes, even as the cold rain continued to stab at his bare skin, and lain curled in a ball on the bottom of the lifeboat. He couldn't even think of checking the supplies, or looking for survivors, or anything other than shivering. It was as though an icy claw had enclosed about his mind, driving all other thoughts from him.
Then, suddenly, it became very warm. Not the false warmth that came with cold death, when the body gave up the struggle to survive- this was true warmth, a hot and moist breeze that banished the rain and caressed his clammy skin. New life filled his limbs, and he found the strength to crawl towards the supplies cache and pull out a blanket. Wrapping it about himself, he finally had the presence of mind to look and see what had caused the breeze.
Fiery orange eyes greeted his when he did, and with a growing pit in his stomach he realized the monster was so close he could stand up and lay a hand on its scaly snout. Said snout flared, and Sven realized the source of the warmth as its hot breath washed over him. Despite the terror of his situation, he felt a strange calm come over him. There was nothing he could do if it wanted him dead, after all.
The monster -he knew its name, yet all he could think in the moment was monster- glared at his naked form with its burning eyes, like a god weighing his bared soul. All Sven could do was await its verdict, and accept what came next.
Then, without warning, it turned away and vanished beneath the waves, and the only company Sven had was the sea. For some time he simply stared at the churning waves, then began to half-laugh, half-weep. Collapsing to the deck, he pulled the dampening blanket about himself, rocking gently as he pondered the meaning of why he had been spared where others had perished.
When the rescue crew found him three hours later, and rushed him to their sickbay to treat his severe hypothermia, he was still pondering why.
†
"Another fishing vessel, this time near the Cape of Good Hope," Fuyutsuki said, eyes on the report. Without looking, he put down another go stone on the board. "Yet again, there was a half-mad survivor."
Gendo placed his own stone on the board. "He spares them deliberately. It's a tactic he's put to practice for sixty years. He knows that dead men cannot tell tales that will frighten away the others."
"Like Genghis of old," Fuyutsuki said. "It's a tactic that's making things difficult for us. It's been three weeks since he awoke, and we're now in the estimated time range the MAGI gave us for when the leaks would become uncontainable. Half of Japan likely already knows he's back- why are we still insisting on this particular coverup?"
"The old men are convinced we need to demonstrate the viability of the Evangelion project before we can go public." There was a hint of exasperation in Gendo's tone, one few people would ever notice. "After all, we have been attacked twice by Angels, and on neither occasion did we kill it. Never mind the extenuating circumstances."
"Those 'extenuating circumstances' aren't likely to go away." Fuyutsuki pondered his next move for a moment. "Though we haven't had any further sightings of that Ultraman specimen. Perhaps luck is on our side for once, and it returned to wherever it came from, after thinking its job here was done."
"We cannot rely on luck," Gendo replied. "When the Thunder of God comes soon, and we prepare to defend against it, we shall do so with expectations of Ultraman intervening as before."
Fuyutsuki placed his stone on the board with a soft clack. "And potentially winning as before. Between it and Gojira, the old men do not seem happy in the slightest. You know they will pressure us to try and remove those factors from the equation before they endanger the scenario. Assuming they don't try it themselves with their little project on the Moon."
"I have been placating them with research into Project O." Gendo placed a stone of his own, and captured eight of Fuyutsuki's. "As long as they are content with progress on a god-slaying weapon, they will not take actions of their own in a way that threatens our scenario."
"Hmph. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were taking things on faith." Fuyutsuki studied the board, visibly frustrated. "I take it you won't tell me whatever you're keeping close to your chest?"
Gendo allowed himself a small smirk. "You know me well enough to have the answer."
"Unfortunately I do," Fuyutsuki sighed. He hastily placed a stone on the board. "Whatever you have, I hope it's enough. That Ultraman worries me. Putting aside the orange blood pattern that emphatically puts it outside of Angelic matters, the fact the old men are up in arms about it tells me it's not even related to their lunar assets. It's a complete enigma in a scenario that cannot tolerate any."
"The Leviathan knows it. Its continuing survival tells us enough of its intent, if not its nature."
"That's not necessarily a good thing."
"Yes."
Gendo placed his last stone, and won the game. Fuyutsuki merely sighed and leaned back in his seat, gaze fixed on the vista beyond the windows that served as the walls. In the morning light, his expression betrayed more of his age than his graying hair or wrinkles- like all men who remembered the world before Second Impact, he was old before his time. Gendo was sure his own face would tell much the same.
"Man truly isn't the master of his fate, no matter how hard he tries." Fuyutsuki began to clear the board, returning the stones to their bowls. "He can spend fifteen years and quadrillions of yen constructing the greatest fortress in the history, protected by the apex of science and theology, and then a silver alien comes down and throws all of his designs into chaos. It's like God is mocking us."
"And yet Man continues forward."
The professor looked Gendo's way again. "Do you think this next attack will bring things back on course?"
He stood up from his chair. "If the next Angel is anything like what the Dead Sea Scrolls predicted it to be, mankind will need Evangelion."
†
It was still dark out when Shinji awoke, though perhaps 'dark' was no longer a term that applied to him. Over the past few days, he'd noticed that even the dead of night seemed as bright as an overcast noon. Glancing at the clock by his sleeping mat, he saw that it read 4:00 am in glaring red numerals. Another half-hour earlier than the day before, and yet he didn't feel even slightly groggy.
Gᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ.
He sat up on his mat. "Good morning, Hayata."
Iᴛ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ sɪx ᴅᴀʏs, ᴀɴᴅ sᴛɪʟʟ I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴏʟʟʏ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ.
"Well, at least you're in good company," said Shinji, wryly.
Standing up, he quietly padded over to the bathroom, taking special care to avoid waking the slumbering red beast down the hall. As strange as his situation was, it had its perks. Getting to take a nice shower before Misato used up all of the hot water was one of them. He actually hummed a little as he washed himself, something he couldn't recall ever actually doing before.
The clock read 4:15 when he returned to his room and dressed, and so he decided to do some light reading. A big part of it was to sate Hayata's burning curiosity about the world, but Shinji found that when he wasn't being told to read by his teacher at school and at home, he also liked to read. Who would've known that it'd just take being the host to an unfathomably ancient alien intelligence to rediscover that passion?
It still felt strange, how quickly he could read now. It was certainly why he only did it in the privacy of his room- he supposed that from an outsider's perspective, he would appear to be frantically flipping through the pages, like he was looking for a passage to quote in the essay he had to write before class started. By the time the clock read 4:45, he'd already finished the last of the prodigious encyclopedias he'd borrowed from the library, and now decided it was time for tv.
