Last Child of Krypton: Redux

by Chuckman

You will believe Shinji can fly.

6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: No ownership over any concepts or plots expressed in this work of fiction is stated or implied. The author intends no financial gain from the distribution of this material and makes no claim of copyright or trademark.

S

---

Rei felt a peculiar feeling, perhaps something in between anticipation and apprehension. She was leaving the Nerv infirmary; the nurses spoke of her going home, although she would not use that term. The apartment she occupied was not her home. She dressed herself in her school uniform while the two agents that would drive her back waited outside. The choice of the uniform was not meaningful. If anything, it was random. She had only school uniforms to wear and mixed and matched the different shirts and jumpers, although for her purposes today she did not tie a ribbon around her throat, but left the top two buttons of her shirt open. From identical parts a unique, cohesive whole formed, only to be discarded when it was no longer necessary. In that way, her clothing suited her.

Once she was dressed, she carefully applied the unnecessary medical eyepatch and warpped the superfluous bandages around her head, and meticulously adjusted the false cast she was forced to wear until it was just right. Another week of this farce, so that everyone could see her 'injuries' and understand why she had disappeared and was not piloting, and she would be free of it. She affected a mild limp as she walked out of the lonely, empty hospital room, still smelling of the stale flowers only just recently removed from the wastebasket.

"You will take me to my apartment," she said without looking at the agents. They didn't look at her.

As she rode in the Nerv car to her apartment block, she stared out the window with her exposed eye, ignoring the mild almost-headache that quickly came with the loss of depth perception. She watched people moving through the world, families out for weekend shopping excursions and time spent together. They were as alien to her as she to them, and her understanding of their activities was a clinical analysis, information now ghosted over in her mind, the result of study performed by someone else. It interested her little. She went into the hospital empty-handed, naked as she was born in the tank in the depths of Nerv, and emerged with a heavy binder under her arm. Information. Information about Superman. The weight of it under her free arm was a comfort, the fare that satisfied a sudden, hungry impulse. There was something she was supposed to learn about this creature, even though she had no idea what.

The city was familiar to her, but in a hazy, indistinct way. She had walked these streets, navigated the alleyways and boulevards between her quarters and the school, but at the same time she hadn't. The knowledge was intimate familiar and simultaneously distant, information related to her by a distant relative, despite the vivid detail. It seemed flat, a projection on the window of the car that obscured a deeper, more relevant truth.

The agents stopped at the door to her apartment block. She had the entire structure to herself and she knew they slept in nearby apartments in shifts on cots, but none of them ever approached her or paid much attention to her except to ensure that everyone else did the same. When she was out of sight she stopped limping and walked briskly to her quarters. Again, she felt a hazy un-familiarity, as if floating, walking a path trod by someone else according to their directions. She had never touched the door before, but the texture was familiar to her, the pitted surface and faded, flaking paint known to her fingers. She knew it would swing inwards silently, the knob not only unlocked but broken. It was not necessary.

It was cool in the apartment. The room was shaded by the dirty, once white and now cream colored curtains that obscured the morning sun. Everything was as she, no, as the second one left it. The only change was that someone, probably Akagi as the Commander would not do it himself and would trust someone else, had refilled and arranged the various medications she needed to keep her body from rejecting itself. In the hospital it had all been delivered intravenously. She would have to go back to taking pills. Go back to doing something she had never done before.

It was not yet time. The last dose would last her for hours, perhaps days. She had a pile of papers collected from the school and piled in the task chair sitting in front of her desk, but she brushed them off and let them fall to the floor with a meaty splat. She fished around in her desk until she found a plastic box of push pins and put them on the tabletop. On the bed, she opened the binder, pulled the first page of newspaper clippings free, and seemingly at random, chose a spot to pin it to the bare wall. She continued selecting pages and, letting the aesthetic principle of it guide her, pinned page after page to the wall until the binder was empty. She stared at it, seeing the hint of a pattern yet to reveal itself. He fingers twitched. There was something missing. It was not yet complete.

She walked out of the apartment. The agent at the front step tried to stop her, and haltingly put a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Ayanami, where-"

"I need a computer."

The man stared at her through his sunglasses and she stared back. His gaze broke first.

---

Asuka made Hikari a little nervous, but she couldn't quite say why. It may have been the small crowd of obvious out of place security people that followed them as they walked along downtown, ambling between the shops. Tokyo-3 was a weird place, all sculptured retro-future, everything either sweeping curves or heavy, brutalist regularity, and the cloud of men in suits, despite the heat, made it feel like the setting of dystopian future science fiction. Hikari's older sister Kodama had once remarked that the Nerv men reminded her of some movie called the Matrix; she also said it was a shame they never made sequels. She tried not to look at the agents, and after a while, it became more natural to ignore them. They really did blend into the background.

Asuka was a cypher to her. She was so energetic, but seemed so morose and snippy. For whatever reason, she was kinder to Hikari than almost everyone else, including shop keepers, the agents charged with protecting her, and the public at large. At the same time, she showered Hikari with affection, already having bought her so many cosmetics and bottles of shampoo they could barely carry it all between the two of them.

"Why is it always so hot here?" Asuka mused, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

Even sweaty, she was enviable. She had on a green dress that probably cost more than Hikari's entire wardrobe, and a string of pearls that probably cost a month's salary. She believed without hesitation that Asuka really did pilot the giant robot, especially after some of the students had seen her picked up by the Katsuragi woman, Shinji's guardian. It made sense; Katsuragi was a big deal at Nerv according to Kensuke.

Hikari shrugged. "It's always summer, because of Second Impact. It isn't like this back home?"

"In Berlin," said Asuka, "It's always springtime. Never too hot, only too cold at night. Perfect. It's a shame they make us live here."

"Why?"

Asuka shrugged, rolling her bare shoulders. Hikari was always surprised by how muscular she was. It only seemed to stand out when she flexed.

"In Berlin, everything is history. There are buildings that are hundreds of years old."

"Japan is like that, too," Hikari said.

"I know, I know. But they built this place, just made it up. There's nothing here."

"It was all destroyed in Second Impact," said Hikari.

"Yeah," said Asuka. "I'm getting tired of carrying this stuff."

"There's an arcade over there," Hikari gestured up the street with her chin.

"Ha," said Asuka, "It wouldn't be fair. No one can beat me at video games."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

The pair turned and headed toward the arcade, and Hikari was immediately relieved to be out of the sun. It made the freckles come out on her cheeks, and the heat without shade was too intense even in the morning. Asuka fared surprisingly well in the freckle department, with only a few showing up under her eyes and along the back of her shoulders. Once they were under the canopy, the relief from the heat was instantaneous. The arcade had huge fans blowing air under its roof, and it was almost dark inside, with only light from the machines and whatever trickled in from the sides. Asuka picked a machine, seemingly at random. It was some kind of fighting game. Asuka fished around in her purse and pulled out a handful of coins, and motioned for Hikari to join her.

It was a disaster. She picked a fighter at random, because it was a girl. Asuka picked some kind of yellow ninja, and beat the tar out of her. The machine chided her with a "perfect victory" screen. The next round went much the same, and Hikari turned away from it.

"Let's find that dancing game, or-"

"No," said Asuka. "Come on, one more time. I'll go easier on you."

Hikari sighed. "Okay."

Asuka did go easier on her this time, fairly obviously letting her get in enough hits that she almost won before squashing her. She made no real move to teach her anything or evens said much during the matches. She was so intent on it that she nearly jumped when Toji called out to them from across the arcade.

"Horaki!"

He wasn't alone. He had Kensuke with him, of course, and Shinji Ikari, walking along behind them. He saw Asuka before the others did, and a curious look swept over his face, somewhere between anxiety and anticipation. She saw him tense a little bit, but also stand straighter. He could be quite tall if he tried, almost as tall as Toji. Hikari ignored him, though, smiling at Toji in spite of herself.

"Ugh," Asuka muttered, "here come the three stooges."

"The what?"

Asuka raised an eyebrow at her. "Three stooges?"

Hikari shrugged.

"Never mind," Asuka huffed.

"Whatcha doin'?" said Toji.

"We're playing a game. That's what you do in an arcade," Asuka muttered, rolling her eyes.

Toji snorted. "No, really."

Hikari sighed. Kensuke checked his watch, then slunk away, fingering the strap of the camera he wore around his neck. Shinji stepped alongside him, but didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the ground nervously, only to let his eyes slide up Asuka's legs before his gaze snapped back down. Hikari smiled.

"I'm not very good," said Hikari. "Why don't you try, Shinji?"

"What, me?"

"Nah," Toji shouldered him aside. "She needs a real challenge. We'll see how tough you are, Soryu."

