Hello there, I just wanna say thank you for choosing this fic to read, I really appreciate you taking your time to so much as look at what I wrote. Thank you.
Now most, if not all of these spin-off characters come from The Shinji Ikari Raising Project (Manga and Videogame, and Iron Maiden to, along with other spin-offs) I don't do OC's. You don't have to read or play the material to understand this fic it's just in case you're not sure how a character or machine looks, you can quickly look it up.
But anyway, let's get to it.
I've gone back and reworked this fanfic, thank to AuthorOfIntent for helping me at first, also thanks to comments and critiques from Lebeauf and engel17White...you guys really helped me out.
BEGIN.
Breathe in...breathe out
The neon ignition and vibrant lights came alive, signalling the activation of the mechanical heartbeat.
"Diagnostics running." ; "Operating system functional." ; "Limb-linkage successful."
Within the Mecha's cockpit – dubbed the entry plug - sat the pilot, Mana Kirishima.
"Initiate the activation sequence." a voice instructed.
Red lights flickered inside the plug, soon overtaken by shimmering blues and finally transforming into pure fluorescent whites. Outside, the Mecha's lights illuminated, and its limbs began to stir.
"Alright, today the J.S.D.F and U.N will be observing you." A voice spoke through the communications system. "Show em the fruits of our labour."
Mana propelled the Mecha forward, triggering the activation of the back thrusters, causing the legs to fold. The thunderous crackling roar of hot exhaust mixed with cooler air reverberated throughout the station and launchpad.
"T•RIDEN•T Land Cruiser, LAUNCH!" With unwavering determination, she pushed the gears forward, and the mech glided through a tunnel, greeted by strobe lights as it emerged out into the open. Mana felt a slight tremor, aware that the military commanders were watching. Despite her nerves, she persisted, pushing the Mecha to the point of breaking the sound barrier.
"What is the pilot's condition?"
"She remains stable, although her heart rate has increased. It is likely she will take damage but it will be minimal."
"Mana, can you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am," she responded promptly. "Prepare to take the T•RIDEN•T underwater. We are gearing up for a naval and aquatic battle." Following orders, Mana adjusted the gears and activated the naval system, causing the Land Cruiser to submerge itself into the water, leaving behind a trail of glistening particles.
"Now, attack!" She activated the weapons system, illuminating the submerged landmines through her visor. With a press of a button, the Land Cruiser unleashed its firepower, hitting all the designated targets as Mana swiftly maneuvered across them. An aquatic submarine fired at her, but she narrowly evaded the attack.
"What is this? what's going on? That wasn't part of the simulation!"
"The J.S.D.F wanted to ensure that she was prepared for all possible situations."
"They could have killed her, damn it," she muttered under her breath.
The submarines unleashed a volley of fire simultaneously, leaving Mana with little room to dodge. She bravely attempted to evade as many projectiles as possible, but some managed to land, causing her body to tremble. Determined and resolute, she shook her head to regain her focus.
"Alright," she grunted, mustering her strength. "Let's go." With precision, she targeted both the mines and submarines, unleashing a torrent of ranged firepower at the mines while engaging the submarines in close combat, employing the T•RIDEN•T's powerful limbs to take them down.
"She's pushing herself and the Land Cruiser," Kaede remarked, acknowledging the strain on Mana.
"They're not exactly giving her a choice," Satsuki replied, a tinge of frustration in her voice.
"Are those all of them?" Mana asked, her breathing heavy.
"No, there are more," Aoi responded, indicating the presence of additional threats on her radar.
To her surprise, seven more submarines emerged from behind.
"What in the world is going on?" Satsuki exclaimed, disbelief evident in her tone.
"They're testing her," Kaede stated with contempt.
This time, the submarines executed a synchronized clockwise rotation, launching attacks from different angles, disorienting Mana and making it challenging for her to defend herself.
"Tell them to stop or she'll sink!" Satsuki shouted at her commander-in-chief, who silently observed the intense trial.
"Dammit!" Satsuki yelled, frustration taking hold as she looked at the screen. Mana paused briefly to catch her breath, while the T•RIDEN•T continued its descent into the depths.
"Is it over?" Aoi cautiously inquired.
"No," the commander replied firmly. "Give her a chance."
Mana took a moment to steady herself, focusing on her breathing.
