Asuka's eyelids slowly fluttered open. At first, the brightness was dizzying and disorienting; the blinds of the medical recovery room had been drawn and one of the windows opened, the plain, periwinkle curtains gently swishing amidst a midday breeze. It was only then that the second child became cognizant of the weight atop her legs, and as she sat up in the bed her eyes wandered sleepily from the opened window to the foot of the cot. To where the body of a fiery-haired teenage girl lay, hunched over the bed—drooling, snoring, and asleep—arms crossed atop Asuka's knees to support his head like a pillow. A deep shade of red crept into Asuka's cheeks while her brown eyes drank in the scene. As she balled her hand into an angry fist—more for effect than anything else as she'd long ago realized that now decking Shinji was akin to punching herself in the face—she heard a soft but measured voice from just to her right.
"Before you accuse Ikari-kun of anything," the first child began, placing the suspiciously manga-sized book she was reading face down upon the table beside her before directing a stare at Asuka so terrifyingly frigid that even the hot-headed second child fell temporarily mute, "you should know that you've been unconscious now for nearly three days. Naturally, everyone has been by the infirmary to check on your progress, but Ikari-kun hasn't left your side the entire time. He hasn't eaten or slept hardly at all the entire time because he was so worried about your recovery." Rei rose from her seat and walked over to the bed. She stared blankly at the sleeping third child for several moments before shooting an icy glare back at the other. "Frankly, I do not understand Ikari-kun's behavior. Or why he cares so much about somebody so… selfish."
At the last comment, Asuka clicked her tongue in her mouth. How dare Wondergirl admonish me for being selfish? Just who exactly does she think she is!
"I just… hope… that when Ikari-kun wakes up, you won't be so hard on him. Right now he'll need you to be strong for him."
"Wh… what does that mean?"
For something of a minute, Rei said nothing. Asuka studied the girl's blank face with all her might, searching for even a hint of emotion. At length, the first child bit her lower lip gently in thought as though she wanted to say something but was unable to muster the courage to get it out. Spotting the twitch, Asuka's blush spread into her ears and crept down the back of her neck.
"W…wait… something happened… didn't it?" Asuka whispered.
"You don't remember?" Rei asked.
Asuka scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "To tell you the truth, Ayanami, I don't really remember too much of anything. Honestly, the last thing I remember is fighting an angel. I guess I must have got seriously cold-cocked, huh? Ah, well…"
Now it was Rei's turn to blush, but the girl managed to maintain her usual reserve, and she walked back over to where she'd been sitting earlier and began collecting her things. "I… I will let Ikari-kun tell you about it… but… when he's awake, Dr. Akagi would like to meet with both of you. It's fairly urgent."
The crimson-eyed girl meticulously gathered her belongings, placing them neatly inside her school backpack before turning to head for the door. She shot one more glance at the second and third children by the hospital bed. "Don't be too hard on Ikari-kun," the girl repeated. "I've read that it isn't easy to confess to someone the way he did, so… just keep that in mind if you feel the urge to berate him like you usually do."
"H-h-hey! What's all that supposed to mean! Confession? Hey! Ayanami, are you even listening to me?!"
But the girl had already left. The sound of the medical room door closing roused Shinji Ikari from his own slumber. He brushed Asuka's Titian bangs from his face, his now-crystal-blue eyes widening as they fell upon his old body, sitting up in the hospital bed, blushing profusely and staring directly down at him. The junior Ikari sat up stiffly in the chair he'd dragged beside the cot.
"I… uh… sorry, I was j-just…" Shinji stammered, completely unsure of what to say. Truly, he didn't exactly know how much Asuka remembered of the events of that day.
"Anta baka!" the second child blurted out shrilly, pulling awkwardly on her hospital gown with misplaced embarrassment. "G…get your lecherous hands off me!"
"B-but… n-no this isn't… you've got the wrong idea!"