Asuka's expression remained neutral. She put the coins in the machine, picked her character, and waited. Toji hunched over the controls, a look of intense concentration squeezing his fingers. Asuka remained neutral, leaning back slightly, her expression flat. The match started, and Toji's blue ninja immediately charged her, shouting and grunting as he started a special move. Asuka was even more brutal than she'd been before, avoiding his attack entirely only to land behind him and beat him mercilessly, pinning him in the corner of the screen. Barely thirty seconds had ticked off the timer before she had him beaten. The next round was mostly the same, except he managed to deny her a flawless victory screen by chipping a tiny sliver off her health bar.

"So," said Toji. "I guess you are pretty good, after all."

A thin smile slowly twisted Asuka's lips.

"Get her, Shinji."

Shinji fidgeted for a moment, then stepped up to the machine. He rested his hands on the controls, and waited while Asuka fed more change into the machine. Like Hikari, he chose a fighter seemingly at random, and the match started. Asuka pushed forward with all the intensity she'd shown before, and Shinji was quickly, roundly defeated. The timer started counting down to the next round, and something changed. Hikari saw him start peeking from the corner of his eye, glancing at Asuka's hands. He seemed to be watching her fingers as much as he was watching the screen, and when the match started he anticipated every movement she made, leaping over her as she unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks that made up her usual starting combo. His character dropped down behind her and started attacking. He hit the block button every time she managed to land a hit on him, and the rest of the time, her fighter was stunned or hitting empty air. The match went on longer than any yet, and at the end, Asuka had lost and Shinji still had half of his health bar left.

Asuka stared at the screen in stunned surprise. When the next match started, she leaned into it, jaw set, eyes fixed on the screen. Shinji's performance only improved. He jumped and ran around the screen, avoiding her attempts to pin him down, until an opportunity opened up, and then he took it. He started to whittle her health down bit by bit, just using the buttons and not any of the special moves- he obviously didn't know any of them. The more complicated Asuka's attack, the simpler his defense became. This time, when he landed the final blow, he had three quarters of his health bar left.

Asuka's hands fell to her sides. She turned her head slowly towards him.

"How did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Luck, I guess."

"No way," Asuka snapped. "No one is that fast. How did you-"

The rest of her demand was drowned out by a heavy rumbling sound. For a bare second, Hikari's heart nearly skipped. She thought it was the evacuation alarm, but it turned out to be an ordinary fire engine, rumbling along the street behind the arcade, siren blaring. As it passed, Shinji's eyes followed it. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, flipping up the lid with his finger.

"Whoops. Misato's calling me, she must need something for work."

Asuka blinked. "What?"

"Got to run, sorry."

With that, he turned and, with surprising speed, sprinted out of the arcade, leaving Hikari, Asuka, and Toji staring in his wake, dumbstruck.

"Huh," said Toji. "I got to get going ,too. I need to pick up my sister from the babysitter. It was nice seeing you, Horaki."

"Call me Hikari."

"Okay," he smiled, and then turned to leave. Kensuke was still missing.

"I should get going too," Hikari sighed. "I have to cook dinner for my family."

"Can I come?" Asuka said, quickly.

Hikari blinked. "I don't think that would be a good idea. They don't know you."

Asuka's shoulders slumped, ever so slightly, and she actually pouted. She brightened quickly, gesturing at one of the Nerv people.

"You," she growled, "get over here."

The agent tried his best to look as if he hadn't just taken an order from a teenage girl. Asuka pointed at the bags on the ground.

"Walk miss Horaki home. Carry her things."

"Umm…"

"Now," Asuka snapped.

---

Asuka blithely strolled into the apartment, one bag of shampoo in her hand. Misato apparently considered it necessary to open the bottle of shampoo and dump half of it on her head when she washed her hair. In the week since she'd arrived in Tokyo-3, Misato had exhausted the entire supply of both shampoo and conditioner that Asuka had brought with her from Germany. That absolutely could not stand. Asuka put the new bag of bottles in her bedroom, carefully hidden beside her dresser. She looked down at the ridiculous bedroll she'd been sleeping on, glad that her new bed would be arriving in a few days. She was surprised to find Misato sitting in the kitchen in her damned underwear, as bold as you please, covered up only by a paper-thin yellow t-shirt.

"Will you put on some pants," Asuka muttered, working her way the refrigerator. "It's indecent."

Misato snorted. "Since when did you become a prude, miss hotpants?"

Asuka slammed the door after pulling out a soda. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm surprised that you haven't given Shinji a heart attack."

"Bah," Asuka dismissed the boy with a wave of her hand. "All he can manage is staring at my feet. He's so housebroken it's pathetic."

"Oh," Misato said slyly, looking up from whatever she was working on at the table. "So you want him to be bold, then. Seize you around the waist and-"

"No!" Asuka snapped. "You are such a pervert, you know that?"

Misato looked at her blankly, her lips twitching as if she suppressed a smile, and then looked back down at the form she was filling out.

"What's that?" said Asuka.

"Work."

"So where is he, anyway?"

Misato arched an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Shinji. I ran into him at the arcade. He's probably stalking me."

"Uh-huh," said Misato. "The housebroken coward is stalking you."

Asuka took a sip of her soda. "Will you get your mind out of the gutter for a minute? I saw him and he pulled out his phone and said you called him in to work."

Misato blinked. "I've been here all day. I didn't call him."

Asuka turned the can in her hand. It tasted good, fruity, but she couldn't read the thing, though she pretended otherwise. Why did the Japanese insist on making their language incomprehensible? Speaking it was easy enough, but reading an endless collection of little houses and squiggles was damned near impossible.

"So where is he, then?"

Misato shrugged.

Asuka considered that for a moment, drowned her soda, and tossed the can into the recycling bin. She glanced at the microwave. It was not yet two o'clock, so he had to be out somewhere. She tapped her foot on the floor for a moment, tracing her finger under her chin.

"I'm going out."

"Okay," said Misato, "don't try to shake the small army of security goons."

"You don't sound very worried."

"I'm not," said Misato. "You'll be fine. I have an army trailing you, Asuka. You're not getting into any more trouble, believe me."

"I didn't get into anything," Asuka snapped. "Someone came after me."

"It won't happen again," Misato looked up. "I promise. Look, I'll change and go with you, if you want."

"No," said Asuka. "The army of suits following me will do just fine. You just sit there on your big butt and do whatever."

Misato laughed at her as she stalked out of the kitchen, shouldering her purse. She slipped into her shoes and darted down the stairs, only to be greeted by a pair of agents that shadowed her as she left the building. There'd probably be a damned helicopter after too long. She was used to it, by now. She'd always had a handful of minders in Berlin, a few more wasn't such a burden, and for the most part, they were well practiced at remaining invisible. She almost forgot they were there as she walked aimlessly towards the shopping district again, thoroughly bored.

Without quite knowing why, she gravitated back to the arcade. Challenging random teenagers to video games didn't strike her fancy, especially with big black-suited goons looming over her. Nevertheless, she wandered to it and through it, looking through the world around her with a sort of thousand yard stare. There was one thing she wasn't doing at all, which was looking for Shinji.

As she walked, her ears naturally picked out a key phrase- Evangelion Pilot. She listened, stopping in her tracks, and glanced around at her minders. They'd fanned out through the arcade. She ducked around behind a machine and then another, weaving between them, widening the gap as she listened.

"…Evangelion Pilot!" the voice called out again, and she drew nearer, pressing against a concrete wall.

Around the corner, just outside the arcade in a back alley, she saw the Aida boy, the short one with the glasses, standing on a small crate, next to his tall companion, Suzahara or whatever his name was. Again and again, he cried out.

"Sexy pictures of the Evangelion Pilot!"

The blood drained from Asuka's face. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw her security detail catching up to her. She was about to rush the two boys and the small crowd of teenagers, and, she noticed, a few grown men, when something quite unexpected happened. Shinji did the charging for her, barreling into the crowd, his head up, his shoulders back, standing proud and unstooped as he had that first morning when she saw him sneak back into the house in the wee hours before dawn. He easily pushed through the crowd, stepped up to the crate, and snatched the handful of printed pictures out of the Aida boy's hand.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Selling pictures!" said Aida.

Shinji balked, flipping through the pictures. "You… you took these without her permission."

"Duh," said Kensuke. "Look, those Nerv goons took my pictures of Superman, and I need some cash-"

Shinji looked at one picture and yelped, actually cried out. "You were pointing the camera up her dress! Where did you get these?"

The crowd was milling around, now. A grown man put a hand on Shinji's shoulder.

"I already paid."

Shinji turned to him, and slowly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Kensuke, give them their money back."

"What?" the boy said quietly. "But Shinji-"

"Dude," said Toji.

"I paid," the man repeated.

Shinji slowly crumpled the pictures in his hands, twisted them into a tight ball, and let his hands fall to his sides. When he stood to his full height, he matched the dumpy salaryman inch for inch, and continued to stare him down.

The older man drew back, balled his hand into a fist, and threw a punch.

Shinji barely flinched. His hand was just there, appearing in front of his face as if it had just materialized there. The incoming fist met his palm with a wet slap, like cracking celery, and the man yelped. Shinji closed his fingers around the man's fist and held it there as he tried, feebly, to pull away.