Despite enduring some damage, the T•RIDEN•T stood strong, refusing to be toppled. Mana reignited the neon engines, reactivating the systems with determination in her eyes. Looking upward, she noticed the presence of the remaining submarines. Calculating her moves, she targeted all possible threats from beneath, firing her remaining torpedoes as she ascended. Emerging from the water in a graceful motion, the T•RIDEN•T left behind a trail of misty fumes, soaring into the open air.
"That's my girl!" Satsuki exclaimed proudly.
The thunderous roar of jet engines filled the sky, indicating that the battle was far from over. Mana gathered herself once more, taking deep breaths as she prepared for what lay ahead.
"Come on, Mana. You can do this," Satsuki encouraged her unwaveringly.
Meanwhile, Mana struggled to catch her breath, panting heavily. "The pilot's status is critical," Aoi expressed with concern.
"The T•RIDEN•T has sustained significant damage. It can't continue on like this," Kaede added, emphasizing the need for caution.
minimal damage huh? Satsuki scoffed
"Not yet," the commander declared confidently. "She can still overcome this."
Mana turned her gaze, gliding backward while manually engaging the incoming fighter jets. She managed to bring down a few adversaries, but the remaining jets retaliated, bombarding the T•RIDEN•T with their missiles.
"Come on," Mana grunted, pushing herself beyond her limits. "Just a few more," she repeated to herself, firing relentlessly. However, her ammunition eventually ran out, leaving two—no, three fighter jets circling around her.
"Damn it!" she exclaimed, refusing to back down. Without redirecting her thrusters,
she charged forward, determined to face the challenge head-on.
"What is she doing?" Aoi asked, concern evident in her voice. "She's being reckless," Kaede frustratingly expressed.
Mana fearlessly charged headlong, colliding with the fighter jets, expertly maneuvering around them, tirelessly pursuing each one until they were all vanquished. The T•RIDEN•T then descended into the waters, floating serenely on the surface as Mana summoned her last ounce of strength to maintain its balance. Exhausted, she slumped in the entry plug, drained by the intense battle.
"The T•RIDEN•T wasn't designed for high altitudes," Kaede angrily reiterated.
"And the extent of damage she sustained surpasses our initial calculations," Aoi added, the weight of the situation evident in her words.
"That's going to have consequences," Satsuki sighed, recognizing the implications. "Pull her back and return to the launch area."
Once their mission was accomplished and the JSDF, accompanied by the U.N., had witnessed everything they had come to see, the Trident was carefully maneuvered back into the tunnel, and the towering Mech landed gracefully on the launchpad.
With a sense of urgency, they swiftly extracted Mana from the entry plug, her motionless, pale form resembling that of a lifeless doll. Alarmed by her condition, they wasted no time in rushing her to the hospital, urgency evident in their every move.
Meanwhile, Satsuki, Kaede, and Aoi gathered in a private meeting with their commander in chief. The room buzzed with tension as they exchanged concerned glances.
"Sir, she barely made it out of there alive. Were you intentionally putting our pilot's life at stake?" Satsuki's voice carried a mix of anger and disbelief, her frustration palpable in the air.
The commander in chief met her gaze with a stoic expression, his eyes revealing the weight of his responsibilities. "Watch your tone, Colonel," He retorted firmly. "Pilot Kirishima is just one among many. Sacrifices must be made."
Aoi interjected, her voice laced with conviction. "But sir, she possesses unparalleled expertise. Years of rigorous training and experience have shaped her into the irreplaceable asset she is today. We cannot simply discard her like a disposable tool."
The commander in chief considered their words, his brows furrowing in contemplation. "What about Keita and Musashi Lee?" he inquired, seeking an alternative.
"They lack the efficiency and sheer talent displayed by Kirishima Mana," Aoi responded, her voice unwavering. "She is truly exceptional, sir."
Understanding their concerns, the commander sighed, his frustration evident. "I acknowledge the risks involved," he admitted. "However, the J.S.D.F and U.N. demand swift results. Time is a luxury we cannot afford."
Kaede, her voice filled with desperation, pleaded, "Sir, sacrificing our pilot will not expedite the process. We implore you to negotiate for more time."
The room fell into a tense silence as the commander clenched his fist, battling the weight of his decision. "I will discuss the matter with them," he finally conceded. "But be aware, our focus is shifting towards the human articulation system. It is a necessary step, regardless of the challenges it presents."
