It had been nearly a fortnight since the event that had redefined virtually everything about NERV and its hapless, adolescent EVA pilots. It had been nearly that long since Ritsuko and her team of analysts had slept, and despite having poured over miles and miles of encrypted MAGI data streams, any progress in understanding the physical and psychological transferences the second and third child had endured was minimal. Hopes for a return to normalcy had been further dashed by the secretive and non-cooperative senior Ikari and the tight-lipped minions of his sworn to carry around his shroud of secrecy like a king's robe wherever he went. He appeared genuinely uninterested in either helping to restore the pilots to their proper bodies and the fate of his own son; rather, Gendo had become increasingly withdrawn, and spent the majority of his time behind closed doors, more than likely absorbed in whatever plot he was hatching most recently. NERV's press specialists, uninformed and directionless as they were, were now completely unable to suppress and quell the media outlets, each running their own variations on the insane, gender-bending tale of two of mankind's saviors, the dastardly and inscrutable "magic" of the angels, and the quasi-political cover-up NERV was doubtlessly involved in.

Though the EVA pilots were woefully benighted concerning the nefarious activities occurring all across NERV's chain of command, the second and third child had more than enough on their respective plates to worry about. For starters, both local and international media outlets had begun to follow Shinji and Asuka around and badger them for any information they could provide. Misato had arranged for each to be accompanied, whenever possible, by a small NERV security detail, but there were clear and present limits to the quality of surveillance they were tasked with providing, particularly in the case of Asuka who, in recent days, had become increasingly skillful at slipping her tail, justifying her actions by claiming the security teams were little more than an invasion of privacy and personal space.

Then there was the matter of the EVA units themselves experiencing strange and nonsensical effects, oftentimes stubbornly resisting commands or sending irregular code fragments back to the MAGI monitoring them. This was particularly troublesome, since according to the usual rhythms of hostility, Tokyo-3 was due for another angel attack at any moment. Synch test scores had been in a tailspin for nearly a week, and in the wake of the catastrophe, the majority of NERV's international funding was drying up pending a very unlikely renewal of investment capital allocation. And on top of everything else, there was GEHIRN's spy, who had apparently been at NERV for a couple of days already despite managing to remain completely invisible somewhere within the Geofront.

"What do you suppose the new pilot will be like?" Shinji asked Asuka as he gingerly squeezed toothpaste from its tube onto the small red brush. He glanced at Asuka briefly, trying to gauge her reaction, before facing the mirror and baring his teeth.

"Like I care," retorted the second child as she fastidiously buttoned up the plain white shirt that was a regular staple of Shinji's daily attire. "It's just one more kid whose synch scores I'll have the pleasure of annihilating."

"Have you met the new pilot yet?" mumbled Shinji with a mouth full of toothpaste.

"Nobody has, dimwit."

"Not true. Rei has."

Asuka bristled and turned to face the other. "How would you know that?"

"She told me, of course," the third child replied.

Asuka's brow twitched with annoyance. "When have you been chatting it up with Wonder Girl? I thought she's been too busy being your dad's puppet to even leave the Geofront lately."

Shinji spat the toothpaste into the sink. He turned. "Don't talk about her like that," he said sternly. "She's not a puppet. She's a human being. And she's my friend."

Asuka's mouth opened slightly with surprise, but she squared her jaw almost immediately and put her hands on her hips. "Yeah, OK, whatever. But you still didn't answer my question."

"From time to time, Rei comes over and helps me out with things. You know… girl things."

Asuka's irritability worsened. Lately, nearly every word that oozed out of the third child's face had pissed her off. The fact that he thought of that snowy-skinned doll as a friend. The fact that he had help in adjusting to his new body where she had none. It wasn't fair. Why should the third child be mollycoddled through this ordeal while she was left alone to fend for herself?

"Yeah, well, figures you'd need all the help you can get," she heard herself saying autonomously while she wrestled with anger, resentment and loneliness internally.

"It certainly isn't easy being you," Shinji replied softly before turning and padding out of the bathroom toward the bed where his pile of school clothes was neatly folded.

Asuka trailed the third child with her eyes. And you think it's easy being you?, she thought.

The two children continued to dress and prepare for school in silence right up until they reached the front door of Misato's apartment. As Shinji knelt to pull on the customary socks and shoes that Asuka typically wore to school, he worked up the courage to ask the second child something that had been nagging him for quite some time.

"Um… Asuka?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, what?"

"Have you… uh… had any weird… like… dreams or… uh… thoughts lately? Out of the ordinary I mean."