"Kensuke," Shinji said quietly.

Slowly, the assembled crowd started handing back the pictures as Kensuke fished out the fistful of bills he'd already collected and returned them. Kensuke edged around Shinji to give back the money to the man who'd thrown the punch, and Shinji released him. He clasped his hands together, rubbing his knuckles, and retreated quietly. Kensuke and the Suzahara boy stood silently.

Shinji slowly turned around. "I thought we were friends."

"Dude," said Toji, "I don't see-"

"I recognize some of those pictures," Shinji said, flatly. "You used me to distract her."

"Look," said Kensuke. "She's in public-"

"That's not the point," Shinji cut him off. "She risks her life piloting that thing. Risks her life for you people. It's wrong to try to exploit her like that."

"What do you mean…" Kensuke trailed off.

"She's not the first pilot. Remember Rei Ayanami?"

"The weird girl?" said Toji.

"She was the pilot during the first attack. It almost killed her. That's why she hasn't been in school."

"Dude," said Kensuke. "You, like, know stuff? I thought you said you got coffee and things, and-"

"Why should I tell you anything else? Will you sell that, too?"

"Who cares about some dumb robot," Toji retorted, crossing his arms. "Superman-"

Shinji stepped right up into Toji's face. "Let me ask you something. What do you think Superman would think if he were here right now? If he knew what you did?"

Toji blinked. "I, uh. He's a hero, and um, he… ah… probably… wouldn't be… okay… with it?"

"Well…" said Kensuke.

"Exactly," Shinji crossed his arms. "I know you have backups of those pictures. Let's have them."

Asuka snorted, then her breath caught. She wondered if she'd been heard, but the three boys ignored her. Of course, here it came. The pervert wanted all the pictures to himself. He'd probably have a good look at them later. As she watched, the Aida boy reluctantly pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and handed it over, all the while staring at the ground. Shinji took it, and palmed it.

"Dude," said Toji. "Don't tell her about this…"

"I won't."

Asuka blinked. He won't?

"You won't?" said Kensuke.

"I won't, if you won't. There's no harm done. I don't want her worrying about people pulling stunts like this. She has enough on her mind saving all our lives."

"You know," Toji said quietly, "You're right. We shouldn't have done this."

Kensuke sighed. "If those jerks hadn't violated my civil rights.."

"Listen, man," Toji cut him off. "Are we cool?"

Shinji nodded. "As long as nothing like this happens again."

The two boys shrugged, nodded, and walked past him. When they were gone, he slumped against the brick wall of the alleyway, and let out a long, slow breath. He reached into his pocket, fished around, and brought out the thumb drive. He looked at it for a second, gently bobbed his hand as if to weigh it, and then closed his fingers around it. Then, he dropped the drive and the ball of crumpled pictures into a wastebasket and strolled off, hands thrust into his pockets.

Asuka waited quietly until he was gone, then nearly tip-toed into the alley until she reached the garbage can. When she peered inside, she saw the crumpled ball of pictures, and the thumb drive, smashed into a dozen pieces, the metal end where it plugged into the computer bend into a u-shape, as if around a finger. She blinked.

"Wow," the agent behind her said. "Isn't that Katsuragi's assistant?"

Asuka nearly jumped out of her skin. She rounded on the man, and realized the pair were smirking at her.

"What about it?"

"Oh, nothing," the other agent snickered.

"Keep your airheaded opinions to yourself," Asuka snapped, marching past them. "You're a security detail, not a Greek chorus."

---

When Shinji walked into the apartment, Misato was kicking her feet, making tiny squeaking sounds as the balls of her feet hit the floor. A quick glance through the flesh of her ankle told him it was mostly fully healed, which made him feel a bit better. She caught his glance and looked up, brushing her hair out of her face and over her ear to get a better look at him. She eyed him for a moment, chewing her lip.

"Are you checking me out?"

He froze, the blood draining from his face. "I, umm, I was just wondering if your leg was better."

She kept her expression neutral. "So that involves staring at my legs, then."

He swallowed. "I, uh, well, your leg was hurt, and-"

She snorted, and quivered with suppressed laughter. "You are too easy, you know that?"

He sighed. "I wish you'd stop doing that."

"I'm trying to help you."

"Right," he muttered, passing into the kitchen.

He didn't really feel hungry, but then he never did, but he did feel like eating and it would be time for dinner soon. He started fussing about in the drawers under the countertop, assembling the pots and pans he'd need for a meal. He didn't need to bother with a cookbook, as he had them all memorized, at least all the ones he'd ever read. He occupied himself by thinking of the pages, recalling their texture and the color of the paper as he visualized the text.

"What happened to your face?"

He jumped in actual surprise, and had to remember to make sure he hit the ground again. Misato was looking at his chin. He touched the spot where her gaze fell with his fingertips, and rubbed away a bit of soot that had accumulated there, from the fire. A mild moment of panic set in. Misato leaned forward to ask him something else when Asuka stormed into the apartment, kicking her shoes into the others with a pair of loud thumps. She froze when she saw Shinji in the kitchen, a curious look on her face. She wasn't looking at him with contempt anymore. In fact, it was hard to say how she was looking at him.

"Where'd you go, anyway?" said Misato, as she leaned forward to return to her work.

"Out," Asuka said sharply, stalking into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"I'm not sure yet," said Shinji. "I'll be right back."

He cut past Misato and into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. Once inside, he splashed some water on his face and toweled away the black streak, then double checked that there was no more, and ran his fingers through his hair to be sure. He couldn't be so careless. He opened the top two buttons of his collar and checked that there was no more around his neck, then carefully adjusted himself.

"What's with you?" he heard Misato say in the kitchen.

"Nothing," Asuka replied.

"Oh," said Misato. "I was just wondering, I mean you seem a little snappy, and you're staring at Shinji's butt."

"I am not sta- what?"

"You better be quiet," said Misato. "He might hear us. Of course, they can probably hear you in Africa."

Shinji smirked. He'd never really tried, but he probably could hear her from Africa. If he'd been there.

"Why are you two always so perverted?"

Shinji winced. He wasn't even in the room. That was entirely unfair.

He swore he could hear Asuka's teeth grinding.

"Oh come on, Shinji's about as perverted as… something that's not very perverted much at all."

Asuka sniffed. "Once again, I'm stung by your razor wit," she raised her voice, "Washout, get out here and cook me some dinner. What are you doing in there, anyway?"

"You should stop calling him that," Misato said quietly.

"Why? It's what he is."

"Somebody's in a defensive mood lately."

He chose that moment to reemerge. Asuka had opened her box of chocolates, and was presently chewing on a piece of candy, her eyes rolled back in her head ecstatically.

"You should share that," Misato said as she folded her arms.

"No way," Asuka said, almost playfully. "I'm the pilot, I get the rewards. Where did you get these, anyway?"

"I didn't," Misato pointed at Shinji with her chin. "He did."

Asuka turned around slowly, eyes narrowing. "How did you know I like this stuff?"

"Misato told me," he shrugged.

"He was worried about you."

Asuka turned around quickly. "Worried? Why."

He could see her tense. "Oh." She turned back to him. "You don't need to worry about me, washout."

"You could try being nice, once in a while." said Misato.

Asuka rolled her eyes. "How did you get these, anyway?"

"I made a few phone calls."

Asuka bit another piece in half, chewed it for a moment, and then swallowed it. Shinji started his water to boil, and pulled out some pieces of chicken he'd left in the refrigerator to thaw. He could cut it remarkably quickly, given that he didn't have to worry about cutting himself. The worst thing that could happen was the knife dulling on his skin.

"It's from Germany. How did you get it here so fast?"

"Duh," said Misato. "He-"

Shinji cut her off. "There was a local shop that had it. German immigrants."

"Oh," said Asuka. "Wait, you speak German?"

"No, but they speak French," he shrugged.

"Wait, you speak French?"

Shinji picture the books he had stacked up in his room. "French and English. I'm working on German."

"I didn't know you could speak French! I can't speak French."

Shinji looked at her over his shoulder. She was staring at him petulantly. He smirked. "Vous êtes belle, mais vos mots pourraient faire cailler le lait."

She looked at him blankly.

"Showoff," she muttered.

"Oh," Misato said, sliding a small plastic card across the table. "One more thing. Rei is going back to school tomorrow. I want you to meet her at her apartment and walk her to school."

"You mean, the two of us and the Goon Squad."

Misato sighed. "She has her own security detail. It'd be nice if my pilots would talk to one another."

"Oh," said Asuka, "that's right, the First Child. I don't know much about her. The updates just listed her synch ratio. About half of mine."

Misato rolled her eyes. "You would know that."

Asuka shrugged. "I need to know these things, you know."

"Right," said Misato, looking back down at her work.