Satsuki frowned, struggling to contain her concerns. "Sir, we are barely managing with the T•RIDEN•T's mechanical engine system. Transitioning to nerve links and connections requires significant time and resources-"
His gaze unwavering, the commander interrupted her, his tone resolute. "I understand the difficulties, Colonel. I realize the burden I am placing upon all of you. But our current path is no longer viable, and the risks extend beyond the pilot. I have already informed Koji Katori and Mitsuru Watatake about the impending changes."
Kaede was about to interject once more, her lips parting with words left unsaid, but the commander's stern gaze silenced her. "You don't have to like each other," he stated firmly. "You just have to work together. That is the only expectation I have."
Reluctantly, the trio nodded in agreement, their reservations evident in their eyes. "Yes, sir," they replied in unison, their voices tinged with reluctance.
"Very well. You are dismissed," the commander said, rising from his chair and exiting the room, leaving behind an atmosphere thick with apprehension.
As they filed out of the command centre, making their way toward their respective offices, they encountered a peculiar brunette dressed in a pink jacket and black trousers.
"Interesting...machine, you're working on here." The brunette said
Curiosity piqued, Satsuki couldn't help but inquire "And who are you?"
With an air of enigmatic confidence, the stranger introduced herself, "Mari. Mari illustrious Makinami." She extended her hand, a warm smile gracing her lips. One by one, they exchanged handshakes, a brief connection in this moment of intrigue.
Aoi, ever inquisitive, probed further, "Are you new here? What department do you hail from?"
Chuckling lightly, Mari's response held a hint of mystery, "Don't you worry about that. Although, I have a feeling our paths will cross frequently from now on." Her words hung in the air as she resumed her stride, eyes still avidly scanning the contents of the file.
Perplexed by the encounter, the trio watched as Mari faded into the distance, a lingering sense of peculiarity lingering in the air.
"That woman was... strange," Satsuki finally voiced her bewilderment.
Kaede nodded in agreement, a bemused expression etching her features. "Yeah, definitely... strange."
Leaving the encounter behind, they resumed their journey to their respective offices, their thoughts tinged with intrigue and a touch of uncertainty about the enigmatic Mari and her role in their future endeavours.
The alarm clock pierced through the silence at precisely 5:00 am, abruptly jolting Shinji Ikari from his peaceful slumber. With a surge of adrenaline, he leaped out of bed, his heart pounding in synchrony with the blaring sound. The urgency of the morning embraced him, pushing him into a whirlwind of activity.
In a blur of motion, Shinji propelled himself into the day. Time was of the essence, and he wasted none of it. Amidst the racing beat of his pulse, he devoured his breakfast, relishing each bite as if fuelling his very soul. The shower offered a brief respite, the cascading water invigorating his senses and washing away any remnants of drowsiness. With swift strokes of his toothbrush, he scrubbed away any lingering fatigue, a symbol of readiness for the challenges that lay ahead.
The suit, meticulously prepared the night before, awaited his touch. As he slipped into its embrace, a transformation occurred. The fabric melded to his frame, conferring a sense of purpose and professionalism. Every button fastened, every crease smoothed, he emerged a transformed individual—a man poised to conquer the world.
With a swift stride, Shinji ventured out into the waking world. The city, still drenched in the soft hues of dawn, pulsed with the energy of a new day. The streets, usually teeming with life, were slowly stirring, and Shinji became a part of this rhythm. His footsteps echoed with purpose, each one propelling him closer to his destination—the concert hall that held both his dreams and responsibilities.
As the clock neared 6:00 am, Shinji stepped through the grand entrance of the hall, greeted by the melodic hum of anticipation. The air crackled with the collective dedication of the musicians, their instruments resonating in harmony. The orchestra, a symphony of talent and passion, awaited his presence. This was his stage, his canvas, where he would pour his heart and soul into his art.
Hours stretched before him—a canvas waiting to be painted. With each note played, each chord mastered, the intensity mounted. The symphony enveloped him, sweeping him away into a world of melodic fervour. Time blurred, boundaries faded, and Shinji found solace in the crescendos and decrescendos that swirled around him.
The morning unfolded with relentless intensity. The hours flew by in a frenetic dance of practice, rehearsal, and honing his craft. The sheer devotion etched onto his face, his fingers danced across the instrument, each movement a testament to years of discipline and dedication.
In this ceaseless rhythm, Shinji found purpose. The music, an extension of his being, coursed through his veins, filling every fibre of his being. The morning routine, a frenzy of action and passion, propelled him towards the heights of his artistry.