The awkwardness in the air had become so palpable one could have sliced through it like a layer cake.
"I… I'm really glad you're OK, Asuka," was all Shinji could manage. "I was… s-so worried after what happened… th… they said you were dead… I mean, your vital signs… there were n-no readings, s-so… and, um… so, yeah I uh… I'm just glad you're alright. Really, really glad."
Really, really glad.
Asuka's fist uncurled slowly, and she brought her hand up to her mouth. The third child watched quizzically until hot tears began to form along the periphery of Asuka's eyelids. She began to sniff softly, causing Shinji to bristle uncomfortably.
"A… Asuka?"
"Baka!" the irascible gaijin pilot muttered. She could feel Shinji staring at her, could feel his desire to comfort her, but she couldn't even look at him through her tear-fogged eyes, couldn't allow him to see her vulnerability. She'd long ago resolved never to let anyone see or feel her weakness ever again. She decided she wasn't going to begin by letting Shinji Ikari—her rival—of all people see it.
"I… I-I'm sorry if I've offended you…"
"You make me sick," Asuka choked out. Shinji gasped as the girl continued. "All you do is apologize for everything. You stay here for three days by my bedside, improperly feeding or grooming my body. God, my hair's an absolute mess! You could have at least brushed it while you were wasting time around here doing what you normally do—absolutely nothing!"
"I'm sorry…"
"Didn't you hear me? I said stop apologizing!"
"Y-yeah, sorry… uh… I mean…"
Asuka scowled, but for reasons unbeknownst even to her, what Rei had said to her just before leaving echoed once more in her mind. Don't be too hard on Ikari-kun. And what was that comment the first child had made? Something about a confession? Her cheeks now adopting a fuchsia hue, she crossed her arms and pouted indignantly. "Uh… yeah, I mean, it's not that like… I'm not… grateful… or anything that you wasted your time looking after me or anything…" Becoming tongue-tied, all Asuka could do at this point was scowl angrily. "God damn it, I don't know why I'm so bad at this," the second child mumbled, half to herself.
"At least I'm happy to know there is at least one thing the great Asuka isn't perfect at," the junior Ikari stammered, a broad smile crossing his face. "With all your accomplishments and motivation, you really do make me feel like quite an underachiever sometimes."
Asuka snorted, masking how abashed she was at the entire situation with further social critique. "Well, duh, naturally," the second child said flatly. "I mean I can't help that I'm just so naturally gifted at things… and it's inevitable that I make people angry because of it… but really, uh… it's no reason to apologize all the time, Shinji… even if—" Suddenly, out of nowhere, her analysis of Shinji's previous statement took a sharp turn in a different direction. "Wait-a-minute… what do you mean there's one thing I'm not perfect at? Wh…what is it you think I'm bad at?"
Shinji smirked. Asuka reddened.
"Uh, well, look," Shinji placed the tip of his left thumb into his mouth and bit gently in thought. The gesture was so ostensibly feminine and cutesy that Asuka's already pounding heart nearly burst out of her chest. He turned to face her directly, his smile never faltering. "I know you must absolutely hate me and I'm sure you have totally justifiable reasons for hating me. I know I'm not particularly strong or brave, smart or courageous… I'm physically weak… I'm shy and awkward… I'm not really special or unique in any way… I don't have any interests that make me stand out or worth engaging as a person… but… there's one thing that I always feel good about doing… in fact… I might even go so far as to say that I'm good at doing it… and really… it's the only time I'm really comfortable doing something for or around somebody else."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Taking care of you, of course," Shinji said softly, staring down at the blankets, his embarrassment reaching heights of which he'd never before experienced. "I guess it can't be helped, really," the junior Ikari went on. "I figured that you might not remember what happened during the angel attack, but I'm positive you're going to hear about it from somebody soon enough, so I might as well just tell you myself right now. And, uh, be a man about it, uh, so to speak."