Shinji looked at his own body staring back at him with an incredulous stare. "Could you possibly be anymore vague?" Asuka snorted sarcastically.

"Sorry, um… I meant… like… flashes or dreams of circumstances or events that you… um… don't really understand."

The second child rolled her eyes. "I honestly haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about, Shinji," she replied.

"Nevermind," said the third child. "Forget I asked. Sorry."

Asuka stared at Shinji a moment longer. She had blatantly lied to the third child just now. The truth was that she had experienced something eerily akin to what Shinji was struggling to describe. From time to time, Asuka had completely drifted off into an extremely uncomfortable reverie wherein she was treated to a bizarre slideshow of events, memories perhaps, that she was acutely aware did not belong to her. More specifically, a recurring cast of characters appeared in these visions—Gendo Ikari, who, at least in her visions, treated his son more like an investment than a person, and also that woman, that beautiful, mahogany-haired woman that seemed to radiate love and warmth toward everyone. That woman, Asuka had come to presume, was Shinji's deceased mother, Yui Ikari. Thought she'd desperately wanted to address the issue with the third child, discussing dead mothers was perhaps something neither of the children wanted to dive into.

As Shinji reached for the doorknob, without thinking, Asuka reached forward and snatched his wrist in hers.

"Eh?" Shinji stammered, surprised, and turned to look at Asuka.

The two reddened in their faces. "Um… I uh… you still can't tie this bow correctly, can you?" the second child chided, deftly changing the subject she'd lost her nerve to address. "Face me," she ordered.

Shinji stood in front of Asuka. The two were, strangely enough, nearly the same height—possibly due to the physical prevalence of Asuka's Caucasoid genetics—and their eyes met awkwardly before the third child resorted to staring at the ground per his usual, meek, shy behavior. As he stared floorward, he silently watched Asuka's hands—his own hands—fix the bow at his—Asuka's—collarbones.

"How much longer," Shinji muttered softly, "d'ya think we'll be stuck like this?"

"Hopefully not too much longer," the third child responded curtly. "To be honest, Shin-chan, I'm absolutely done living in your body."

The two laughed together briefly, the first moment of amusement shared between the two in what seemed like forever.

"I'm done with yours too," Shinji smiled airily. "I'm definitely not cut out to be a girl, that's for sure."

"I'm not too sure about that," the second child snorted bemusedly, stretching out Shinji's arms in both directions and looking from one to the other. "You're slender, hairless, short and soft-featured. You're practically a girl already."

"Hey! That's not funny!" the third child objected vehemently to Asuka's teasing. The two chuckled again before the uneasiness of their dilemma returned. "Well… you ready to face the music?" he asked.

Asuka nodded. "Ready since the day I was born."

Shinji reached forward, grasped the doorknob in Asuka's small, delicate hand, and opened the door. Nothing could have prepared him for the spectacle that awaited him on the other side.

The door opened inward as Shinji's eyes drank in a sight that was more bizarre, shocking and unreal than any of the angels he'd done battle within in the past. There stood Rei, hand raised in a fist and poised to knock on the door. Only, it wasn't Rei. Not entirely. There were familiarities of Rei—the crimson eyes, the wintry skin, the soft features. But the hair was different, the silvery color of frozen straw rather than the celestial blue of the first child. But the most striking difference was the school uniform this echo of Rei was wearing, the uniform which belonged to a boy. And justifiably so, for though the individual standing before them possessed a dazzlingly sylph-like and androgynous countenance, this person clearly lacked the hips, breasts, and curvature of form that Rei possessed. The stranger's face melted from surprise to delight.

"Ah," he said in a soft, melodious voice. "Impeccable timing I must have. You must be the second and third children I've heard so much about."

Shinji's jaw had dropped to the floor, and as he was unable to tender a reply given his amazement, Asuka pushed past him and crossed her arms across her chest, squaring herself in the doorway, defensively shielding the third child from the stranger. "You are?"

"Nagisa," the strange boy replied, his smile never faltering. "Kaworu Nagisa. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintances—" he bowed forward aristocratically, never taking his red eyes off Asuka's. "—and I am honored to join your team of EVA pilots to defend this city against the angel attacks. Please treat me well," he concluded before straightened his back once more. From behind Asuka, Shinji struggled to regain his composure.

"So you're the new pilot I've heard so much about," Asuka ranted, her ego frothing to the surface mere moments after the competition had presented itself at last. Even in Shinji's body, Asuka was still Asuka. "The fourth child." She smirked.

"The fifth child, as it happens," Kaworu corrected her.