And amidst the whirlwind of his routine, Shinji felt alive. The rush of the morning, the symphony of existence, became a symphony of his own making.
But on this particular Monday, a rare day off - graced Shinji's schedule. Having concluded his dedicated practice and rehearsals, he found himself in a moment of respite, sinking into the comfort of his couch, his attention captivated by the glow of the television screen. The tranquillity was broken as Mari, a presence from his past, emerged from her slumber and stepped into the room, stirring a mix of emotions within him.
"Morning," Shinji murmured, his voice carrying a husky undertone.
"Good morning," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of sleepiness. "You're up early. Did you finish practicing?" Her gaze lingered on him, admiring the tousled strands of his hair.
He nodded, a satisfied grin stretching across his face as he savoured his breakfast. "Yep, all done. I'll be conducting in just a year's time."
"How sweet," she cooed, her arms encircling his waist from behind. The warmth of her body pressed against his back, their connection a tantalizing blend of comfort and desire.
His hands instinctively found hers, holding them firmly, relishing in the sensation of her touch. Eventually, she released her hold and gracefully glided toward the kitchen, her movements a mesmerizing dance that captivated his attention.
As she settled down next to him, their bodies close but not touching, she leaned in, her voice low and seductive. "Have you heard about the T•RIDEN•T Land Cruiser?" Her lips brushed against his ear, sending shivers cascading down his spine.
His focus shifted, his gaze meeting hers, their eyes locked in an intimate exchange. "The government's Mech, right?" he responded, his voice filled with intrigue.
"Yes," she confirmed, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "What do you make of it?"
A contemplative expression settled on his face as he pondered the question. "Honestly, I don't think they'll get it to work," he admitted, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Our past was rooted in the intricacies of the human body, the essence of human articulation. And now, with the absence of Adams and Lilith, it seems unlikely."
A nod of agreement passed between them, their shared knowledge forging a connection that transcended words. "It's almost as if it was all just a distant dream," he mused, his gaze searching hers for affirmation.
She chuckled softly, a melodic sound that resonated with affection. "Remembering two timelines is a rare gift," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "But I must admit, these past five years with you have been extraordinary."
His smile deepened, radiating genuine joy. "I feel the same way," he confessed, leaning into her touch as she nestled against his shoulder. Together, they basked in the warmth of their shared memories, a testament to the bond they had forged amidst the complexities of their intertwined destinies.
They sat there in comfortable silence, their attention half-heartedly focused on the television screen. The ambient glow illuminated their features, casting soft shadows that danced across the room. Minutes turned into moments, and the weight of anticipation hung in the air.
Breaking the tranquil stillness, Mari's voice pierced through the quietude. "I still think you should come with me tomorrow," she proposed, her eyes sparkling with an irresistible invitation. With a graceful gesture, she extended a small piece of paper, an entrance ticket that held promises of wonder and excitement.
Shinji's eyebrows lifted in curiosity as he accepted the ticket, his gaze fixated on Mari. "They're treating it like some sort of show?" he inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.
A mischievous smile played on Mari's lips as she leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper. "It's like witnessing the moon landing," she explained, her eyes shining with fervour. "To them, it's not merely a weapon, but a ground-breaking research tool."
A flicker of doubt crossed Shinji's expression as he contemplated the hidden truth veiled behind their elaborate facade. "But what is the truth?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I believe you and I both know... along with the conspiracy nuts."
A gentle laughter escaped from his lips, the sound a symphony of familiarity between them. "Fine," he relented, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "I'll come and see, but I'm willing to bet that it's not going to work."
Mari responded with a playful roll of her eyes, her lips curving into a tender smile. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, the warmth of her touch leaving a lingering trail of desire. "Yeah, yeah," she murmured, her voice a tender caress against his skin, an unspoken promise of their shared adventure.
In that fleeting moment, as their lips brushed and their hearts intertwined, the world outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating allure of their connection. Time stood still as their souls danced in harmony, embracing the romantic and sensual essence of their shared journey.
On his much-anticipated day off, Shinji found himself drawn to witness the grand launch and test piloting of the T•RIDEN•T Land Cruiser. As he observed the impressive display before him, a sense of doubt crept into his mind. The safety of the machine seemed questionable, and the potential costs of repairing any flaws appeared exorbitant. Shinji's conviction grew stronger, solidifying his belief that this ambitious project was destined for failure.
Voicing his thoughts aloud, he muttered, "Yeah, this thing's definitely not going to work."