Asuka Langley Sohryu stared incredulously at the image of herself, her own freckled cheeks burning, her cerulean eyes sparkling back at her from behind ginger fringe. She gulped hard.
"We all thought you were dead… and, uh… I thought I was never going to see you again… and… well… Asuka, the truth is—"
Without warning, the door hissed open as Major Katsuragi strode into the room, hugging a black, NERV standard-issue clipboard to her chest. She was unusually hard around the eyes, and there seemed to be very little emotion in her countenance at all.
"Oh, good, you're both awake. I guess I couldn't have timed this better," the children's purple-haired guardian said. The second and third child exchanged awkward glances. Misato read the little exchange with a level of scrutiny available only to veterans of the socio-cultural plane. "If you two were busy working things out I can just go get a soda and come back in fifteen."
"It's fine!" the second child blurted out. "Wh… what did you come here to tell us?"
"Well frankly I didn't know you would be awake yet, Asuka, so I came to try to convince Shinji-kun to eat something. It's been—"
"Yeah, yeah, three whole days he's been at my bedside. I already got this spiel from Ayanami."
"Right, well, and—"
"Dr. Akagi wants to see both of us as soon as possible. That about the jist, Katsuragi?"
"Uh… yeah," the other replied, brow twitching with aggravation.
"So… was there something else?"
"As a matter of fact… there is," Misato cleared her throat. "Until further notice, you two have been suspended from active protocols."
"Whaaaaaat?" both Asuka and Shinji chimed in unison.
"Well, it's not due to poor performance or anything of that sort," the major went on, "but there's just a lot going on right now, as you'll find out soon enough, and everyone here—well, mostly everyone—thought it best that you kids had a break from field ops. I mean, hell, you've both certainly earned it. Nobody's gonna deny that."
"Uh… Misato… then… who's going to pilot EVA while we're suspended? You know, if there's another attack or something?" Shinji queried.
"That's being handled," Misato grumbled. "We've already processed the selection of another EVA pilot from the local pool. They'll essentially be trained as a backup option—it's actually something your father suggested be done quite some time ago, Shinji."
"Wow… are they here already?"
"No," Misato replied. "But NERV agents have already been dispatched to his house to inform his family. They'll be waiting there until he arrives home from school so that he can be briefed."
"Uwaaah! Moving so quickly!" Shinji replied, sounding colloquially girly when he spoke. "But in the meantime, can Ayanami hold down the fort all by herself? I mean, after what happened last time, having just one active Evangelion seems sort of… you know… risky."
"Apparently our new customer Kaworu Nagisa will begin synch ratio testing this afternoon. The way I understand it is that he'll be the backup pilot for whichever of your units he synchs with more effectively—at least until we get the new pilot all setup here and trained. Or until the two of you make a full recovery from your… ordeal."
"Hmph!" Asuka huffed. "I don't need any recovery time, and I certainly don't need a substitute like that silver-haired freak temping for me."
"Ah, Asuka… perhaps calling Nagisa-san a freak is a bit…"
"Get out of my way, Ikari," Asuka boomed. "I'm getting out of this bed. I've been here for what? Three whole days now? I can barely feel my legs. Move out of my way, I'm getting up. I—"
Unaware that her strength had yet to fully return and that her legs were still shaky from disuse, Asuka tried to stand and failed, teetering precariously a second before falling forward, slowly and surely, like a tree falling in a forest. She gasped and grabbed hold of the nearest thing to her for balance—which just so happened to be the third child himself. With he in her body and she in his, it took little for Asuka's weight to overcome Shinji's, and the pair fell to the floor, tangled up in one another's arms, Asuka atop Shinji, pinning him rather suggestively to the ground. The two groaned as they came to their senses, then both gasped sharply as they realized the physical predicament they were currently involved in.