Making a mug of tea, he sat down on the floor and turned on the tv. Another perk of his situation was that he could have the volume only a hair above mute and still hear it clearly. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that early-morning tv was, well, early-morning tv. Even Hayata seemed to be quickly bored of watching city councilmen debate school lunch budgets.
"I really need to invest in a laserdisc player," Shinji mumbled.
Eɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ 'ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ɢᴀᴍᴇ' ᴄᴏɴsᴏʟᴇs.
"I didn't know you played games."
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴏsᴛ.
"I guess that makes-" Shinji paused. "Wait, how?"
Iᴛ ɪs sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ. I ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ʜᴏsᴛ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇs.
"Yeah, but that doesn't work with every game."
Tᴏ ʙᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ᴀɴ ᴀᴘʜᴏʀɪsᴍ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʙᴇɢs ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟsᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇs.
Shinji thought about pointing out that if he knew the phrase, he knew not to say it so stiltedly, but quickly decided against it. Turning off the tv with a sigh, he grabbed his SDAT from his pocket and put in the earbuds. With a click of a button, the familiar notes filled his head, drowning out the noise of the world, and he closed his eyes.
Wʜʏ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅʟʏ?
Shinji opened his eyes again. "Because I like it."
I ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. I ᴍᴇʀᴇʟʏ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ.
"Because..." He trailed off. "I mean... is this because you want to listen to different music?"
I ᴀᴍ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. The tone hadn't changed, yet Shinji didn't believe him. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴇʟʏ ᴏʙsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡɪᴅᴇʀ ᴠᴀʀɪᴇᴛʏ ᴏғ sᴏɴɢs, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴡᴀs ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ.
Shinji shrugged rather forcefully. "I don't see a problem."
Hayata seemed to decide now was a time to fold, and didn't pursue the topic further. Shinji closed his eyes again, and raised the volume slightly. For a little while, the outside world didn't exist, and it was good.
He made it all the way through the playlist, and was about to backtrack when the outside world intruded in the form of two alarm clocks screeching at once, followed swiftly by the pounding of footsteps from down the hallway as Asuka raced to get the shower before Misato. Opening his eyes, he saw that the clock on the wall read 6:30, and he sighed. Time to get started on making breakfast.
The only thing Asuka would eat was toast and eggs, so he was sure to make extra of that, and settled on some steamed rice for himself. Setting the table, he took his apron off and sat down to eat.
The door to Misato's room slid open, and his legal guardian shambled into the kitchen, the loud plodding of its feet giving kaiju a run for their money. The living corpse glanced at him with bleary eyes before it continued to the fridge and grabbed a can of Yebisu. Sitting down across from him, it methodically cracked open the can and took a long pull, and Shinji bore witness to the daily miracle of resurrection as Misato set down the can and smiled.
"Ahh, another beautiful day in Tokyo-3, eh?" She grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite. "A perfect day to go back to school."
"The hell it is!" Asuka called from the bathroom.
The door slid open, and she marched out, wearing shorts and an oversized shirt. A coat hanger was clutched in one hand, and she waved the school uniform hanging from it with exaggerated effect.
"What's this?" she demanded. "What is this?"
"That..." Misato replied playfully, "is your uniform."
"No it is not." Asuka held it up against her chest. "I have worn a school uniform. This is a fetish costume."
"It's more decent than what you're wearing right now," Misato pointed out, sipping her beer. "Just put it on. You have to wear it for school."
"That's the even greater indignity," Asuka huffed. "I have a bachelor's degree. Why on Earth would I need to go to middle school?"
"You skipped middle school, didn't you?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
Misato smiled and wagged a finger. "Think of it as a way to experience something you missed out on. Also, I'm your commanding officer."
The younger girl's eyes narrowed into slits, then fixed on Shinji. "You will say nothing."
Then she was off to her room, and Shinji waited until her door slid shut before looking over to Misato. "Is that why she's going to school?"
Misato laughed quietly. "Nope. It just makes security details a lot easier when you know where your most valuable assets are for most of the day."
"Oh." He sipped his tea, and focused back on his breakfast.
"Speaking of assets, you're going in for more testing and training after school. You might technically be on reserve now, but you're still an Eva pilot."
Shinji nodded, but said nothing. Something told him it was less genuine training, and closer to the "make Asuka go to school" rationale.
As if bidden by the thought, she barged out of her room, dressed in her uniform. Her body language and expression invoked the mental image of a Bengal tiger forced into a degrading cat costume, complete with the overdone bowtie, and like with a tiger Shinji found it prudent to avoid eye contact. The redhaired pilot sat down at the table, tugging at her collar absentmindedly.
"This feels starchy," she muttered. "They couldn't get better fabric?"
"It's bullet-resistant," Misato said, matter-of-factly. "Stab-resistant, too. There was a time only presidents and prime ministers could wear suits made from that."
That seemed to stroke the girl's ego, and she relaxed a little in her chair. "I wouldn't expect any less. Presidents are expendable compared to me."
Wait, I've still been wearing my old uniform instead of the one the school provided, Shinji thought. I've been missing out on a bulletproof uniform?
Yᴏᴜ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛᴘʀᴏᴏғ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ.
Oh yeah. Right.
Misato finished her beer in one impressive gulp, then stood up. "I'm gonna hit the shower. You two should head out soon."
Asuka waved the older woman off, not looking up from her breakfast as she tucked into her toast and eggs. Shinji risked a glance over at her. He didn't know where she got the idea of her uniform being designed by perverts, but he wouldn't deny that the blue fabric brought out the color of her eyes...
Said eyes looked towards him, and he quickly stared at his own plate.
"I'm getting tired of toast and eggs," she said. "Do you Japanese seriously only eat rice and fish for breakfast?"
"Sorry," he mumbled.
She made a face at that, but continued. "Sausage, bacon, maybe even waffles or pancakes... that's a real breakfast. Why can't you make that?"
"I'd have to go to an international market to find real bacon and sausage."
"So?" she huffed. "It can't be that much time out of your day. If you're going to be here, you could at least pull your weight."
He wanted to snap back that he'd make her bacon when she started pulling her weight in Angel fights, but he remembered what happened the last time he touched that particular nerve.
"Sorry," he mumbled again.
Asuka folded her arms, a flash of irritation on her face. "I swear, that's been half of your vocabulary since I got here."
Aᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ.
Shinji set his chopsticks on his bowl, and turned to better face her. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know, but anything sounds better than 'sorry', washout."
Shinji shook his head, then stood up and took his dishes to the sink. "How about 'we need to get to school'?"
"Whatever," she muttered.