To his surprise, a voice responded to his proclamation. Turning around, he discovered the source of the inquiry to be none other than Asuka.
Shock and awe coursed through him, for he hadn't expected to see her there. Questions flooded his mind: Why was she here? Was she still the same Asuka he remembered?
"Asuka?" he said, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. He studied her carefully, trying to discern any changes in her appearance or demeanour. The weight of their shared history loomed heavily in his thoughts, as he wondered what had brought her to this moment.
She stood before him, her presence commanding and her eyes holding a flicker of determination. It was the same Asuka, yet something seemed different.
"Have we met?" she asked, her gaze fixed upon him.
Asuka's question lingered in the air, its weight pressing against the fragile barrier of Shinji's memory. Had they met before? It seemed like an absurd notion, considering the tangled web of their intertwined lives. And yet, as he gazed into her eyes, uncertainty took hold, casting shadows upon their shared history.
Gathering his scattered thoughts, Shinji mustered the courage to reintroduce himself, extending his hand toward her. "Hi... my name is Shinji, Shinji Ikari." he stated, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
Accepting his handshake, Asuka's eyes flickered with curiosity, the absence of her surname beckoning a silent question within Shinji. It was a reminder of the fragments that remained, the shattered remnants of their previous existence.
"It's nice to meet you, Asuka," Shinji responded, his voice resonating with a mix of sincerity and disbelief. The reality of her presence still seemed surreal, as if he were trapped within a lingering dream. Asuka raised an eyebrow, her expression a blend of concern and a hint of bewilderment. "Are you okay?" she inquired, her voice carrying genuine worry and a touch of skepticism.
"Yes," he answered, his voice quivering ever so slightly. "Yes..." The word trailed off, hanging in the air, laden with uncertainty. Asuka's return had unleashed a torrent of thoughts and emotions within him, a tempest that threatened to consume his fragile composure. Yet, he steeled himself, determined to navigate the complexities of their reunion.
In silence, they stood side by side, their gazes fixed upon the testing of the Trident Lancer. The machine surged forward with purpose. For Shinji, the sight of it evoked a whirlwind of memories, reminding him of the immense weight they had carried and the scars he still bore.
Inquisitive about Shinji's connection to the project, Asuka probed,
"So, who do you work for?"
Shinji chuckled, amused by the contrast between his humble occupation and the extraordinary event they were witnessing. "Actually, a friend of mine works here," He confessed. "I'm little more than a musician in the orchestra, really."
Asuka raised an eyebrow, her curiosity unabated. "Well, Mr. Musician, I don't know why your friend granted you S-Class clearance or how you managed to bypass security, but mark my words, this T•RIDEN•T Land Cruiser is only the beginning."
Perplexed by her cryptic statement, Shinji pressed for clarification. "What do you mean?" he inquired.
A hint of reservation coloured Asuka's response. "Nothing a civilian needs to know." she said, maintaining a guarded stance.
Disappointed yet accepting, Shinji shrugged, his words tinged with a hint of resignation. "Oh well, that's unfortunate," he sighed. "Guess it just can't be helped."
As the Land Cruiser demonstrated its capabilities with relative success, Shinji and Asuka remained transfixed, their gazes fixed on the awe-inspiring display. Lost in their own thoughts, they were interrupted by the arrival of Mari, who approached them from behind.
"Shinji," she called out, her voice infused with familiarity, "and hello to you too, princess."
Asuka's retort came swiftly, her words sharp yet playful. "Four-eyed crony," she quipped.
Observing their interaction, Shinji marvelled at the brief encounter between the two intriguing women. Breaking the silence, he asked, "So, you two have met?"
"Only briefly," Mari replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on, I've got something to show both of you."
Intrigued and eager for what lay ahead, Shinji and Asuka followed Mari, their curiosity piqued by the promise of a new revelation awaiting them.
Mana stirred from her slumber, her senses gradually awakening to the sterile surroundings of the specialized hospital ward. Casting her gaze around the room, she noted the absence of any company. Resigned, she settled back onto the bed, preparing herself for whatever might come her way.
After a brief passage of time, Musashi Lee Strasberg entered the room, his presence signaling a welcome interruption to her solitude. Observing her wakefulness, he greeted her with genuine concern.
"Hey, Mana, you okay?" he inquired, his tone filled with genuine care.