"Sorry, but, unless the laws of mathematics have changed in the past few days, there are currently only three EVA pilots, and the addition of you would make a fourth."

The silver-haired boy nodded. "As expected from the legendary Asuka Langley Sohryu, your skill at mathematics is superb." Asuka's brow twitched irascibly. Was the stranger making sport of her? She opened her mouth to shoot back a retort, but Nagisa continued. "All the EVA pilots up through the seventh have already been selected. The fourth has simply not yet been activated, but he's still already been chosen. Thus, I was the fifth to be chosen, so I am the fifth child."

"Do you know who the fourth child is then?" asked Shinji timidly from behind Asuka, the first words he'd manage to choke out since introductions were made.

Kaworu's gaze broke away from Asuka's and over her shoulder to where Shinji stood nervously just beyond the doorframe.

"Yes, I do, third child," he responded. "As have you."

Shinji shook his head. "I only know of the three. Well, four. Me, Asuka, Rei—and now you."

For a fraction of a second, it looked as though Nagisa's smile had become a sneer. "That is because you watch the world unfold around you with your eyes, not with your soul. Did they not teach you at NERV that the physical reality in which we live is but one of many veils which must be stripped away before you can really see the truth?"

Shinji shook his head, marveling at the statement the fifth child had just made. "N-no, they… uh… teach us how to pilot EVAs and such… about some of the computer systems and—"

"They tell us everything we need to know to kill angels," Asuka interjected, her annoyance toward the stranger growing. "And that's enough for me."

Kaworu looked from Shinji to Asuka, a broad grin still plastered on his face. "And yet, here you both are, trapped in each others' bodies, absolutely clueless as to why it happened, how or if you'll ever be able to revert to your normal selves. It seems to me that your organization doesn't share nearly enough information with either of you."

At that statement, Asuka's rage boiled over. "Oh, right, and I suppose you have all the answers, don't you, fifth child?"

Kaworu extended his arm. "Walk with me. I'm supposed to accompany the both of you to school today."

Asuka snorted. "Like I want to take your hand or anything. I can walk by myself."

The silver-haired boy smiled softly. "I was offering my hand to the lady," he countered, his astringent wit stewed to such utter perfection that even Asuka wasn't entirely sure if he was being genuine or satirical. This fact alone filled Asuka from head to foot with unbridled and barely-concealable rage. To make matters worse, Shinji nearly extended his arm were it not for Asuka snatching his hand and taking it in her own.

"Shinji and I walk to school together," the second child snapped, blushing profusely. "Follow if you must, but if you're coming with us, you'll have to answer all my questions. I'll need to vet you and make sure you're not a spy or something."

The fifth child let his arm fall back to his side, his smile never faltering. "Your terms are acceptable, Miss Sohryu," he agreed. "Shall we go?"

As the trio embarked for school, they walked the first three blocks in absolute silence, Asuka still clinging tightly to Shinji's wrist. The air was so thick with acrimony and consternation both that a prog knife would have been hard pressed to slice through it. While Asuka labored to maintain a physical barrier between the fifth child and Shinji Ikari, the third child himself continued to marvel at the physical similarities between Rei and Kaworu. It was only then that Shinji realized that he knew little more about the first child than he did the fifth. Both, it seemed, had rather mysterious origins. Both appeared to share physical traits that implied some sort of bizarre albinism. Both were remarkably intelligent and quick when it came to the regurgitation of learned data. The comparison began to break down, however, when scrutinizing their personalities; where Rei came off extremely introverted, detached, and apathetic, this new pilot appeared to be eager to fraternize and engage in social interaction with his colleagues.

From Asuka's perspective, Kaworu's civil affability was an egregious violation of her own social prominence. She'd known this boy for less than an hour and she found herself hating his guts. For some inscrutable reason, Shinji's interest in the fifth child irked her even more. It was bad enough when Rei was around; now she had to vie for attention against yet another pilot. But whose attention was she vying for? Shinji's? Rei's? Kaji or Misato? Who was she trying to impress if not herself?

As the group headed up the steps to the train station, Kaworu finally broke the silence. "I have never attended a Japanese school," he mused. "Though I am not yet entirely familiar with your customs, I do not understand the reason for wearing garments as impractical as these." He prodded at the fabric of his shirt. "I do not find this particularly comfortable."

Shinji, who still hadn't grown accustomed to wearing Asuka's sailor fuku, felt obliged to weigh in. "I don't really know either, to be honest." He pinched the skirt between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "It seems somewhat… indecent."