From there, it was blessedly quiet. Shinji cooked and plated the foot, and the three ate in silence, Misato poring over her work, Asuka fiddling around with her telephone. Misato was the first to leave, arching her back as she stood up. Shinji blushed and stared more intensely at his dish of food.

"Don't be up too late," said Misato. "It's a school night, and you have a synch test after school, Asuka."

"I know," Asuka said sharply.

When Misato padded out of the kitchen, Pen-Pen emerged, climbed up onto her chair, and looked at Shinji expectantly. Sighing, he got up, fished around in the refrigerator for a can of food, and used the actual can opener this time. Pen-Pen cocked his head to the side in confusion as he fumbled with it. He dumped out the canned fish into the bird's dish and put it on the table before him.

"Well," said Asuka, "there goes my appetite. Good thing I'm done."

She stopped at the kitchen door. "Hey, Washout."

Shinji looked up from the sink, where he was wrist-deep in water.

"I know where you went this afternoon."

He froze. She knew. Oh God, she knew, if she told anyone-

"I don't need someone sneaking around trying to protect me. I'm not some delicate flower for you to watch over. I can handle those idiots myself."

He relaxed. She'd seen the thing with Toji and Kensuke somehow. How had he missed her? It shouldn't be possible for her to sneak up on him-

"But," she said, seeming to strain to form the words, "Thank you."

"You're wel-"

"Don't think it means anything," she snapped, then turned and stalked out of the kitchen.

Pen-Pen stared at him, and offered a little birdly shrug, then went back to eating. Shinji turned back to the dishes, sighing as he worked the cloth over them. Once everyone was out of sight, he could heat the water with his vision to make sure they were extra clean. A thin blanket of steam formed over the surface. He jumped a little when he heard Asuka's fist hit the wall.

"Why did I say that?" she whispered.

---

When Asuka awoke, it was a good half hour before her alarm went off, and to the sound of Shinji padding quietly through the apartment. She got to her feet and very quietly crept to the door on all fours, resting on her elblows and shins so she didn't make any noise. She already had the door open by just a sliver. He came in with his bag over his shoulder as usual, and went into his room. She listened to the meaty thump as he put away the things in the bag, and then watched him emerge, shirtless, and head for the shower. Her breath caught, as usual.

This time, she waited patiently for the water to turn on, and stole across the hallway on the balls of her feet, taking long, careful strides to minimize the noise. She slid into his room and looked around. It was really a hall closet, but it suited him, since had so few things, just his bed and a chest of drawers and a battered old cello case and his books. She spotted the tail end of one of his bag's straps between the bed and the chest of drawers, and knelt down next to it, then pulled it free. She quickly unzipped it, and found it empty except for a pair of battered work boots. Some of the eyelets were missing, the cuffs were frayed, and one of the soles had a deep gash in it, exposing the material of the insole. They looked like the must be years old, not even his.

Confused, she put the boots back as she found them, careful to make sure they were positioned exactly the same, and looked around. His drawers contained only clothes, except for the bottom, in which there was a vacuum-sealed plugsuit. They must have let him keep it as a souvenir. It made sense, since no one else could wear it; they were custom made. She pushed it back into the drawer and her breath caught when the plastic made a tiny crinkling sound. She immediately cursed herself for being so irrational, as there was no way he could possibly have heard it, even had the shower not been running.

She took a quick peek in the cello case, and finding only a cello, turned quickly closed it again. As she moved it back into position, she heard a strange thump, and opened it back up. Tucked behind the cello itself, in a small channel with the bow, was a metal canister with a screw top, like a pencil case. She pulled it out and turned it over in her hands. The metal was cool to the touch and had an odd, unfamiliar texture, like nothing she'd ever touched before. She gave the cap a quick try, but it wouldn't budge. Carefully, she wedged it back in place, closed the case, and stood up. She tapped her foot. There was something missing, something she hadn't thought of. Then, she turned around, and almost walked into Shinji.

He was standing in the door wrapped up in a towel, his eyes wide with shock.

"W-what are you…"

"I wanted to borrow one of your books," she said quickly, ducking down to pick up one of his French phrasebooks. "I want to learn French."

"Uh," said Shinji. "If you're going to borrow something, aren't you supposed to ask?"

Asuka's eyes narrowed. "I was going to ask. After I borrowed it."

"But isn't that technically-"

As if on cue, Misato appeared behind him, peering out from under the great frizzy mop of her bed-hair. She looked from Shinji in his towel to Asuka and back again.

"Bow chicka wow wow."

"Oh shut up," Asuka snapped, pushing Shinji aside. "Fine, washout. Next time, I will ask. I wouldn't want to breach your little fortress of solitude without permission."

She hurried past Misato, heading for the bathroom. She scooped up her own towel, bigger and fluffier than the cheap department store crap Misato used, and fairly ran across the short space of the kitchen and slammed the door shut. A moment later, Misato was pounding on the door.

"Hey! You didn't call it!"

"Yes I did!" Asuka snapped back, yelling so her voice would carry through the door. "I'm in here, aren't I?"

"Oh," said Misato.

Angrily, she disrobed and threw her pajamas into the corner of the room, as if to hurt them. Her own shampoo was securely stored in her room, and so she had to make do with Misato's foul smelling garbage. She seriously thought it came from a veterinarian. When she emerged, wrapped in two towels, Misato was angrily tapping her foot on the kitchen floor. The damned penguin was watching it all in his blank way, though for a moment, Asuka could swear he was smirking at them. Shinji rather pointedly ignored her as she crossed the kitchen, clutching the towel around her chest. She watched him as she walked through the door, expecting to see him trying to sneak a peek at her, but he made no movement.

She finished her grooming in her bedroom, making the sure the door was closed tightly before she did. Her bed would arrived today, but she still needed a proper door. She stared at the uniform hanging in her closet for a moment, as if it were a living thing, before she slipped into the shirt and tied the ribbon around her throat. It took her only a few minutes to dress, and she had to stop to admire herself in the mirror. She hated the look, but the uniform was perfect. Shinji pressed all her clothes so immaculately it looked like it was done by some sort of machine. When she stepped outside into the hall, she looked around and realized that everything in the apartment was like that, neatly arranged and organized. When did he have time do that?

He'd prepared her breakfast with his usual speed. Misato was slurping down a can of coffee, drinking it in great gulps and standing in the kitchen swaddled in towels, bold as you please. She gave Shinji a little push on the shoulder when he blushed, and cocked her hips to the side.

"Is there something on the floor?"

"No," Shinji said nervously. "It's just, um."

Misato barked out a laugh at him. "I'm going to get dressed. I'll see you both after school. Synch test, Asuka!"

Asuka glared after her, and took a drink of juice as Shinji sat down to eat. He'd prepared himself a small portion, and, she noticed, it was all vegetable matter, various greens and springs and such things. She frowned at him over her cup and put it on the table.

"What are you, part rabbit now?"

He actually blushed. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Since when?"

"Since today," he said quietly, taking a bite of his food. He seemed more interested in the taste than the quantity, savoring each bite before swallowing it. He drank plain water, and stopped to look in the glass before taking each sip.

"Why?" said Asuka.

"I've decided I don't want to eat meat anymore," said Shinji. "Nothing from an animal."

"And why not?" said Asuka. "You don't mind me eating it."

She took a bite of egg for emphasis.

"I wouldn't want to force my views on anyone," he shrugged. "But would you eat Pen-Pen?"

The penguin looked up at mention of his name, a sardine hanging from his mouth. He slurped it down and Asuka felt a pang of revulsion.

"Wark," said Pen-Pen.

Shinji smirked. "I think that means 'don't answer that' in Pen-Pen."

Asuka's eyes narrowed, and she suppressed a giggle. "Very funny. He's eating meat. You don't mind that."

Shinji shrugged. "He doesn't have a choice. I do."

"Oh," said Asuka, poking a bit of sausage into her mouth. "So do I."

"You should," said Shinji, before finishing the last of his meal. He took a piece of toast and clenched it between his teeth.

Asuka looked down at her own empty plate and handed it to him. He put it in the sink and sprayed some water over them both, and continued nibbling his toast while he did, gradually working it into his mouth without touching it. He finally took one big bite and it vanished, like grass being sucked into a cow's mouth.

"Yes?"

"What?" Asuka said defensively.

"You were kind of staring at me a little."

"I was not," she said sharply. "Are you coming, or not?"

He shrugged. "I guess. Aren't we supposed to pick up Ayanami?"

"Oh," Asuka muttered. "Right. Hold on."

Asuka knocked twice on Misato's door and slid it open. The older woman jumped in surprise and Asuka grinned. The little squeak of shock she let out was extremely satisfying. She hurriedly turned around and continued buttoning her uniform shirt.

"What?"

"Aren't we supposed to go get the First? I don't know where she lives."

"Oh," said Misato. "Tell the security goons to drive you. They know."