Mana mustered a weak smile, her voice laden with weariness. "Well, I feel like a rag doll dragged across the ocean air and open skies, so..."
Musashi's expression softened, remorse washing over him. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "You always get the worst of it."
"It's okay," she reassured him, her words laced with resilience. "It's all part of the job."
"They don't pay you enough for it, though," he remarked, a hint of frustration slipping into his words.
Mana nodded in agreement, her eyes closing as if to shut out the weight of their circumstances. "I know, but it's just one more year, and then we can go back home."
Musashi sighed, a mix of longing and weariness in his voice. "Yeah, one more year."
In the midst of their conversation, the door swung open, and Satsuki entered the room with an air of urgency.
"Mana, I'm really sorry to have to do this to you, but we need you downstairs now," Satsuki explained, a sense of reluctance accompanying her words.
Mana's eyes flickered open, a determined resolve replacing her momentary reprieve. "Yeah, I know," she acknowledged, readying herself for the task ahead.
Guided by Satsuki, Mana rose from the bed, her injured limb and arm encased in a cast. Supporting herself with the aid of crutches, she followed Satsuki to an underground construction site, where a peculiar kind of Mech loomed before her. Suspended by numerous umbilical towers and cranes, the humanoid machine exuded an air of mystery.
Curiosity piqued, Mana turned to Satsuki, seeking answers. "What is it?" she inquired, her voice laced with intrigue.
Satsuki met her gaze, her voice carrying a hint of both wonder and frustration. "Artificial Human," she divulged. "It's a new type of Mecha design, based on human anatomy. However, we haven't been able to make it function properly."
Mana absorbed the information, her mind racing with questions. "How long have you all been working on this?" she probed, seeking to understand the extent of their endeavor.
Satsuki scoffed, a mix of resentment and realization coloring her tone. "Apparently, they've been building this in secret for quite some time now," she revealed. "I guess I know why we've been lacking in funds lately."
Faced with the enormity of the situation, Mana's thoughts turned inward. "And so what?" she queried, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. "You want me to pilot it?"
"We want you to try," Satsuki responded, her voice carrying a hint of urgency.
Mana's brows furrowed, her eyes searching Satsuki's face for a hint of choice. "Do I even get a choice?" she questioned, her tone tinged with resignation.
But Satsuki remained silent, leaving Mana with a sinking feeling. "I'll take that as a 'no'," she muttered, her disappointment palpable.
Meanwhile...
Mari had guided Shinji and Asuka to the site, their eyes drawn to the colossal Mech before them. Just as Shinji began to voice his question, Mari interjected, cutting off his words.
"No, it isn't," Mari chuckled, shaking her head. "Not by a long shot. But it's similar."
Confusion etched across Asuka's face as she sought clarification. "Similar to what?" she pressed, her curiosity piqued.
Mari's response was cryptic, yet revealing. "Evangelion," she declared, the word hanging in the air.
Shinji acknowledged the visual similarities, but there was an undeniable difference that set it apart from an Eva. "There are some resemblances," he admitted, his words measured. "But it doesn't feel like an Eva."
Frustration laced Asuka's voice as she probed further. "What are you two talking about?" she demanded, her gaze shifting between Mari and Shinji.
Mari brushed off the inquiry, her tone casual. "Don't worry about it, princess. It's not important," she deflected, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.
Asuka's intuition didn't waver as she confronted them. "I get the sense that you two are lying to me," she accused, her voice laced with suspicion.
Shinji attempted to interject, his desire for honesty prevailing. "We're not really," he started, his words trailing off as his attention was drawn to two women on one of the platforms, their gazes fixed upon the towering Mech.
Shinji's curiosity got the better of him as he turned to Mari for answers. "Who are they?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on the figures on the platform.
Asuka, ever quick to respond, took the opportunity to speak on Mari's behalf. "Probably the pilot and the colonel," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of certainty.
A mix of shock and concern washed over Shinji's face as he processed the situation. "They're gonna let her pilot it?" he questioned, a tinge of disbelief lacing his words.
Asuka's response held a hint of resignation. "Probably," she affirmed once more, her tone conveying that it was beyond their control.
"But she's not well," Shinji protested, his concern for the pilot evident. "In that state?"
Asuka's voice grew stern, a touch of irritation surfacing. "It's none of our business, Shinji," she declared, dismissing his worries.
Determined to help, Shinji refused to back down. "No, we've got to help her," he insisted, his resolve unwavering.