He went to his room and grabbed his bookbag, idly noting how light it felt in his hands, then made for the door. Asuka was already waiting in the hall, her only bag a small purse hanging from her shoulder.
"C'mon, let's get going," she said, impatiently tapping her foot.
"Have fun at school!" Misato called from the bathroom. "And remember, no talking about Godzilla or Ultraman!"
"Ultraman?" Shinji repeated.
Is ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ᴜs ɴᴏᴡ?
They left the apartment and made for the stairs. Glancing over, Shinji saw that Asuka looked even surlier than before, a slight twitch to her eye.
"Mein Gott, what a nice little reminder," she muttered. "Ultraman. Did they get a toddler to come up with that name? Might as well just called him Egg-Eyes or something."
I ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴɪᴋᴇʀ, said Hayata.
"For once I'm glad NERV is paranoid about the public knowing anything," Asuka said. "At least I won't have to deal with everyone talking about that on my first day of school here. Speaking about school, why on Earth would they decide to reopen on a Thursday? Why not just let us enjoy some more time off and open on Monday?"
"What are you talking about?" Shinji asked. "It's Wednesday."
He swore he heard an audible crack as she twisted her head to glare at him. She opened her mouth, as if to try and refute him, then just looked ahead and grumbled.
"Goddamn jetlag."
I ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʜᴏᴡ ᴊᴇᴛʟᴀɢ ᴡᴏʀᴋs.
Shinji sighed.
†
The nonfunctional sling and elbow cast had been finally removed by Dr. Akagi, and now an equally-useless wrist splint had taken their place. The gauze patch on her eye stayed, however, and would continue to do so for another week. She did not question the reason, though she knew that the eye injury she sustained would have healed already for a human girl her age.
It did not bother her, of course. There could not be a her to bother. She merely noted that it obstructed in part her view through the window as she sat down for class.
The classroom was as superfluous as her eyepatch. She had already received all of the education she was required to know. She never did her classwork, nor did she ever listen to the teacher. She was simply required to be here, for reasons she did not bother to learn of. And so she sat at her desk and stared out the window, passively studying the world outside with hardly a thought.
That was how it had been before, at least. Now, the porcelain mask of her face was marred by the ever-so-slight furrow of her delicate brows. Her uncovered eye stared at nothing in particular, her focus instead on the memory of a few nights prior. Godzilla's supposed failure. The good star-swimmer, and its likely connection to Ultraman.
Godzilla's mind was at the back of hers, a portent of sights and sounds and feelings that was always close, yet always so far. She had been instructed to avoid diving into the kaiju's psyche for a few days, as to lessen the risk of detection. She seemed to be suffering strange physiological effects from not getting the answers she was looking for- an occasional clenching of the jaw, a constriction of blood vessels in her forehead.
What does it all mean?
Something tugged at her, something new, and she found herself turning to look at the door to the classroom. Classmate Ikari was arriving, a few minutes later than usual, but what had drawn Rei's attention was the tall girl striding confidently by his side. The long red hair, adorned with genuine A-10 nerve clips, told her immediately that this was the new pilot for Unit-01.
The class representative Horaki stood to speak with the newcomer, while Ikari went to his seat, which was right in front of Rei's. The boy seemed to be trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with her, and quietly opened his school laptop. She ignored him for the time being, instead watching as the Second Child walked to the chalkboard.
The redhaired girl seemed to be weighing which piece of chalk was worthy to be used by her, then she suddenly grabbed one and wrote her name in flowing Latin cursive. Once that was done, she turned to face the classroom, hands on her hips and head held high. Rei could feel the shallow confidence exuded from her, like a bright light hiding the blemishes.
"I am Asuka Langley Sohryu," she said, conspicuously using the western naming order in addition to her accent. "Pilot of Evangelion Unit-01."
The murmurs and exclamations that rippled across the classroom matched the shift in emotions perfectly. Idle interest became burning curiosity; thoughts on the foreign student's beauty intensified, sometimes turning into awe. The one holdout was Ikari and his strange opacity. All that Rei could glean from him was that he seemed worried about Sohryu potentially breaching some sort of confidentiality.
The fear was unfounded, of course. The explanation as to why, however, was in itself confidential.
A few hands shot up, and Sohryu began to call on them to ask their questions as though she were the teacher. The actual instructor himself seemed dumbstruck by the bombastic pilot, and simply allowed the usurpation of his classroom. Rei watched idly as Sohryu responded at length to the questions from her classmates regarding her role as humanity's last line of defense, her training, her blood type; all with a satisfied smile on her face.
She sensed that classmates Aida and Suzuhara had a desire to ask questions, yet they refrained, which she understood as rather uncharacteristic. Concentrating, she picked from Aida's mind the image of a giant of silver and red, and again her brow furrowed. He had seen the star-swimmer?
Sohryu finished with the questions, and her blue eyes fixed on Rei. Striding over, she chose the empty seat next to her and sat down, not bothering to take notes or even spare a glance to the teacher as he finally began his lecture. Turning in her seat to better look at Rei, she crossed her legs and leaned back casually.
"First Child, I presume."
Rei nodded. "You are Unit-01's new pilot."
"For now, anyway," Sohryu said, dismissively. "Once Unit-02 arrives next month they'll transfer me back. They can't have their best pilot stuck with a hunk of junk forever, after all."
She paused, as if expecting a retort to the barb, then frowned slightly. Rei merely noted the surface impressions of the girl's psyche, then turned and continued looking out the window.
"Who knows, maybe they'll bump you up to Unit-01 after I get my Eva back. Sure, it's an inferior model to Unit-02, but it must still be better than that prototype they have you assigned to."
"I will pilot the Eva I am assigned to." She didn't bother turning that time.
The frustration that briefly flared from Sohryu felt like scalding hot air on Rei's skin. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway. I'll be handling the Angels regardless of what I'm piloting."
Rei said nothing, and after a few moments heard Sohryu sit up properly in her seat and open her laptop. She sensed the frustration of before gradually fade as the newcomer began chatting with the other students via text. Aida and Suzuhara maintained that tension she'd felt from them before, while Ikari...
An enigma, as always.
It was... interesting.
†
Shinji found Kensuke and Toji sitting in the far corner of the room come lunchtime, hunched over as they spoke in whispers. That was already suspicious-looking enough, but the fact that Kensuke had stuffed both of their cellphones into a tinfoil pouch took it to outright conspiratorial. Bento in hand, he sat in the desk closest to theirs and cleared his throat.
"What's up?"
Toji looked ready to answer before Kensuke made a face, and instead said, "Nothing."
"Not to the commander's son, anyway," Kensuke grumbled.