Asuka retreated and closed the door, smiling smugly in satisfaction at Misato's muttering. She strode out into the hallway and joined Shinji in slipping on shoes to head out into the world. Once outside, she flagged down the nearest black-suited security agent.

"Yes?"

"Take us to Ayanami's quarters," Asuka demanded, rising to her full height with her hands on her hips.

"Just you," said the Agent.

"What?" Asuka snarled. "I distinctly said us."

The agent looked at her in blank-faced annoyance. "Orders from the Commander. Ayanami is not to have contact with him."

Shinji blinked. "Why?"

"I don't know," said the agent, "and I don't care."

Shinji shrugged. "Okay. I'll see you at school, I guess."

Asuka considered this for a moment. She couldn't overrule the Commander. She'd never actually met the man, but his reputation preceded him. She watched Shinji walk away, shoulders down, without speaking. He shouldered his bag as if it were a heavy burden, and took to the sidewalk. Asuka turned around, and they were already bringing up the black sedan. She slid into the back, tossing her bag on the seat.

"Good mo-"

"Be quiet," Asuka snapped, cutting off the driver's inane banter. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, and kicked the seat in front of her as the car rolled. The tinted windows made it look like it was still nighttime. She watched the buildings slip by as the car turned away from the school, and in fact away from the most populous area of the city. The buildings changed, starting to look less pristine and modern and more like broken jaws. The sound of a pile driver thumped through the morning air, and she heard the scraping sounds of construction equipment, in this case probably doing demolitions. The neighborhood looked like a demilitarized zone.

"Ayanami lives here?" said Asuka.

The agent driving the car didn't reply. Asuka sneered. Let him sulk, petulant child. When the car stopped, she nearly lept out, yanking her bag with her. This place was actually a bit closer to the school than Misato's apartment, and must have been the remnants of the worker tenements occupied while the city was actually being built. The building itself looked unoccupied, and she was almost surprised to find an open apartment complete with three bored looking guards sitting around a table, smoking and playing cards. They glanced up at her, she saw a flash of recognition, and they waved her on.

"Here for Ayanami? 404." One of them said, not looking up.

Asuka blinked and headed for the elevator. Out of order. It figured. It looked bad, very bad, and she wouldn't have tried to use it, sign or no sign. The doors were dented and scuffed, the buttons were hanging loose on wires like old doll's eyes hanging on strings, and the frame around the door had been peeled away, exposing the inner mechanism of the elevator's own inside doors. She walked past it and found the stairwell, and began the business of ascending, cursing herself for agreeing to this. The stairwell was dank, cold, and dark, and she felt like she was being watched.

Apartment 404 had a broken door, and it was ajar. She instantly felt her stomach tighten. Had someone broken in, tried to assassinate Ayanami, as they had her? She pushed the door open and darted inside, only to be greeted by the soft sound of a running shower and thin wisps of steam. Laid out on the bed was her uniform, apparently one of several she had, as the others were hanging on racks in her closet, which had no door. There was no sign of any other clothes, other than her underthings, presumably, in a small night stand.

Asuka marveled. The place wasn't filthy, exactly, but it was grim, utilitarian, and there was no attention paid to making it look habitable. The walls were covered in old stains and the curtains probably weren't meant to be a tobacco brown color, nor so thin. The bedsheets looked like hospital sheets, just laid over the mattress rather than folded. There was enough pills to open a pharmacy, spread everywhere in bottles. What was odd, though, was the no less than three computers set up on a desk, all of the monitors arranged next to each other with the keyboards sort of stacked up, to all be within reach. There was a stack of printed papers and thin, fluttering strips of newsprint fixed to one wall. Some of the text had been underlined, and there were pieces of yarn trailing between some of them, linking them.

Lying on the bed was an odd assortment of items. There was a medical eyepatch and an arm sling, and a strange cast that looked like it was meant to hinge and come apart. It was resting on the bed, folded open. Asuka picked it up, and dropped it when she heard soft, padding footsteps behind her. She spun on her heels and gasped. Ayanami emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a towel. A towel around her neck. She just left the door hanging open and…

Asuka felt a sudden flush, and her heart started to race, pounding in her chest. She nearly fell on the bed. There was something off about this girl. Her skin was as pale as chalk, and in the morning cold she was a roadmap of red arteries and blue veins drawn all over her skin. Asuka found her eyes drifting both up and down, unable to fix on any one detail. Her eyes were bright red, which spoke of an albino, but her hair was blue. For a bare instant she thought it was dyed, but the patches under her arms disproved that assumption. Asuka's throat felt dry, and she tried to speak, but only thin rasps came out.

The other girl approached with a flat stare, totally unconcerned by her nakedness. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I-I…" Asuka started, then forced herself to take a breath, closing her eyes. "I'm Asuka Langely-Soryu, the pilot-"

"Of Unit Two. Why are you here?"

"Unit One, now," said Asuka. "Mis- Captain Katsuragi asked me to walk you to school."

"I see," said Rei.

Brazenly, she walked to the bed and continued toweling off, then tossed the towel onto a seemingly random spot on the floor, no longer concerned with it. Asuka watched the movement of her long, well-turned limbs for a moment before turning around. She felt a pang of jealousy at the way the uniform shirt Rei wore was filled out when she slipped it on and began to button it down. Asuka ran her hand along the hinged cast.

"What is this stuff?"

Slipping into her skirt, Rei began putting on the medical supplies, first the eyepatch, and then some bandaging, winding it in a peculiar way around her head. Now that she was decent, Asuka turned around and continued to appraise her. The girl's perfectly smooth skin seemed to be in spite of her harsh hygiene- she smelled of cheap soap, and nothing else. Her hair looked like she'd cut it herself, roughly hacking it off with scissors, and was frizzy, as if she washed it with bar soap.

"What's with that stuff?" said Asuka, watching the girl clasp the false cast around her arm.

Rei fixed her with her flat gaze. There was no menace it, only bland appraisal. "That information is classified. You will not tell anyone what you saw here this morning."

Asuka planted her fists on her hips and barked out "Or what?" before even thinking. Classified?

Rei stepped closer to her, and Asuka instinctively took a step back. The girl unnerved her, and it was getting worse by the second. The smell of soap and the dank apartment made her feel like she was playing some silly horror video game, like some ridiculous monster was about to come lurking out of the closet… the closet. She had a brief flash, the barest instant of an impression, the sound of an extension cord suspending something heavy and limp in a closet, creaking.

She barely realized she was holding her breath. She let it out, slowly.

"It is classified," Rei repeated. "My medical condition is classified. If you reveal it to anyone, you will be disciplined. Do you understand?"

Asuka rankled, or part of her did, under the girl's tone, but there was a strange edge to it. Anyone else would have tried to put some menace into the inflection. She'd dealt with people before, people who thought they were her betters just because they were older, trying to talk to down to her the way they would a child, and meeting her blunt refusal to accept that. Rei's words were even, a monotone, a simple statement of fact that she would not talk about what she'd seen unless she wanted to be disciplined, whatever that meant.

It couldn't be good.

She felt something very silly at that moment, something she didn't expect. A sort of expectation, a realization that a strangely familiar presence wasn't standing behind her, watching all of this over her shoulder. She was alone in the apartment with Rei, and Shinji was walking to school. It bothered her, though she couldn't say why. She took a step back, bumping the small refrigerator near the bed with her rear end.

"I'll wait for you outside."

Quickly, she fled the apartment, and then without even thinking slid against the wall beside the door, leaning on it for support as her legs softened. She hadn't felt this unnerved by anything in years, not even the angels. Rei was different, different, like something she'd seen before, something familiar and alien and wrong, and Asuka wanted her to go away.

"Let's go," Rei said softly, emerging from the apartment. She didn't bother closing the door, and Asuka said nothing.

As she walked, she felt her proper self return, and put her usual swagger on her gait. The security men shadowed them, and the sudden crushing presence, once an annoyance, actually reassured her. She stole glances at Rei, and each time she let her eyes fix on her, took a good look, she felt that tightness in her throat. She wished they were already at school. Thankfully, the walk was short; they didn't even have to take the train. The school was in sight, and Asuka sped up. Rei didn't, and that was fine. They hadn't said one word to one another once hitting the street, and that was fine, too. Asuka was nearly running, and the bodyguards assigned to her jogged to catch up.

Shinji was standing with the two stooges, and the looks on their faces when they saw her running towards them made her morning, almost chased away the butterflies swirling in her belly. She took the stairs two at a time, but before she reached them, Shinji excused himself and they quickly retreated as he moved towards her, his eyes wide.

"Asuka?" he said quickly, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She blinked as she came to a stop, one step down from him.

"Did something happen?"

She let herself pant for a while, and watched him. He did it again. He stood a little straighter, and his shoulders pressed back, tightening his uniform shirt around his chest. His stomach pulled in, not as an affectation but just because that's where it was supposed to be.

"Asuka?"

"I'm fine," she said, hurriedly.

"Are you sure? If there's something wrong, I want to help."