"I… I'm s-sorry!" was all the third child could form into words, turning his head to the right and staring off bashfully into nothingness. It was perhaps one of the most bizarre experiences Shinji Ikari had ever endured. With his small, slender wrists bound by larger, stronger hands and his petite and lithe body pinned helplessly to the floor, he felt a queer sort of panic and anxiety that might have been overwhelmingly titillating were it not for the fact that, essentially, he was being bound by a mirror image of himself. Or rather, how he'd used to be. His ears and cheeks burned with the ripe pink hues of humiliation and submission.
"Wh… what… y… y-you pervert!" Asuka screamed.
"Um… I know this may not be the best time to interject," Major Katsuragi beamed impishly, her eyes sparkling with lurid intentions, "however, uh… Asuka… your gown's come untied, and… tee hee… well… I can see Shinji's pecker*. Hah!"
The second child's eyes followed Misato's gaze in pure, abject, mortification. Only then had she realized that during the scuffle, the ties along the side of her hospital gown had become unfastened and tangled in the electrode wires, the garment itself twisted in such a way that half of Shinji's buttocks and the entirety of his genitals were clearly visible in her current position. Her gaze flitted back horrified to the ever-grinning Misato who pretended to cover her eyes with strategically spaced fingers. The scream that ensued was nearly felt twenty floors below to the Evangelion Cages.
Dr. Ritsuko Akagi's grim eyes remained fixed upon Unit-01 as it soaked in its usual bath of replenishing LCL. The behemoth machine, which under normal circumstances was perpetually prone to producing an orchestra of groaning metal and hissing hydraulics, remained irritatingly quiet and subdued. As though the Evangelion itself had gone dormant since Asuka's brush with death during the Leliel incident. The internal noises of the machine's autonomous processes were typically relaxing to the scientist, and she felt on-edge without them. The chief of Project E scowled, turning her back to the machine and folding her arms across her chest.
"I still don't like the idea of trying to reconfigure an Evangelion for a pilot we know very little about, senpai," said data analyst Ibuki. "I mean, given all that's happened recently… I mean… can we really be sure something disastrous won't happen again?"
Ritsuko shrugged, running her fingers through her bangs, wearily brushing them out of her eyes. "It's the Commander's show. If he's fine with letting SEELE's little pet sit behind the wheel for a bit, then there's definitely nothing to worry about. He wouldn't put this operation at risk just to appease a few old men. And, of course, there's still Rei."
"True," Maya sighed. "I just feel bad for the pilots themselves, I guess."
Doctor Akagi shot an icy stare at the other's direction.
"The pilots aren't what's at stake here. The continuity of the project is of paramount importance. Each of the children was fully informed of the risks inherent in their service with NERV. And, as you've seen today, if something happens to any of them, they can be swiftly replaced."
"Y-yes, senpai! But what you're saying is that everybody's expendable—even the EVA pilots themselves, right?"
"Yes," sounded the austere, authoritative voice of the senior Ikari. Ritsuko and her cadre of programmers each spun around at their respective stations, shocked to find the commander presently behind them. They each managed an awkward salute to their boss except Ritsuko whose expression was something between anger and desire. "Everything and everyone is expendable. We are all insignificant when the curtain finally rises on the final act of mankind's role as a supporting character in this giant cosmic play of ours. To move forward, there can be no room for ego, only purpose."
"Isn't it somewhat ironic for you to say that?" Ritsuko muttered darkly. "And where have you been all this time anyway?"
Gendo Ikari adjusted his spectacles firmly upon the bridge of his nose. "Everyone out. Now."
It took a moment for the words to sink in, but all it took was a subtle click of his tongue against the backs of his teeth to send everyone but Ritsuko Akagi scurrying obediently out of the room.
"What do you think you're doing?" the Commander of NERV asked once the last of the data analysts had vacated the premises.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"We've known each other since you were barely more than a child, and yet you continuously dishonor me with such incredibly discourteous, intellectual disrespect. You know that all outgoing transmissions from this facility are monitored, cataloged and recorded."
At once, Ritsuko realized what the senior Ikari was getting at, and she knew there was no point in deny it.