Shinji frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Toji sighed. "Don't take it like that, man. It's just Ken being a little-"
"I don't get anything from him," Shinji interjected forcefully, and he felt as surprised as the others looked. "I haven't even had a real conversation with my dad in three years."
Kensuke grimaced. "Seriously?"
The fire inside quickly died, and Shinji simply nodded. Pulling his own phone out, he handed it to Kensuke.
"Put it in the bag. I wouldn't tell him anything."
Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ.
Kensuke seemed to weigh his options, then he took the phone and added it to the bag. Folding it shut and putting it under his knapsack, he leaned forward again, glancing briefly from side to side.
"Toji and I didn't go into the shelter when you left."
Mʏ ʜᴜɴᴄʜ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇɴ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ.
Shinji ignored Hayata. "Why?"
"Ken wanted to tape the fight with the giant Eva robot."
"I thought news companies would pay an arm and a leg for exclusive footage," Kensuke said, wistful.
Tʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Eᴠᴇɴ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴏʀ ᴇʀʀᴀɴᴛ ᴅᴇʙʀɪs, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴛʀɪᴄᴋᴇɴ ʙʟɪɴᴅ.
Shinji thought back to how he'd been deafened by Godzilla's roar, and wondered if the people who lived before Second Impact had some learned instinct to cover their ears and avoid looking directly at kaiju, the same way he'd been taught not to look at the sun.
"What did you guys see?"
"Everything," Kensuke hissed, eyes wild as he leaned even closer. "We saw that kaiju with the electric horns that Unit-01 killed. Or, uh, I guess that new Sohryu chick did."
He paused as two and two clicked together. "Holy shit, we're in a classroom with a kaiju slayer. That's, like, something only Dr. Serizawa-"
Toji cleared his throat rather forcefully.
"Right," Kensuke said, apologetically. "Anyway, we saw the whole thing. That kaiju, the Eva, Godzilla... and the craziest part is, they weren't even the biggest thing we saw."
"Godzilla was definitely the biggest thing," Toji interjected. "You were running around swearing and freaking out that you got to saw him."
"This is coming from the guy who fainted when he saw him," Kensuke retorted. He looked back to Shinji. "I'm not even joking. He swooned like something out of an old movie when Godzilla appeared."
"Tell him about the giant dude," Toji muttered, folding his arms.
Shinji knew this was almost certainly coming, and yet he still felt a twang of surprise.
"You saw Ultraman?"
"Son of a bitch!" Kensuke suddenly exclaimed, sitting upright.
A few of the surrounding classmates paused their lunch to look over, confusion and annoyance abundantly clear on their faces, and he laughed sheepishly. When they looked away, he leaned forward again, voice lower.
"They stole the name I came up with for it?" he hissed.
I ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜɪs ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
Shinji blinked. "That was you?"
"Yeah." Kensuke replied, sullen. He leaned back and pushed up his glasses. "When I tried to upload the video on the internet-"
"I thought you wanted to sell it to a news company?"
"He got impatient when they didn't return his phone calls," Toji answered tiredly.
Kensuke shot a glare, then cleared his throat. "When I tried to upload it, the site froze, and ten minutes later Section II was at my door, demanding the tape. 'Strict legal consequences for breaching information blackouts', that was what they kept on saying to me. Basically saying I'd be thrown in a dark cell for a long time if I tried to sell the video. Or talked about the giant silver man."
He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Fucking fascists."
Cᴇɴsᴏʀsʜɪᴘ. The word came out with the closest to an angry tone Shinji had heard from Hayata. Tʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴏʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴇᴀʀғᴜʟ. Aғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ, ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅᴠɪᴇᴡs ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇᴅ, ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏʀ ᴀ ʀᴇᴠᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴀɴ ʙʀɪɴɢ.
"I'm sorry that happened," Shinji said. "Miss Misato told me I couldn't talk about that Ultraman thing either, but I didn't know they were taking it that seriously."
"I don't know why they're even covering it up," Toji said.
"It's obvious," Kensuke grumbled. "They used my name for it. That means they didn't make it, they didn't know about it. They can't control it. Something popped out of light like something from a sci fi movie and killed an Angel like it was easy, and then it just disappeared. They must be terrified of Ultraman."
"What, so they're worried the guy who killed an Angel and saved the city... is then gonna destroy the city?"
"Or maybe just NERV. Or the entire human species. Or maybe this thing is actually benevolent, but NERV doesn't want it to be seen as competition to the Evangelion program." Kensuke threw up his hands. "They must know it can't stay hidden forever."
"Ken, the Section II lady who came to my door mighta been really nice and pretty, but I don't want to deal with that again."
"I'm not talking about us," he retorted. "There will be more Angel attacks, or even more kaiju coming this way. Ultraman might also come bail NERV out during those attacks like it did this one, and one of those times the entire city might see it. Think about how nobody buys the whole 'Godzilla isn't back' angle. We all heard him. There's rumors they're going to announce his return sometime next week."
Toji looked Shinji's way. "Whaddya think?"
Shinji leaned back, the desk squeaking against the linoleum floor as he shifted. His hand found his temple, pressing hard into the skin.
"I don't think we'll see Ultraman again," he said, finally.
†
The bell rang, a more sedate and gentle chime than the ones back in Germany, and Asuka swiftly sprang to her feet. Freedom at last. Even the soul-crushing prospect of having to do this all over again tomorrow and the day after failed to hamper the bounce in her stride as she made for the exit. Just a few more steps, and she could leave behind the false life, if only for the rest of the day.
She didn't see the class rep until she was blocking the doorway, a folder in her dainty hands.
"Excuse me, miss Sohryu," she said.
Asuka forced herself to stop, and, sucking in a breath, managed a smile.
"Hikari, right?"
"You got it," the class rep said, smiling warmly. "I hope you enjoyed your first day of school here in Tokyo-3."
Enjoyed was indeed a word. Perhaps a more fitting one would have been 'endured'. 'Survived' felt even closer.
"I'm glad for the warm reception," she said instead. Wasn't a lie, after all.
"That's good to hear!" The class rep sounded genuine enough. "I just wanted to catch you before you go to your whole saving the world work, and give you the class syllabus."
She held out the folder, and Asuka briefly tried to see if she could somehow shoot lasers from her eyes and vaporize the offending manilla.
"I'm pretty busy with the whole saving the world work, as you put it."
The class rep did not retract the folder. She still maintained her friendly smile, yet as she looked into her eyes, Asuka realized said smile was carved from steel.
She took the syllabus from Hikari. "You know this town pretty well, don't you? Maybe you can show me around sometime."
Hikari nodded. "That sounds like fun."