She looked up at him. He meant it. He meant it. He broke up the two idiots trying to sell her pictures before and didn't expect anything in return, he didn't even tell her, and-

He reached out. His movement was gentle, halting. He almost touched her cheek, but didn't.

"Have you been crying?"

An electric jolt ran up her spine. She reared back.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

He pulled back as though he'd touched a hot stove. "I'm sorry! I-"

"Get out of my way," she snapped, shouldering past him. She left him there, staring after her in her wake.

She brushed at her eye with her wrist. Of course she hadn't been crying, the idiot. It was just hay fever.

---

Shinji was actually surprised when Toji nudged his shoulder with his knuckles. He watched Rei closely as she walked into the room and sat down at the seat by the window, previously unoccupied, as if waiting for her. No one in the room paid her any mind, but in a sort of deliberate way, not indifferent but purposely ignoring her. For her part, Rei ignored everything, even the chat, and simply cupped her chin in her hand stared out the window. Shinji thought he'd imagined it before, or that he'd been mistaken somehow, but there was no denying it now. Her arm had never been broken, and her eye was intact. Her skull was fine, too.

When he turned around, he momentarily saw the flickers of neurons in Toji's brain before he remember to unfocus his gaze and return to the surface of things. He shook his head.

"What is it with you," Toji whispered, "first the demon, and now the ghost."

Shinji blinked. Toji could be oddly poetic at times.

"It's not like that," he sighed.

"Then what's it like?"

He considered that for a moment, in silence. Telling anyone that he knew Rei was related to him somehow, whatever that implied, would confirm the existence of a leak, of someone feeding him information. He couldn't betray Professor Fuyutsuki's confidence like that. He couldn't tell Toji what was really bothering him, either, namely that he saw Rei beaten and broken in the entry plug, and then, not long after, completely healed. Fuyutsuki said they were related.

Related how?

"Well," Toji said, snapping him from his reverie. "Your wife sure thinks it is."

"She's not my… what?"

Toji angled his head towards the front of the classroom, where Asuka was angrily ranting at Hikari.

"I can't hear them, but she looks mad," said Toji.

Shinji felt a pang of guilt as he focused his attention on the girls at the front of the room.

"He thought I was crying! Can you believe the nerve? I'm an Eva pilot. I'm not some stupid, weak little girl," Asuka growled.

Hikari looked at her in a mixture of confusion and bemusement. "I'm sure he just-"

"Then he spends all morning staring at that… that doll. The little pervert probably wants to dress her up as a maid or something."

Hikari sighed. "You act like everyone here is some kind of huge pervert."

"They are!" said Asuka. "Look at what they make us wear to school!"

He glanced back at Rei. He understood why someone would stare at her. She was strange, but in an exotic, almost alluring way. He could certain see himself finding her attractive, had he not known the truth. She had a curious, indifferent air to her- she wore no makeup and it looked like she cut her hair herself, and crudely at that, more to get it out of the way than the craft some kind of appearance. He found himself wondering what kind of life she'd led to end up like that, just staring out the window. The idea of putting her in a maid outfit didn't seem very appealing. Asuka, on the other hand, wearing white stockings and a frilly apron over-

Where did that come from?

"Uh oh," said Kensuke. "The teacher said there's going to be a test."

"In what?" said Toji. "He never talks about anything but Second Impact."

Shinji glanced at the clock. He was almost looking forward to going to work.

---

Ritsuko stared at the open folder on her desk, trying to parse the information she was seeing. The genetic material from the sample was unlike anything she'd ever seen, neither angel nor human. It was a human genotype, except there was a third set of nucleotides grafted to the strand, producing not a double but a triple helix, and the cells from the sample had too many chromosomes. It was as if it came from a human being with two fathers, one human and one something else. Moreover, the sample, currently sitting frozen in specimen container in the depths of Terminal Dogma, refused to die, and more than that, the cells grew even healthier anytime she looked at them, particularly if they were exposed to light. There was something missing, something she wasn't seeing, and it bothered her.

She smelled coffee. Hot coffee. She sat up from the disaster area that was her work bench and turned around on her chair. Shinji was standing in the door, holding a cup of coffee. He blushed, as he always did. For some reason, that made Ritsuko herself feel self-conscious, and she flipped her labcoat over her legs and beckoned him to enter.

"Misato told me to bring you this."

Ritsuko sighed and accepted the cup, taking a sip.

"This isn't from the machine."

"I made it," Shinji said, proudly.

"Did you, now. Misato sent you with it."

"She said you look tired."

"Do I look tired?"

He blinked. "Um," he said.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"What are you doing?"

She turned around and flipped the folder closed, almost spilling the coffee in the process.

"I'm… working. It's classified."

Shinji sighed. "I get that a lot."

"Well," said Ritsuko, "I don't think Misato told you what you were getting into. You couldn't really help me, anyway. There's a lot of math."

"I like math," said Shinji.

"Difficult math," said Ritsuko. "Is there anything else?"

He scratched his head. "Yes. I don't know how to ask you this, but…"

Her eyebrow arched. "What?"

"Rei… err, Pilot Ayanami, is she-"

"Don't talk about her," Ritsuko said quickly. "Don't even bring it up."

Shinji blinked. "I just-"

"I know, you're worried about her. It's cute, Shinji, but everything related to Rei is classified."

"If you say so," said Shinji, dejected. Then, he stopped. Ritsuko realized he was staring at one of the papers laid out on her desk, and moved to cover it with her hands.

"Um," he said, "I didn't mean-"

"You shouldn't even be in here," said Ritsuko, more tired than anything. "I can't believe Misato-"

"You made a mistake."

She blinked. "What?"

He pointed to the page he was looking at, glanced across the table, and picked up a pencil. Hastily, he crossed out an equation and rewrote it. She moved to stop him, until she saw what he'd written. He was right.

"How did you do that? This isn't exactly high school level material."

"I told you, I like math," said Shinji.

---

Kozo knocked on Katusragi's office door once, twice, and then nudged it open.

"Captain?"

"Subcommander? Come in."

He pushed the door open and found her huddled behind her desk, nearly obscured by the mass of papers spread out in front of her. She was scrawling away on one of them with a pen, and held her head in other hand, leaning on her palm as if she was having a hard time keeping her head up. Fuyutsuki circled the desk, looking over the material. There was nothing of any particular complexity, there was just so very much of it.

"Papers, papers, papers," Misato muttered, "I find out I need a form, and then I have to fill out a form to request the form I need to get the form. This is a nightmare."

Fuyutsuki said nothing. What could he tell her, that this was all arranged in advance, that her position was mostly artifice, and that she was only really needed to guide the pilots in combat? He couldn't be sure if she would be relieved or become incensed at the injustice of it. He cleared his throat.

"I was looking for your assistant, actually. I need to borrow him."

"Oh," said Katsuragi. "I sent him to take some coffee to Ritsuko. He makes the best coffee."

"I see," said Fuyutsuki. "I'm surprised you don't have him working on thinning your pile."

"I'm performing an experiment," said Katusragi.

"Of what sort?"

"You'll see."

Admittedly confused, he strode out of the office and down the hall, winding his way through the installation. He never thought an affinity for mandalas would make itself useful when navigating his workplace, but then he never thought he would be recruited by force to join an apocalyptic cult planning to end the world, either.

He found the door to her office hanging open, as usual. Everyone with access to this level was cleared, so there was no real concern for security this far into the base, but it was still disconcerting how casual and sloppy she could be. He was used to the stink of cigarettes and old, stale coffee, but today it was overwhelmed by the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and he had to admit it did smell particularly good, his preference for tea aside.

Akagi was hunched over her desk, and surprisingly, so was Shinji, so close to her their arms were almost pressed together. He was working at something furiously with a pencil while she looked on, appraising him over the rims of her glasses. She looked up when Fuyutsuki entered, and looked at him blankly.

"What are you doing?" said Fuyutsuki.

Akagi's mouth tightened. "I was teaching him some math."

Fuyutsuki raised his eyebrow. "You were."

Shinji turned around. "Professor?"

"The basics of AT-Field theory," said Akagi. "It's all been published."

Fuyutsuki waved a hand. "I'm sure you wouldn't divulge anything he needn't know."

"Is there something you need, sir?" said Shinji.

"Not now, you can take care of it for me later."

"Oh," said Shinji.

Fuyutsuki put his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

---

Asuka's eyes became lidded as she leaned back in Unit One's seat. She couldn't go to sleep, but couldn't do anything, not even listen to music or read. She'd long grown used to the lengthy, contemplative silence of the synch test, the process of sitting in the Evangelion and synching with it for long periods to take readings and make adjustments to perfect the interface. Her hair swirled about her in thick strands, infused with the LCL. She reached up to brush it out of her face.