Asuka rolled her eyes. "I swear, Shinji. Some days I feel more Japanese than you are. The whole thing was inspired by European navy uniforms. Somebody back in the late 1800s thought they were cute, and it stuck. Gosh, don't you ever pay attention in class? Geez…"

"Still," the third child moaned. "I think Kaworu's right. The female version is kinda… ero. I miss my gakuran."

"Shinji, you may be stuck in my body, but you've definitely still got the mind of a boy," Asuka rebuked him.

The three EVA pilots sat beside one another on the bench waiting for the train to arrive. "Miss Sohryu," the fifth child asked finally. "What was it you meant to ask me? I did agree to answer any questions you might have for me, after all."

"You could start," the irascible German began, "by explaining exactly why you are here."

Kaworu thought for a minute. "I am here to assist the EVA pilots of Tokyo-3 in battling the angels."

"We were doing just fine without you," snorted Asuka. "We've killed every angel we've come across. I don't see any reason for you to get involved."

The silver-haired boy's eyes twinkled with disconcerting intuition. "Though that may be the case, your battles have clearly not been without… consequences."

"It doesn't matter what body I'm in," the second child bragged. "I'll still take down any angel you throw at me."

Kaworu grinned. "Indeed! On that point, I agree entirely. It does not matter what body you are in at all—our bodies are simply vessels for the soul, and the soul is infinitely stronger than the body. However, seeing as this event was your first… transference… we could not stand by and leave the fate of millions in your hands, capable as they may be."

"Um… who exactly do you mean by 'we'?" Shinji interjected.

Kaworu's crimson eyes flashed from Asuka to Shinji. "A rather astute question. By 'we', I of course am referring to my employer and benefactor, the agency which you know as GEHIRN."

Shinji's brow furrowed in thought. "Wasn't… uh… didn't GEHIRN basically just… become NERV?"

"While you are mostly correct, Mr. Ikari, there are private interests within GEHIRN that are continuously reincarnated into new entities. As you are doubtlessly aware, there are several international branches of GEHIRN spread out across the world. Aside from the ever-important headquarters here in Tokyo-3, there are two additional branches located in the United States, another in Germany that our friend here Asuka has recently been transferred from, another in Hong Kong, and more recently, South Africa and Switzerland as well. There is another, smaller station, or so I have heard, now fully-functional somewhere in the arctic regions, though I know not where."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Asuka cut in. "Is there a point to all this or are you just here to annoy us with another history lesson? Save it for school if that's the case because I don't want to hear it."

"My point," the fifth child continued, completely unfazed by Asuka's boorishness, "was that realistically, it is impossible to sustain the growth of such an organization, particularly one which necessitates an immense military budget, without solid financial backing. Have you ever wondered where that money is coming from? Or their support? Historically, the people of Earth have been extremely wary of multinational military contractors, particularly those managing to remain operationally discreet."

Shinji shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I think I've heard my father talk about the United Nations before. Maybe that's where all the money comes from."

"Honestly, who cares?" the second child moaned. "There's a threat to humanity, and a lot of people with money want to ensure our survival. How much more complicated can it be?"

Kaworu leaned back in the seat, eyes fixed skyward. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before responding to Asuka's latest batch of insensitivity. "Mr. Ikari, did you ever ask your father exactly why every single individual evaluated as an EVA pilot is fourteen years old? Or, perhaps more importantly, why they are willing to throw away the lives of children so recklessly instead of using seasoned combat engineers from any of this planet's military agencies?"

Shinji nodded. "I did once, but the only thing my father told me was that nobody else could."

"And you, Asuka?" the fifth child asked. "Have you worked out a theory on that matter?"

"Like I care," she shot back. "My God, if you are a spy for GEHIRN, you're the most boring spy I'll probably ever meet."

"So neither of you ever thought it strange that every EVA pilot was born in the very year following the Second Impact?"

The notion railed into Shinji's consciousness like a bullet train. He'd never really thought about it before, but the fifth child made an interesting point. Still, he didn't see the connection.

"That is sort of weird, I suppose," the third child conceded, "but I don't get your point. You said that you worked for GEHIRN, that there were private interests within the agency, and that the amount of funding we receive for our efforts must be immense, but why are you telling me these things? Who are these private interests you speak of, and how do they relate to me, Asuka and Rei? We're just EVA pilots. We're not politicians or military leaders or even anybody important. I've even heard my father say numerous times that EVA pilots are easily replaceable."

The intercom in the train station beeped, and a voice sounded off indicating the arrival of the local loop train they were waiting for. As the trio stood up in anticipation of the train, Kaworu placed his hands upon Shinji's shoulders and said softly, "You are rather ignorant of your own position, Ikari-kun."