She moved aside, and Asuka was finally out of the classroom. There were a few students in the hallway, talking amongst themselves or making their way to the exits, but they all gave her a wide berth as she passed by. She didn't know when Shinji started walking by her side- he had joined her so silently, it was as though he could camouflage himself by being unfathomably unassuming.
Misato's Alpine was parked right by the curb, in what was probably an illegal parking space, but Asuka didn't care. She still wasn't used to the heat in this city, in a summer she had never known before. Glancing briefly to Shinji by her side, she wondered how on Earth he wasn't bothered by the searing sun. The washout wasn't even sweating.
She silently prayed to the inventor of air conditioning as she opened the passenger door and hopped into the car. She heard Shinji take the seat behind hers, and once the door shut Misato hit the pedal and took off.
"I thought I'd pick you up from your first day of school," she said. "Sugar the pill a little before you have to start walking to HQ."
"But you didn't pick me up on my first day," Shinji said.
Asuka smirked to herself. "Guess she only picks up actual pilots."
"Eh, I'd say it was more because Shinji could actually make it to HQ without complaining about the weather for the next five hours," Misato said.
She down her glasses and winked at the boy's reflection in the rear-view mirror. Asuka scowled and folded her arms. She'd trained her entire life for this- she could certainly handle a hot summer day better than some washout.
"Do you really think Doctor Akagi will fix that sync issue?" Shinji asked, warily.
Asuka turned in her seat to look back at him. "What, afraid you'll actually have to pilot?"
"No," he said suddenly, and she grinned at his flustered expression. "I... it's just..."
"Well, we're hoping we can fix it," Misato said. "Ritsuko says it's practically a fundamental law of applied metaphysics that you should be able to pilot, so the problem is probably just some hardware."
"Don't worry, washout," Asuka added. "By the time they fix it, I'll be back in Unit-02, and you can just play support."
Shinji folded his arms. "That's not what I was worried about."
His expression was surprisingly confident. If Asuka didn't know better, she would've thought he was speaking like an actual experienced pilot. She decided to change her angle of attack.
"Well, if they do make a pilot out of you, maybe they'll also fix the problem with lodging while they're at it." She clasped her hands. "Kaji should be coming back with Unit-02."
She swore she saw the faintest twitch from him. "Who's Kaji?"
"Who's Kaji?" Misato repeated. There was a creaking of leather, and Asuka glanced to see her guardian had suddenly gripped the wheel a lot tighter. "Oh... sometimes, I ask that question myself."
†
The man in the black suit was an unexpected snag.
No plan survived first contact with the enemy. That was the most important lesson he'd learned over the years, and he thus had constructed his plans -or lack thereof- with that warning in mind. There was no grand design, only goals, and a wide assortment of tools and techniques to get them. Which ones were to be used, if any, was wholly dependent on how the situation unfolded.
Such a philosophy was already proving its worth, considering the supposed new director of the Paris branch that had just walked into the command center and relieved the previous one of command. The old director, a stout Saradian woman in her sixties, had initially raised protest about the unorthodox manner in which she had been effectively fired, only for the man to pull a card from his jacket pocket and hand it to her. After that, she had simply nodded and left.
The new director, a middle-aged Japanese man, then promptly spent five minutes getting to know the other command staff, shaking their hands like a politician and asking them personal questions with an enthusiasm that bordered on the childish. Then, he had asked the Inspector on hand, one Ryoji Kaji, to give him a tour of the facility.
And so Kaji now found himself walking alongside the director, telling him things about the facility that anyone else could have, all while discreetly taking him in.
He wasn't armed, if the lack of any of the usual tells was accurate. No service pistol, no hidden knives in his sleeves, not even the slightly off-color skin on his finger pads that would have indicated hidden subcutaneous poison needles. The suit wasn't bulletproof like that of other officials, either- the fabric was of too high a quality, with none of the odd creases or rumpling that indicated pseudo-non-Newtonian fabric.
No scarring or calluses, and his jovial personality was beyond that of any M-10. He was not an assassin or guard, at the very least. That didn't mean he hadn't been sent here to disrupt the operation.
"You have been here some time, have you not, Mr. Kaji?" the director asked, smiling. "What do you think of Paris?"
Kaji figured some honesty ward off suspicion. "I haven't been able to enjoy the sights. Too busy."
"A shame." The director frowned and shook his head. "This is my first time here. Truly, a beautiful city."
"Eh, Paris would be more beautiful without all the Parisians," Kaji said with a small grin.
The director laughed, a gentlemanly chuckle as though he were in on some deeper joke. "That is a wonderful expression, Mr. Kaji."
Kaji glanced at a clock on the wall, and forced himself to not react to the time. The virus should have disabled the power two minutes ago.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Kaji?" the director asked, sounding innocent enough.
"Oh, I was just checking to see if it was my lunch break yet. I could show you our cafeteria next."
"Do they serve lemon chiffon cake here?" The director had a hopeful look. "That was my favorite back in Oslo."
"Maybe?"
That was when the lights went out, and Kaji felt relief that the electrician he'd bribed through six intermediaries had followed through on the contingency.
"Crap," Kaji said. "It must be an outage."
The director sighed in the darkness. "This is not going to look good on my record. We need to get back to the command center."
"You go back," Kaji said. "I have to report to security in person."
The director's face turned blank, then he nodded with a smile. "Indeed."
He turned about and walked back towards the command center, and Kaji continued on. He could navigate the darkness easily, and without cameras observing him he didn't have to worry about moving too fast. He was soon at the elevator to the lower levels, and forced the door open. Older NERV facilities had emergency cranks that could be manually operated to move elevators during power outages. They were designed to be used by three men at once -hence why they were phased out- but for him it was no issue.
By his estimates he had three minutes left. Working the crank, he soon made it to the lowest level, and opened the doors again. Sprinting down the hallway, he arrived at the vault, and thankfully found the codes for all five combination locks were good. Soundlessly, he swung the door open, and saw his prize.
On a small steel pedestal rested a orange brick of bakelite, no bigger than a portable tape player. Encased within was what appeared to be an embryo, still in the early stages where Man's ancient reptilian lineage could be seen. After a careful sweep for IR detectors, he picked it up, briefly pausing to study it.
He swore its oversized eye was studying him back.
Shutting the vault door, he stashed the sample away and hurried back to the elevator. Operating the crank, he raced back up to the proper floor with a minute to spare, and opened the door.
The director was waiting for him.
"I don't think they have lemon chiffon cake down there, Mr. Kaji," he chided, sounding more disappointed than anything else.