It felt curious, synching with Unit One. It was different from Unit Two. The Production Model was more refined in its design and movements. She could feel the jury-rigged parts of the armor and the oddities in the joints pulling at her, a second set of ghostly limbs resting over her own, but there was something underneath it, something more than just an interface with a machine. It felt closer, for lack of a better word, more immediate, the sensations of the genetically engineered creature hiding inside the armor more easily read, more a feeling than an awareness of mechanical conditions. She could almost feel it breathing.

On top of that, there was a surprising familiarity. At first, it felt uncomfortable, different, even though the plugs were functionally interchangeable. She'd heard the technicians mumbling about the Eva's idiosyncrasies, and there was the odd incident where it seemed to turn and look at her, but it was a explainable, the quirks of the first testing model of a very cutting edge construction. She turned her head a little and the Eva responded, the neck joint grinding as it looked slightly towards the other cage, where Unit Zero was held. Helpfully, the Eva sensed her interest and focused on the other Unit, bringing it up with a display showing its inactivity. Inert and bound in frozen bakelite, Unit Zero had tried to kill its pilot and escape the confines of the cage. It was a bitter reminder of how tenuous her situation was, how it was too easy and too familiar and she could be lost if she wasn't careful.

She thought she felt something. The liquid atmosphere of the plug warmed, and she let her head slide back against the headrest again, strangely comforted it. It felt home-like, safe, and she felt the confusion and stress of the day slide out of her.

Her eyes were open, but she felt as if she was dreaming. The events of the morning played out again, cold, clinical, detached, like watching a recording. She watched herself in her mind's eye, and felt ridiculous about creeping through Ayanami's apartment block like a scared little girl, jumping at shadows and staring at corners. The sensation of comfort increased, and she instinctively pulled her legs to her chest, sliding to the side a little bit, letting her head rest against the side of the seat. She remembered seeing Rei emerge from her little bathroom.

There was something wrong.

Her eyes were red painted buttons, sewn into a face of pure white cloth, and blue lengths of yarn dangled down over her cheeks. Her mouth was a puffy line, inscribed in her face with knotted string. Asuka put her hand to her chest, and realized her heart was trying to pound out through her ribcage. Her breaths came short and clipped, and immediately her head began to swim, stars swirling in her vision as she puffed the LCL in and out too quickly to get enough oxygen from it, life-sustaining current or no.

In her mind's eye, an orange extension cord draped over Rei's shoulder, looped around her neck and then around itself, around and around into a hangman's knot, and pulled-

She sat up with a start, and the Evangelion yanked at its restraints, Unit One jerking in unison with her. She felt it again, the pressing sensation of breaths not her own, air tasted through riveted metal plates. Against her own heartbeat she felt the rhythmic, thundering pulses of the Eva's own heart, the dormant organ somehow awakened. With each thump-thump, her own pulse slowed with it. The fluid around her grew warmer, and there was a sudden spike in the pressure, not unwelcome but strangely comforting, almost like an embrace. She relaxed back into the seat.

"Asuka?" said a voice. "Asuka, what happened? Your synch ratio-"

"I know," Asuka said sharply. "It dropped. I dozed off a little, it won't-"

"That's just it. It went up. It almost hit 90."

Asuka blinked. "What? Who is this?"

"Lieutenant Ibuki. Doctor Akagi went upstairs for a minute."

Asuka let herself relax again. The same feeling started to come over her, and she retracted sharply, sitting up again, but the Eva, it seemed, persisted, as if there were a pair of hands on her shoulders, steadying her. Other images came to her unbidden, other memories. Shinji. His face floated into her inner sight, always looking at her in that curious way of his. She couldn't find the words for it. She sighed, and rubbed at her eyes, instantly annoyed at the feel of the slick plugsuit glove against her skin.

"We're almost done," said Ibuki. "We can stop, if you like."

"Get me out of here," said Asuka.

She leaned back and waited. The LCL went cold the lights went dark, and suddenly she felt heavy with her own presence, alone in a hollow metal tube. The liquid drained out with a great rolling sound, and she quickly leaned to one side to evacuate the contents of her lungs into it. She'd have to deal with the small quantity she swallowed as she fought her gag reflex, same as always. It didn't help to have it slurping around in her stomach as the plug ejected, thrusting her forward, and then back into the seat. She leaned over the edge of the hatch for a moment once it opened, and then swung her legs over to drop down onto the platform.

There were a few technicians there, already ministering to the Eva, going over the plug, and tastefully ignoring her body-hugging plugsuit. Lieutenant Ibuki came up to her, carrying a clipboard.

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," said Asuka, sweeping her fingers through her hair. She flicked a streamer of LCL out into space, to let it join the great pool of it below.

"Your numbers were very good," said Ibuki. "Even without the spike, you managed a two point improvement."

"Of course I did," said Asuka.

She made her way down into the locker room, headed straight into the shower, and started working to scrub the link liquid out of her hair, flopping it onto the tiled floor to let it swirl around the drain, livid and red. She plucked the bottle of the shampoo off the wall and lathered it into her hair, and let it rest there while she stripped off her plugsuit. Once it hit the floor with a wet slap, she started running the soap off of her head, and it mingled with the LCL swirling around the drain, white froth floating on top of the thinned red.

"Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!"

Asuka nearly jumped out of her skin, spun on her heels, and struggled not to fall as he feet slid out from under her. She whipped her arms around, trying to steady herself first, then cover herself with her arms, twisting around her own body.

Misato stood at the edge of the shower, grinning. "Haven't you ever seen Psycho?"

"Go to hell!" Asuka shouted, pitching the shampoo bottle at her.

Misato dodged easily, ducking to the side. "Great numbers on the test, I-"

"Do you mind?" Asuka snapped.

"Prude," said Misato, stepping back out into the locker room.

When she emerged, wrapped up in a towel, Misato was milling around between the rows of lockers, humming to herself, arms folded across her chest, staring at the ceiling. She turned her back as Asuka moved to dress.

She started putting her school uniform back on.

"We're going to need you in Unit One for the Unit Zero reactivation," said Misato.

"When?"

"In a few days, when Rei's cast comes off."

Asuka stared at Misato's back, as she buttoned her shirt. Did she know? She stopped, her fingers hovering over the last button. Could she ask? She glanced around the locker room. Did they have bugs in here? Cameras? Would someone know?

"What do you need me for?"

"To restrain it, if it goes berserk again."

Asuka's breath caught. If Unit Zero went berserk again, they'd need to replace it, maybe bring Unit Two to Japan early, transport it by air rather than by sea, as planned. Maybe Unit Zero would need to be put down, and that girl…

She stared at the floor. What was she thinking? She tried to button the last button but her hands were too shaky. She didn't need it, anyway, since she wasn't actually going to school, so she let it hang open and started pulling on her skirt instead.

"Fine," she said, finally.

"You'll have to miss school."

Asuka snorted.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"I have to stay. Shinji is going to walk you home."

Asuka scrunched her eyebrows together and scowled. "I don't need a babysitter."

She clipped her nerve clips back on, and headed out. When she walked out of the locker room, he was waiting, leaning against the wall, staring down at his feet. He perked up when he noticed her, and rocked onto the balls of his feet. He didn't say anything as they started to walk, didn't try to make any small talk as they got into the elevator together, just pushed the button for the garage without asking. He walked just behind her as they headed for the staff car that would driver her home. As she moved to slide into the back seat, he put his hand out and she rested hers on it, out of pure instinct. Her fingers curled around his palm for just a moment before she quickly drew her hand back. He crossed to the other side and sat down beside her, letting his head fall against the headrest. He watched out the window as they drove, seemingly fascinated by the Geofront and then by the world outside, after the tunnel.

The ride to the apartment was uneventful. Shinji didn't have anything to say, apparently. When they arrived, he leapt out of the car to rush to open the door for her, and again offered his hand to steady her. She took it again, just for an instant. It was strange, resting her weight on his palm, even for a second. He was so damned strong, as much as he tried to hide it. He picked up her schoolbag and his own and followed her up the steps into the apartment. As they walked to the elevator, he looked around intently. There was such a light in his eyes, they almost seemed to glow.

The elevator doors slid shut and clacked together. Asuka reached out for the button, and her finger stopped for just a moment before she pressed it. The elevator started to move, and her finger rested over the stop button.

On pure impulse, she pressed it. The car stopped.

Shinji looked at her expectantly. He swallowed.

"Shinji," said Asuka.

His face was a cypher. She could see him forcing his expression to be neutral, expectant, waiting. He glanced around the elevator.

Asuka swallowed. Her throat was suddenly dry. She had to force the words out. "When I saw Ayanami this morning…"

He blinked. "Yes?"

She looked around now, absurdly, as if there could be someone tucked away in the elevator, listening to them. She swallowed again, though her mouth was still dry.

"Her cast, the bandages, it's all fake."

Shinji looked at her for a moment. "I know."

She started. "How?"

He shook his head. "I knew there was something wrong. I saw her after the first attack, Asuka. She… she almost died. She shouldn't be able to walk."