"What are you, stupid?" Asuka retorted sharply, attempting to pull him back. "We have no jurisdiction here. They'd only-" Her words fell on deaf ears as Shinji broke free from her grasp and approached the landing platform.
"Hey! Don't let her get in that thing!" he shouted at Satsuki from a distance, his voice filled with urgency and desperation. Asuka tried to intervene, but Mari intervened, her hand halting her.
"Let him do this," Mari advised calmly, her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.
Caught off guard by Shinji's determination, Satsuki found herself at a loss for words as he drew nearer, stepping onto the landing platform. Uncertainty clouded her expression as she finally spoke.
"Excuse me?" she began.
"I said, don't let her get into that thing." Shinji repeated, a statement which Satsuki took as a threat.
"And who are you?" she asked, her astonishment evident as she watched Shinji standing there, unfettered by any attempts to stop him from reaching this elevated space. The audacity of his intrusion left her bewildered, wondering how he had managed to bypass the usual security measures.
"He's with me," Kaworu declared, emerging from the shadows. His authoritative presence halted any further inquiries, assuring her that he had everything under control.
"Oh... Commander Nagisa, I..." she began, only to be interrupted by Kaworu's intervention.
"It's okay, Satsuki," he interjected, his voice soothing yet firm. "Make sure the pilot gets some rest. I'll take care of Shinji, my friend."
"Yes, sir," Satsuki acknowledged, her compliance swift as she escorted Mana away.
Left alone, Shinji and Kaworu stood face to face, their eyes locked in a moment of recognition. A familiar smile graced Kaworu's features, the enigmatic aura that always seemed to surround him shining through.
"Shinji Ikari," Kaworu greeted him with genuine enthusiasm. "It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"
"Yeah, Kaworu," Shinji replied, reaching out to shake his hand. The warmth of their connection brought back memories of their past encounters. "How have you been?"
"I'm doing well nowadays," Kaworu responded, his voice filled with a sense of contentment. "Thank you, sincerely. Perhaps we should continue this conversation outside?"
"Sure," Shinji agreed, his curiosity piqued. As they prepared to leave the current space, a lingering concern crossed his mind. "What about Asuka and Mari?"
"They will be fine," Kaworu reassured him. "As a matter of fact, I am currently collaborating with Mari here."
"Wow, that's impressive," Shinji remarked, his admiration for Mari's abilities evident. With a mixture of anticipation and intrigue, he followed Kaworu outside, eager to delve into the forthcoming discussion.
Kaworu's words carried a sense of reassurance, bolstering Shinji's wavering confidence. "Don't worry, Shinji," he began, his voice calm yet firm. "Evangelion is over. You'll never see another one of those things again."
The lingering uncertainty prompted Shinji to seek clarity. "Then what kind of mech are they building down there?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Kaworu's response aimed to differentiate the two concepts. "It's more of a pseudo mech imitating a human," he explained, his tone carrying a hint of knowledge.
Confusion clouded Shinji's mind, prompting him to seek further understanding. "But isn't that what Evangelion was?" he questioned, hoping for a clearer distinction.
A small smile played on Kaworu's lips as he provided a concise answer. "No, that was a pseudo-human imitating a mech," he clarified, his words carrying a sense of finality.
Though the explanation left Shinji somewhat bewildered, he chose to accept it, acknowledging the complexity of their past experiences. "Whatever you say, Kaworu," he conceded, a mix of relief and gratitude seeping into his voice. "I'm just glad they're gone for good."
Kaworu's response held a note of agreement. "Yes, it would be unfortunate if all your efforts were thrown into the bin," he concurred, acknowledging the significance of Shinji's past struggles.
Curiosity lingering, Shinji seized the opportunity to inquire further. "So why are you here?" he asked, his eyes searching for answers.
Kaworu's gaze met Shinji's, his expression filled with purpose. "I actually came here to shut this operation down," he revealed, his voice resolute. "I'm only one of many commanders. We're not specifically part of one organization."
As the pieces started to fall into place, Shinji's thoughts turned to Mari and her involvement. "And that's why Mari is working with you?" he probed, seeking confirmation.
Kaworu's response was accompanied by a nod of affirmation. "Yes, she works under me. I've only recently started to understand all of this myself," he admitted, a trace of contemplation in his voice.
Concern crept into Shinji's voice as he voiced his fears. "But they're not planning to do something bad, are they?" he asked, his worry etched on his face.