Kaji briefly considered caving the man's head in like an egg and running for it, but every instinct screamed to him that this was not a fight he could actually win. He understood now, that the director didn't have a weapon for the same reason he himself was unarmed.
He didn't need it.
"Do not worry, Mr. Kaji. I abhor violence myself. I would much rather you simply return that which you have stolen."
He smiled slightly, his expression still genuine. "I am sure you would rather go that route as well."
Kaji sighed, and produced the bakelite brick from a hidden pocket on the side of his pant thigh. The director took it, and held it some distance away as he looked it over, a slight grimace to his face. His eyes betrayed nothing of the thought processes underneath, yet the way they lingered for so long on the sample was in itself a damning tell.
And yet, he simply looked back to Kaji with a knowing smile.
"'Know when to fold them'. One of my favorite expressions."
He stepped to the side. "Now then, Mr. Kaji, I believe you have a boat to catch."
Kaji eyed him warily, then quickly stepped past him. Turning, he watched as the director stepped into the elevator. The sharp-dressed man seemed to notice the hesitancy.
"'Waste not, want not'," he explained, still smiling. "Another one of my favorite expressions."
Then the lights were restored, and the door shut automatically. Kaji let out a long breath, and made his way to the exit. He was sure to take a meandering route out of the facility, straining his senses to see if he was being followed, and then he continued to walk around the city. No one followed him. No one stopped him at the train station as he made his way to Calais.
It was only some hours later, when he was on the Over the Rainbow as it accompanied Unit-02 on its long journey to the East, that he reached into the crotch of his pants and pulled out the real sample.
It didn't make sense. The enemy agent had him dead to rights. He could've easily had him captured, or killed him himself. Hell, he seemed to have realized the sample he'd given him was a fake. For all intents and purposes, he had let him get away, let him steal one of the single most valuable things on the planet.
Why?
He didn't seem like the kind of man who'd work for Ikari. Ostensibly he had to be working for SEELE, yet something told Kaji that ultimately, that man worked only for his own goals.
Perhaps he had seen a kindred spirit, and thus spared him.
Something told him he'd get his answers soon enough. Whether he'd find them through Ikari, or SEELE, or even through the enigmatic silver giant that had NERV in a panic, he did not know.
In the dim lighting of his cramped cabin, he looked at the bakelite brick again, his eyes falling on the label.
SAMPLE A-01
ADAM
At least now, he had his way in.
†
He didn't know what was worse- the awareness of being inside of the Eva, ensconced in tons upon tons of inert flesh and metal that was supposed to respond to his mind but never did; the dark entry plug that seemed less like a cockpit and more of a blood-drowned tomb; or that after so many tests he was starting to get used to all of it.
A holoscreen blinked to life in front of him, showing Dr. Akagi's tired face. "We're about to try again."
Shinji nodded, and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he felt the pressure against his very being as the Eva's primal unconscious tried to sync with him. And even more quickly than before, it receded, darting back into sleeping giant like it had touched a live wire.
Dr. Akagi didn't even bother with a holoscreen this time as she radioed in. "Well, it seems that particular configuration was a bust too. Alright, Shinji, you're done with testing for today."
"Understood," he replied, quietly.
The plug lurched as it pulled out of the Eva, and he leaned back against the headrest with a sigh. The LCL drained, and he leaned forward and unceremoniously coughed the offensive liquid out of his lungs. He didn't even wait for the hatch to open before he began climbing out of the seat, and he hopped down onto the gangplank of the Eva cage.
I ᴡᴀs ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, Hayata said.
Shinji tilted his head from one side, then the other, shaking the LCL out of his ears. Guess there's only so much you can do.
"That plugsuit looks ridiculous."
He looked to the source of the voice, and saw Asuka standing by the gangplank, arms folded. She was still wearing her own plugsuit, as vibrant red as her hair, and seemed to lack any of the embarrassment he had over wearing it. Of course, he had modesty enough for both of them- he felt the need to keep his eyes on her face, and only her face.
"I didn't pick it," he said, shrugging helplessly.
She walked towards him, stopping only when their faces were only a few inches apart. She seemed to pick up on his discomfort, and so made sure to space her legs apart and put her hands on her hips as she leaned forward.
"Well, it's not like you have to deal with it for much longer," she said. "Two hours of testing and still nothing? My sync test was ten minutes, tops, and I finished my VR training while you were over here failing to connect."
"They'll fix it," he said, unsteadily.
"Yeah, sure they will," she said, snorting. "You don't even believe that."
"I-" he began, then fell silent. She was right.
"I don't know why it bothers you so much, anyway," she continued. "You don't even want to be here."
Shinji frowned. "Why do you care?"
She returned the frown. "What are you talking about?"
"If I'm just some nobody, then why does the world's most important person keep on reminding me about it? Don't you have something better to do?"
Asuka glared. "Listen-"
"There you two are," Misato called suddenly, and Shinji looked over to see her walking over.
She clamped a hand on his shoulder and Asuka's, and gave a sly grin. "I hope I wasn't interrupting something... special."
"Nope," Asuka ducked out of Misato's embrace. "I was just heading to the shower."
"Uh huh." Misato reached into her jacket pocket and held out a card. "Well, since I have both of you here, I need you two to give Ayanami her new ID. She hasn't been in for testing, so she hasn't picked it up."
Asuka crinkled her nose. "What, some techie can't deliver it?"
"I mean they could," Misato said, "but I think it's important for you three to know each other, and this is a nice excuse."
She handed the card to Shinji, and he took it with a sigh. Misato turned to walk away, then glanced back at Asuka.
"Oh, and no trying to make Shinji go alone. I'll know."
With that, she finally left. Asuka glared after her, then back to Shinji, before finally scowling and leaving as well. He watched her go, then looked back down at the card. Even in a photo Ayanami's eyes seemed to be trying to stare into his soul. Which wasn't inaccurate.
I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ.
Shinji sighed, and made for the showers.
†
"This can't be the right address," Asuka said.
Shinji looked up at the condemned building. Well, at least it looked condemned, and was surrounded by condemned buildings. He didn't know a city like Tokyo-3 could even have an old part of town, and yet it did. There were none of the segmented streets or impressive hydraulics meant for bringing buildings below ground that denoted the rest of the city as a citadel.
"It's where Misato said it'd be," he finally replied.
Asuka threw up her hands. "Whatever. If this the wrong place we can tell Misato we tried."
She marched into the entrance, and Shinji hurried after her. The interior of the building was no better than the outside- in fact, it looked even more decrepit, like it a case study for tetanus infection vectors. The elevator was broken (and even if it wasn't, he wouldn't have trusted it) and so they took to the stairs.