"She… she threatened me."

"What?"

"She said if I told anyone, there would be 'consequences', whatever that meant. She said it was 'classified'."

"Is that why you were upset?"

"Yes," she lied. "Being an Eva pilot is my life. But… I couldn't…"

"Have you talked to Misato about this?"

She shook her head.

"Good," he said, tapping the elevator button. "Don't, not yet."

The elevator arrived, and the doors parted. Shinji led the way, opened the apartment door, and waited for her, inside. She slipped off her shoes and he follow suit, and they walked into the apartment. Her hands were shaking, and she resisted the urge to grab her skirts to steady them. Shinji stopped in the living room, staring out the window.

"Will you be okay if I go out for a while?"

She shook her head.

"Okay? I'm fine. I don't need a nursemaid."

He sighed. "Okay. I'll be back."

---

Rei carefully pinned the latest printout to the wall, then stood back to stare at the pattern. She still had her uniform shirt on, more out of comfort than modesty. The latest article didn't fit with the others. The pattern of strings didn't accommodate it, it found no place. The others, spread out on the bed, were much the same. She re-read the headline and skimmed the text again, waiting for the connection to leap out at her. Now that she had the time, she'd spread the pattern across the entire wall, linking the strands of information together. The center of the pattern was Superman, the articles giving just enough information to glean his movements, and determine his first appearance- of course, the papers printed nothing of his activities during the first attack.

The glass door of her small balcony rattled as it was struck three times, by quick taps. She turned, confused. It should have been inaccessible. A bird, perhaps? Another three taps dismissed that notion. She stood up, brushed the curtains back, and in a rare expression of shock, her jaw dropped.

It was him. Standing there in the fading afternoon light, feet planted wide, arms crossed across his chest on the balcony. The space, just a little alcove where her washer and dryer sat outside, where she dried her clothes, seemed too small to contain him. She slid the door open. If he meant her harm, he would have simply smashed through it.

"I'm sorry about the intrusion, but I don't think the security men would like it very much if I came in the front door."

"No," said Rei, "they would not."

"Can I come in?"

She stepped back. He walked into the room, turning to fit his shoulders through the narrow balcony door. He looked around in confusion, stopping several times to stare at certain points. He turned around and looked at her.

"You're not hurt."

"That is correct."

"How is that possible?"

"I cannot tell you."

"I saw you after the first attack. You were really hurt. How did you get better so fast?"

"I cannot tell you," she repeated.

"You didn't put your fake cast on," he said quietly.

"There would be no point. You can see through objects."

His eyes went wide. "How did you-"

"I deduced it."

He glanced at the information wall. She could see his eyes following the strings, working out the pattern.

"You're trying to figure out who I am."

"That is correct."

"Why?"

"I do not know."

He walked around the apartment, very slowly.

"You live like this?"

She looked around. What did he see?

"Like what?"

"This place is a pit. I couldn't believe you actually lived her until I saw you."

"It is serviceable."

He stopped, facing away from her. He took in a deep breath.

"Who are you?"

"I am Rei Ayanami, pilot of Evangelion Unit Zero."

"I know that," he said, sharply, "but there's something else. You look, you smell so familiar to me. Why is that?"

"I do not know."

He looked at her, intently. "Why is that?"

"I said, I do not know."

"You're telling the truth."

She cocked her head to the side. "How do you know that?"

"I know how a polygraph works. I can see your skin conductivity, the heat bloom on your face. I can hear your heart beating. There's something else I can see, too, but I don't even know what it is."

She blinked. "I do not understand."

"I don't either," he shrugged. "For the last few days, I can see… things, it's like colors, around everything that's alive. I don't know what it is."

Fascinating. Could he see blood patterns? What did he see when he looked at her?

"Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm going to find out. If you're in danger, I can help you."

She considered him for a moment. At first glance he seemed so silly, with his costume and the symbol on his chest, but he radiated such power, such presence, that it was almost overwhelming. He didn't simply stand in the small room, he filled it, overawed it with his simply being there. Like the balcony, it seemed to small to contain him. The world was too small to contain him.

"I am told only what I need to know," she said flatly. "The Commander gives me orders, and I follow them."

"He orders you to live here?"

"Yes."

His eyes narrowed. "He orders you to threaten the other pilots?"

She blinked. "I did not threaten anyone."

"You're telling the truth. Why did you-"

"You are referring to Pilot Soryu. I did not threaten her. I informed her of facts. The Commander has made it clear to me that there will be severe consequences if classified information is compromised."

"Yes," said Superman. "I understand, but I know that you're faking your injuries."

"Yes," said Rei. "You do."

"You'll report that to him."

"Yes."

"You'll tell him I was here."

"Yes."

He studied her for a moment.

"Good."

He walked past her, back out onto the balcony. He stood there for a moment, as if expecting her to say something.

"Why do you help people?"

His eyes widened a little. He looked at her for a long moment.

"Because I can."

He rose up. His feet simply stopped touching the ground, and he slid up and out of her field of view, disappearing into the evening sky. She traced his path out onto the balcony, waited for a moment. She had new, valuable information. He had simply given it to her, fed her a vast feast of data. The meaning of it teased her mind, pressed to the forefront.

She walked to her bed, and sat down, and looked at the wall. The pattern made more sense, now, but she realized there was another pattern, one she had only just begun to see. A new pattern, and she was part of it, and so was the Commander.

"Because I can," she whispered.

She looked up at the wall again. Something teased at her still, tugged at her mind.

She froze.

She smelled familiar to him.

That narrowed the pattern down significantly.

---

Fuyutsuki stood up from the bench when he saw Shinji arrive. The boy looked tired, and beneath the regal magnificence, there was a tiredness to him. Fuyutsuki had never seen him look tired, never even less than upbeat, but tonight he seemed deeply fatigued, and it made the tears in his dungaree pants and the scuffs and damage to his boots stand out, highlight the effect. He didn't speak to Fuyutsuki. Instead, he walked past him, skirting the edge of the overlook, not looking out at the lights of the city. He walked to the edge of the clearing, wound up, and put his fist through a tree.

The trunk exploded in a shower of splinters, the top half creaking and groaning as it rolled and tumbled over the edge, crashing and snapping, the sound of crushing celery magnified a thousandfold as branches snapped. Shinji very calmly walked over to him, sat down on the bench, and put his face in his hands.

Fuyutsuki didn't look at him.

"What happened?"

Shinji lifted his head up. "I went to see Rei."

"You what?"

"I had to!" he stood up. "Asuka, she-"

Fuyutsuki took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning."

He waited, patiently, as Shinji ranted, wandering around the clearing. He left nothing out. Kozo winced as he listened to the way the girl reacted when he tried to comfort her, felt his pain. It made it worse to realize that the boy, himself, didn't realize what it really meant. He thought about telling him, explaining why Rei might frighten her so; he was no fool.

"Rei is a unique person," Fuyutsuki said quietly. "She meant no harm."

"I know that. What did my father do to her?"

Fuyutsuki blinked. "Shinji, you must understand-"

"Understand what? You said she's related to me. Related how? I lived with my mother's family, I don't have any cousins. She can't be from my father's side of the family."

"How do you know that?" said Fuyutsuki.

"I just know."

His breath caught. He was treading on fragile ground, here.

"Your father is protective of her. He-"

"Protective? You call that protecting? She lives in a demilitarized zone!"

Fuyutsuki stood up.

"Shinji, I know you want to swoop in and save her, but you need to step back, and think. Superman can't fix everything."

The boy looked at him, and he shivered. There was so much of his mother in him.

"What else can I do? My father ordered her not to talk to me, and she started spewing 'classified' this and 'classified' that at Asuka. She scared her, professor. I don't know what to do. I can't… she needs me. But, Asuka… when I saw her crying I…"

"You'll find a way, Shinji. Your mother believed in you. I believe in you."

Blinking away tears, Shinji looked him in the eye. "How could my mother marry a man like that?"

Fuyutsuki's breath caught. How the hell was he supposed to answer that?

"I don't know," said Fuyutsuki. "I don't know."

"He's a bully," said Shinji. "I don't like bullies."

He turned, and started to walk away. Fuyutsuki put a hand on his shoulder.

"Shinji, think this through-"

"I am," said Shinji. "I'm… there's something I need from you. I need to know how much Misato knows. Can I trust her?"

"I would," said Fuyutsuki. "She's a good person, Shinji, if troubled, and she doesn't know any of the deeper secrets of Nerv. I wouldn't tell her your identity, though."

"Why not? I was thinking, if I told Asuka, maybe-"

"No," Fuyutsuki said quickly. "I understand why you might think that, but you can't. It will put them both in danger. Your father isn't the top of the food chain, Shinji. There are worse, more desperate men behind him. You can't imagine how deep this goes."

"No," said Shinji. "I can't imagine, but I'm going to find out."

---

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Last Child of Krypton: Redux

S

Chapter Six: Pattern Recognition