"Of course I called him," she replied indignantly, blushing slightly. "Y… you've been ignoring me and I needed answers."
Gendo took three measured strides, closing the distance between the two. Dr. Akagi tried her best to maintain her composure despite the incredible shakiness she now felt in her knees. In an act quizzically out of character, the Commander reached forward and straightened the collar of the woman's lab coat with his gloved hands. "While it is true," he began, "that you are a remarkably better fuck than your mother was, that fact alone does not earn you the privilege of occupying my precious time with your insipidly human needs and desires."
The scientist's jaw dropped wordlessly and hung there for several long moments before the woman attempted to salvage what little dignity the Commander had left her with by slapping him across the face. Effortlessly, the senior Ikari caught her hand in midflight, smirking nigh-imperceptibly as he did so. Using his off-hand, Gendo deftly wrapped his fingers around the woman's throat, tightening his grip as to be markedly uncomfortable but not asphyxiating. This brought even duskier shades of red to the woman's cheeks.
"So this is why you've made such little progress on the issue of our pilots," the Commander mused. "It seems even I did not realize how utterly disposable and useless a woman becomes when she wants nothing more than to be abused and controlled."
"Sh…shut up…" Dr. Akagi whispered through clenched teeth.
"Am I wrong? I read Fuyutsuki's report. It sounds suspiciously like you've given up trying to reproduce the exact conditions present when the A.T. fields caused the souls of our pilots to fall out of synch. And that doesn't sound very much like the Ritsuko Akagi I hired."
"It… it's not possible t-to… generate two identical but inverse A.T. fields… n-not… not enough p-power…"
Gendo released his grip on the woman's fragile neck. Akagi nearly doubled over, grasping at her neckline as her lungs filled with the air they had previously been deprived of. "That's not the real issue, is it, Dr. Akagi? You of all people know that when it comes to resources, there is very little I can't accomplish."
Once she'd caught her breath, Ritsuko straightened her posture once more, her eyes still cast floorward with both shame and submission. "Well… even if we were… theoretically…able to requisition enough power and were somehow able to artificially generate both reflexive A.T. fields… which would also require precision targeting and quantum-level calculations meaning we'd have to completely re-task the MAGI and disable their metaphysical and cyber-warfare suites for the duration… the pilots themselves…"
"…might not survive a second transition," Gendo finished.
Ritsuko nodded silently, pressing her own body lightly against Gendo's own torso. "Even if the pilots survived such an energy concentration physically… there's really no way to know whether or not their psyches could handle a second transition."
"I see. And you're worried whether they would survive the test or not."
"Yes."
Gendo fixed his spectacles once more before peeling the woman away from him and pushing her backward a step so that there was again space between them. "I find your emotional attachment and vulnerability utterly distasteful," he said at length before turning and walking back the way he came. "You will continue the research as planned. You will produce results this time."
"He's your own son," the other seethed. "Your only son. Don't you even care about that?"
Gendo paused just before the doorway. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous," he replied coldly, a statement that didn't entirely answer the question but certainly ended the conversation.
"Y… you bastard," Ritsuko whispered. She turned once more to stare at the purple metallic colossus before her, gaping at it for several long moments before twitching her brow with irritation. "You're not even really human, and he needs you more than he needs me. Am I… truly… that useless?"
*In Japanese, the word I intended Misato to use here would be ochinchin (おちんちん/陰茎) which is a cutesy way to say penis in Japanese in the same way that, in English, a parent might say peepee to a young child. I decided to make the English translation pecker because it seemed to fit the best with Misato's very colloquial and tease-happy character, however after more than 10 years in the world of anime and manga as well as having lived in Japan and studied both the culture and the some of the language, I find that even though I am writing in English, I oftentimes write the English with a Japanese mind (or at the very least, emulation of how Japanese narratives are written). I apologize for this long and confusing note. Thank you for reading it.