Kaworu's answer came with a touch of weariness. "No, it's just greedy old men with far too much power," he replied, his words tinged with a hint of disappointment. "You know, I would appreciate it if we could get your help too. After all, we might need all the hands we can get."
A moment of contemplation ensued as Shinji weighed his options, his gaze drifting towards his own path. "No, I'm..." he began, his voice trailing off. "I've got a career to think about. I'd rather not get into the military stuff once again."
Understanding and respect colored Kaworu's response. "And that would be fine as well," he acknowledged, his tone gentle. "But the offer is still on the table should you want it."
Gratitude welled up within Shinji as he accepted Kaworu's understanding. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with appreciation and a sense of relief.
As their conversation drew to a close, a sense of farewell filled the air. "Well, I should probably get going," she stated, her voice carrying a tinge of reluctance. "It's been nice talking to you, Shinji."
A flicker of enthusiasm sparked in Shinji's eyes as he responded, eager to maintain the connection they had forged. "Same here. We should definitely do this again sometime," he proposed, his words filled with genuine warmth.
A shared understanding passed between them, acknowledging the possibility of future encounters. "Indeed," he agreed, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Oh, and you should come see Rei sometime. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you," he suggested, extending an invitation to foster connections within their shared circle.
Later...
After spending some time waiting for Mari's arrival in the parking lot, Shinji found himself immersed in his own thoughts.
Suddenly, to his surprise, a strange figure approached him, It was Kirishima Mana.
"Oh, hello." Shinji greeted her, a sense of curiosity in his voice.
"Hi," Mana responded, her tone carrying a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. "I'm Mana Kirishima, the pilot of the T•RIDEN•T Land Cruiser."
Understanding her role now, Shinji nodded in acknowledgment. "I see," he said, his voice filled with a hint of empathy.
Mana mustered up the courage to express her gratitude. "I just wanted to say thanks for what you did for me back there...I appreciate it. I really do."
With a soft smile, Shinji reassured her, "Don't worry about it. You may not believe me, but I truly understand how it feels."
Surprised by his response, Mana sought confirmation. "Really?" she asked, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope.
Shinji's gaze shifted, his thoughts drifting to past experiences. "More than you could imagine," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of his own journey. "It's a really long story, but I wasn't going to let anyone else go through what I went through."
Touched by his words, Mana couldn't contain her emotions. With a surge of gratitude, she lunged forward, enveloping him in a heartfelt hug, despite her physical limitations. After a moment, Shinji gently helped her gather her crutches, and together they made their way back to the hospital ward.
Returning to the parking lot, Shinji was met by the presence of Asuka. Her tone carried a mixture of sarcasm and curiosity as she addressed him.
"Well, aren't you a real hero?" she quipped.
Slightly taken aback, Shinji fired back, "Why were you watching me?"
"Augh...Don't flatter yourself," she retorted. "Where do you live?"
Suspicion clouded Shinji's gaze as he replied, "That's a bit intrusive, don't you think?"
Frustration mingled with her genuine intentions, Asuka emphasized, "I'm trying to help you here. Your car is in for repairs, right?"
Realization dawned upon Shinji as he connected the dots. "Mari told you, I'm guessing?"
With a nod, Asuka confirmed his assumption. "Yes, so come on, let me take you home," she offered. Shinji's curiosity got the better of him as he inquired about Mari's whereabouts, but the answer was evident. "She's working today... duh," Asuka replied.
Appreciation coloured Shinji's response. "That's awfully kind of you, Asuka."
"Just get in," she commanded, her tone softened by his playful actions. "Mr. Ikari."
Bowing slightly in gratitude, Shinji responded, "My pleasure, Miss Shikinami." His attempt at familiarity hinted at a deeper connection, though he realized he may have been mistaken.
Curiosity flickered in Asuka's eyes as she questioned his knowledge. "Shikinami?" she repeated, suspicion lacing her voice.
Caught off guard, Shinji stumbled for an explanation. "Yeah, your surname, Asuka Langley Shikinami."
Perplexed, Asuka clarified, "I never told you my surname, and where in the hell did you get Shikinami from?"
Unsettled by her reaction, Shinji attempted to reconcile his error. "Well..."
"Soryu," Asuka responded, her tone slightly guarded. "It's Asuka Langley Soryu."
"Ah, okay," Shinji replied, accepting her correction as he climbed into the car. His mind buzzed with questions, pondering the significance of her actual surname—Soryu.
END.