Climbing four flights of stairs in a condemned building so I can give a psychic girl who may or may not be human her ID card, all because everyone is still insisting I'm an Eva pilot.
Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ᴀs ᴏɴᴇ.
Why would I? Shinji stepped over an empty glass bottle as he continued up. I can't sync with it.
Dᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ?
He paused, ostensibly to let Asuka catch up. No. At least... I don't think so.
Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇ ʀᴇʟᴇᴀsᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.
I... I don't know. I don't think I want to go back. Misato is nicer than my teacher, even if she drinks too much. Toji and Kensuke seem cool. And my-
Yᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, Hayata finished.
He needed me for this.
Hayata said nothing of that, yet Shinji was sure he felt his guest's irritation. He continued climbing up the stairs, pausing occasionally to let Asuka catch up.
Sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡᴇ sᴏᴏɴ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴅɪsʀᴜᴘᴛs ʏᴏᴜʀ sʏɴᴄ, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴘɪʟᴏᴛ?
Shinji frowned at the sudden question. His hand moved up to his temple, rubbing it gently.
I-
"Finally!" Asuka grumbled, brushing past him. "Here's Wonder Girl's apartment."
Shinji blinked, then realized that yes, they were finally on the fourth floor. Slowly, he stepped to Asuka's side, and saw a door slightly ajar, with '402' embossed on it in faded brass. He frowned, and looked to her.
"Is she even here?"
"You'll find out," Asuka said, slapping his back. "Get in there, washout."
"What do you mean? You're coming with me, right?"
"I hiked up four flights of stairs in Berlin Wall: The Building. I think that's enough 'team-building' for me."
Shinji frowned. "What, is the great Eva pilot too scared to go into the apartment?"
"Nope," she replied, a little forcefully. "But I'm betting you don't wanna go in alone so I don't think you're a pervert."
"What?"
"Just you and Ayanami in a room together, sounds like a pervert's wet dream," Asuka replied, as if it made any sense. "Ergo, you'd be self-conscious about it, so you'd want me in there with you so you don't seem like a pervert. Which is why you're gonna prove you're not a pervert by going in there alone."
Shinji thought about pointing out all of the flaws in that logic, but instead bit his tongue and sighed. "Fine."
He brushed past her, and after a moment's pause, slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment. For a moment, he had hoped that someone like Ayanami would be neat and orderly, and that hope promptly died as he took in the grimy hallway floor covered in used bandages and empty pill bottles. He didn't even bother slipping off his shoes as he forced himself to continue on.
The apartment only had one main room. Ayanami's bed was in the corner, unmade and with stained sheets, and there was a medical cart nearby. Ayanami herself was nowhere to be seen.
"Ayanami?" he called out, loudly. "Are you home?"
There was no answer, but he realized he could hear movement coming from behind a closed door, likely the washroom. Swallowing, he went to the medical cart and slapped the ID card down.
"It's just me, Ikari," he called out again. "I'm dropping off your new ID. I'll be going now."
He heard the door open, and he turned around, only to make a strangled sound when he saw that Ayanami had emerged from the washroom wearing only a towel around her neck. He quickly averted his eyes, keenly aware of his pulse in his ears.
"Sorry," he blurted out. "I didn't mean to... I'll, um, I better get going."
Eyes still closed, he started towards where he thought the hallway had been. He didn't get three steps before he yelped due to a dainty hand seizing his wrist, surprisingly strong.
"Who are you?" Her voice was still as soft and flat as ever.
"Ayanami?" he said, shakily.
Her other hand grabbed his chin, directing him to the side, and he realized she was strong. Not as strong as he felt himself to be, but enough that he knew no human should be close.
"Look at me," she said, then added after a moment, "please."
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked at Ayanami, trying very hard to keep anything that wasn't her face out of sight. She looked right back at him, studying him with her blood-red eyes.
Both of them.
"Your eyepatch-" he began.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
"I-I'm Shinji," he replied, resisting the urge to avert his eyes from her gaze. "Shinji Ikari."
"I do not believe you," she said. "Because you do not believe yourself."
"What are you talking about?" He tried to pull away, but she held him firm. "Who are you then?"
"I am no one," she replied, and his heart practically stopped in his chest.
"Everyone's someone," he managed to say. "Now please let go, Ayanami."
She did not relinquish her grip, instead staring right at him, right through him. Shinji became aware of something eerily similar to the pressure he felt against himself when in the Eva, and his breath quickened as he realized her eyes were no longer red, but a burning orange-
twin suns on the water
"The fuck are you doing?!"
Ayanami broke the gaze, letting go of his wrist, and Shinji could breathe again.
Turning his head, he saw Asuka stomping over, her face almost as red as her hair. At first he thought her anger was directed at him, and he closed his eyes, expecting her to start berating him.
"He told you to let go, Wonder Girl."
He opened his eyes, and was surprised to see that she'd placed herself between him and Ayanami, blocking her from sight. Her fists were clenched tightly, her knuckles white.
"He's not a fucking doll like you, Ayanami," she snarled. "You can't go grabbing people like they are."
A moment's pause, then Ayanami said, "I apologize. I... have been unwell."
"Yeah, unwell." Asuka looked back at Shinji. "Let's get out of here, washout."
He was quick to agree, hurrying for the exit. Asuka followed after him, like some crimson seal of protection against the girl that was not a girl in the dingy room. He opened the door for her, then quickly shut it behind him. The two of them made their way down the stairs in silence, moving quickly, as if both possessed by the animal urge to escape danger.
The warm evening air greeted Shinji as he stepped outside, and he stopped, sucking in a deep breath. Asuka joined his side, a little winded. She looked back at the building, then elbowed him softly.
"Well," she said after a few moments. "So much for team-building, huh?"
Shinji replied by doubling over and retching. Legs that had kicked down an Angel felt like they were about to give at any moment, and so he stayed bent over, afraid of standing too suddenly.
A bunch of tissues suddenly appeared in his sight, and he blinked.
"Here," Asuka said tiredly, shaking the tissues for emphasis.
He took them and wiped his mouth clean, and finally felt confident in standing straight. Wiping at his eyes with his clean hand, he looked at her.
"Thank you," he said weakly.
She grimaced. "Don't mention it, washout."
They started walking again, keeping to the sidewalk as they made their way back to Misato's apartment. He refrained from looking back at the decrepit building shrinking in the distance behind him, for he was afraid if he did, he'd see her eyes looking back. Instead he glanced over at Asuka. She didn't seem half as shaken as he was, her head held high and proud. He thought of saying something, of asking why she had been so quick to defend him, or bringing up the lack of injury on the supposedly crippled Ayanami.
But he found the silence between them was now oddly comforting instead of tense, and he didn't want to break it.
†
I ᴀᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴀʙsᴇɴᴄᴇ, Sʜɪɴᴊɪ, Hayata said, some hours later. I ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇғᴜʟ.
"It's alright," he mumbled, staring at the ceiling of his room.
The sun had set, and everyone else was asleep, but he was not tired. That didn't meant he wanted to do anything other than listen to music.
Iᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ. I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ. I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ.
"If you did that I'd probably be on the run from the dissection team right now." He rolled over onto his side, looking at nothing. "At least you're here now."
Yᴇs. His voice was subdued. Aᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ I ᴀᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɴᴏᴡ.
And I might not be here for much longer, Shinji knew was the unspoken caveat.
He closed his eyes, trying to immerse himself in the music. His mind went back to Hayata's question, before everything with Ayanami had gone down. If the bond could be broken, would he pilot the Eva instead?
He didn't know the answer to that yet. Nevertheless, he had a feeling he'd get it sooner than he expected, and longer than he'd like.
†
You have been reading:
シン・Leviathan, Chapter Six: A Sound of Thunder
†
And now, an April Fool's Omake
THE REVENGE OF DINOSAUR TANK (THE A-TANKENING)
He had emerged from beneath the oceanic plate near Brazil, the exact antipode to Tokyo-3. From there he had inexorably rolled eastwards, a twenty-thousand kilometer march towards the citadel city.
They knew they were doomed when Godzilla swam to meet him off the coast of Sumatra. Two hours later the island was gone, and the dethroned King of the Monsters with it.
The entire N2 arsenal was unloaded unto the abomination as he crossed the Malaysian peninsula, a gigaton-level barrage that unmade the land, yet he simply rolled across the glowing glass that had been an entire nation, his hide unscathed.
Then an unlikely group of defenders came to their aid. The Angels, all of them from viral Iruel to the "I Can't Believe It's Not Zetton" titan of power that was Zeruel, met him at the coast of Atami, to preserve that which they wished to end on their own terms. Geometric screaming, toilet paper arms, metaphors for the human condition; all were unleashed upon the attacker.
They were all crushed beneath his treads, like democratic protesters.
Gendo watched through the vidscreen as the apocalypse crested the mountains. Unit-00 and Unit-00 awaited him, armed to the teeth, and with a flash of red light the mighty Ultraman rose, arms crossed as he prepared to fire a spacium (specium?) SADAO IIZUKA ray.
"It won't be enough," said Fuyutsuki enigmatically.
"He is the apotheosis of the symbiosis between Man's gods of antiquity, and his new ones," replied Gendo, mysteriously. "He is the ultimate blend of nature and science."
"Indeed," Fuyutsuki said mystifyingly, for the sole purpose of creating a flow to my preferred style of written dialogue.
"He," said Gendo perplexingly, "is a Dinosaur and a Tank. How can one hope to top such awesomeness?"
The commander promptly screamed in pain as he unstuck his hands from his face, and took off his glasses. Reaching into his coat pocket, he produced another set of orange glasses, but like even cooler, and hopefully enough of a descriptor for some people to realize where I'm going.
"There may be one way."
CRUCIFIX SYMBOL PARAGRAPH BREAK
( M)
Shinji fell to one knee, Color Timer blinking as though it was trying to give new meaning to the 'grand' in 'grand mal seizure'. All of his bullshit techniques, rendered useless against the might of Dinosaur Tank.
He had laser eyes. What hope did anyone have of topping that?
Shinji glanced down at the fallen form of Unit-01, and put his hand on its scorched shoulder, shaking it gently. Well, gently by giant standards- the people in the shelters right below thought that death had finally come for them.
"Hey, Unit-01, can you do that thing where you get really mad when I'm in danger, and that really sick music starts playing and you suddenly have teeth and start roaring, and instantly beat the monster?"
No response. It probably couldn't hear him because its ears were on its head, which was missing.
Dinosaur Tank rolled closer, and Shinji quietly accepted that he would be crushed underneath like so many others, which apparently happened so much there was a literal slur about it.
Before Dinosaur Tank could flatten him like a pancake, however, there was a flash of light, and a new towering titan stood in its path. This one was clearly another like him, with a red body with white highlights, silver armor on his shoulders, and a metal crest like a Roman Centurion.
Iᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ, Hayata said, awe in his voice. Hᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴏʟᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxɪsᴛs ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ. Sᴇᴠᴇɴ!
"Seven!" gasped Shinji.
"Seven?" asked Misato.
"They already did this gag in Ultraman Orb," muttered Kensuke.
Ultraseven detached the Eye Slugger from his head-
"oh my god that's so fucking cool"
-and took aim.
"Tanks, but no tanks."
Then he did one of those really sick throws where it instantly returned to his hand, Dinosaur Tank stopped like nothing had happened, then a moment later his head fell off.
Ultraseven triumphantly turned around, and looked down at Shinji.
"Get on my level, scrub."
"No," said another voice. "Get on my level."
Ultraman and Ultraseven looked to the side, as an skyscraper-sized older man with a fishing hat walked over. He took a puff from a cigarette the size of a telephone pole, and exhaled slowly.
"Tohl Narita," Ultraseven breathed in awe.
"Designer of Ultraman and Ultraseven!" exclaimed Shinji.
"And the kaiju for both series," Tohl Narita said. He pointed at the remains of Dinosaur Tank with his cigarette, a grimace on his face. "Including this one."
He took another puff and looked to you, dear readers. "Did you know that this design was forced upon me by the production staff? So terrible was it, that when faced with the prospect of having to design more garbage for a show that didn't appreciate my god-tier artwork, I quit."
Tʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, Hayata said sadly.
"You can count on one hand the number of genuinely great kaiju designs the franchise came up with after you left," Ultraseven said.
"Well, thanks to you, I can finally rest knowing that my worst creation is dead." Tohl Narita nodded respectfully to his greatest artworks.
He turned to leave, then paused. "Just one last thing."
Walking over to Shinji, he suddenly grabbed the Color Timer and ripped it from his chest. Hefting it in his hand, he promptly threw it over the horizon, where its chime could no longer be heard.
"Much better."
With that, he finally left, disappearing into the sunset like Akio Jissoji would've wanted.
Shinji slowly rose to his feet, and looped his arm over Ultraseven's shoulders. Unit-01 did the same to him, the human cast on its horn, and then Unit-00 joined in. They were followed by Godzilla, who of course was going to survive this whole thing.
"April Fools, motherfuckers," Shinji said, and then he and everyone else began to belt out 'Hark, the Herald Angels Sing'.