A/N: First of all, thanks so much to everyone who's taken the time so far to read and review my demented rambling, I can't tell you how much it means to me! This chapter, like the last couple, will be pretty dialogue-heavy, which I enjoy writing and hopefully you folks enjoy reading. But I understand if it's not everyone's cup of tea, and the next chapter will hopefully get us back into some action.

Chapter 8: The Boxer

'Til he cried out

In his anger and his shame

"I am leaving, I am leaving"

But the fighter still remains.

-Paul Simon

Stepping through onto the catwalk over the workshop, Misato inhaled deeply and began to scan for her target. The smell of welding torches and oil was certainly a welcome change from the stuffy, stale air of the boardroom.

After endless discussions regarding everything from Eva readiness to battle tactics to vegetarian meals in the cafeteria, the future of the God's arrow program came up as the final item on the agenda at NERV's weekly senior staff meeting. Misato had suggested that the program's one and only pilot ought to lend his expertise to the discussion, and when there was no answer from his office phone, she volunteered to go fetch him personally. Any excuse to escape the mind-numbing tedium of these damn meetings.

She figured if he wasn't in his office, he'd probably be near his beloved jet, and sure enough through the sea of grey jumpsuits and white lab coats she spotted a flash of blue.

Descending a rickety set of stairs down to the workshop floor, she made her way over to the ancient aircraft, dodging a shower of sparks from the crew working to repair the damaged wing as she passed underneath. Reaching the fighter's rear end where she thought she'd spotted him, she instead found his uniform jacket, sitting neatly folded on a wheeled workbench. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

She approached a group of engineers studying a huge engine mounted on a trolley just behind the tail. Upon inquiring to them about the Major's location, one of the eggheads told her to look in the tailpipe.

Now thoroughly perplexed, she turned to find an empty tunnel where one of the engines would normally be. Standing on tip toes to see into it, she finally found the pilot crouched inside, chatting with a couple of mechanics as they worked on something about halfway down the tube. He had his back to her, so she cupped her hands and shouted to him, her voice echoing through the confined space.

"Good morning, Major!" she called. The man straightened up in surprise, and Misato winced as he smacked his head against the roof of the metal tunnel with a resounding clang.

Rubbing the back of his head, he turned and fixed her with an annoyed grimace. "Morning, Captain." he replied irritably.

Giving his head a shake, he turned and nodded goodbye to to his jump-suited companions as Misato waved him over. Crouch-walking his way out of the engine bay, he hopped down to the floor and took a few rigid steps.

"How's the leg?" she asked amiably, noting that he still had a slight limp in his step.

"Still a bit stiff, but it's getting better. I can get around without that damn cane, at least" he answered with a shrug, before eyeing her suspiciously.

"I don't suppose you came all the way down here just to ask about my leg..."

"Nope." No sense beating around the bush. "There's a meeting regarding the future of this project, your presence is requested."

"A meeting with who?"

"Pretty much all of the senior staff, including the Commander."

"Oh, the big cheese himself, eh? Sounds important. You could have just had me paged, y'know."

She shrugged. "Meh, I've been sitting in that room all damn morning, and I'm a touch hungover. I needed to get the hell out of there for a while."

The pair shared a laugh, before Misato gestured to his grimy hands. "Better get yourself cleaned up, there, grease monkey." She tossed him a clean rag from the pile on the workbench she was leaning against. The Major nodded as he caught the rag and began wiping his hands.

"Say, what are doing turning wrenches down here anyways? You're a senior officer, you know..." Misato asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

"I know." he replied with a chuckle. "These guys are damn good mechanics, but I know this aircraft better than any of them. An engine swap is a tricky job, and I'm the one who'll get killed if it isn't done properly, so I figure it's my responsibility to see that it is. Pass me my jacket, will you?" With his hands clean, the Major rolled his shirt sleeves down and gestured to the bench behind Misato.

"It also gives the boys down here a nice morale boost," he continued, shrugging into the blue tunic as she obligingly handed to him. "A good officer shouldn't ask anything of their troops that they aren't willing to do themselves."

Misato nodded knowingly, stowing the valuable nugget of soldierly wisdom in the back of her mind. The man certainly knew the business of warfare. Her lips twitched into a slight frown as she thought on his imminent departure. NERV would not only be losing an extremely skilled pilot, but a wealth of invaluable combat experience as well; something sorely lacking in the organization's senior ranks.

She would also be losing... could she consider him a friend? He had more of a temper than she would have thought on initial impressions, one she hoped she was never on the wrong side of again, and was as stubborn an ass as she'd ever met. At the same time, though, she couldn't deny that she found his blunt and earnest manner refreshing; such qualities were a real rarity around here. Certainly, he was someone she felt she could speak to as an equal at least. It was lonely at the top, and aside from Ritsuko there wasn't anyone else here who fit that description, she thought with a deepening frown.

She turned away before the aviator could notice her changed expression. Now facing the aircraft, she decided to change the subject.

"So, how're the repairs going?" she asked as the Major buttoned up his uniform.

He turned as well and nodded slowly at his silver mount. "I had my doubts, but one-seven-niner is a tough old beast. She'll fly again." Misato couldn't help but crack a smile at the affection and pride in his voice.

"How long will it take?"

"Well," he said slowly, "The wing repairs are pretty much done, and the new engine is going in today. We're planning to take her back out to Fuji tomorrow to run it on the ground, and assuming that goes well, I'll take her up for a quick jaunt to make sure everything still works."

"And it'll be ready for combat again after that?"

"In theory, assuming the new engine doesn't give us any trouble. Mind you, that's a mighty big assumption, so I wouldn't count on it. Might take a few more days to work out any kinks."

"Hm. I suppose It won't matter, since we aren't going to have a pilot..." she muttered, giving him a pointed look.

With a heavy sigh, he brushed down his uniform and straightened his black tie. "I'm sorry Katsuragi, but you aren't going to change my mind. Look, I know you think I'm leaving you high and dry, but I'm not going anywhere for at least a couple of weeks. I'll find you a new pilot before I go."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Misato guessed that the only pilot on earth who was experienced on this particular aircraft and who also spoke Japanese was currently standing in front of her.

"I taught half the fighter pilots in the JSSDF how to fly" he replied with an indifferent shrug. "I remember the names of a few that impressed me, I could probably train one of them up on the Avenger within a few weeks."

With a shake of her head, Misato turned away from him. "If you say so..." she replied in a dubious tone. She personally doubted this project would have a future at all without him here, but she supposed that would be settled at the meeting.

"Anyways, are you ready to go? We'll be in trouble if we keep the brass waiting much longer."

"Lead on, Macduff" he replied with a lopsided grin as he fixed his cap on his head.

"So, I heard through the grapevine that the kid is still here," Bishop spoke casually as the pair stood waiting for an elevator that would take them up into the massive glass and steel pyramid at the centre of the vast NERV HQ complex.

Katsuragi gave him a sideways glance. "You sound disappointed."

"Well..." he replied with a shake of his head, "Believe it or not, my moral stance on the use of child soldiers hasn't changed in the past few days."

"Yeah, yeah. Spare me the speech. And behave yourself when we get in there."

Bishop raised an eyebrow. Katsuragi was a hell of a lot more astute than she sometimes let on; she knew he was internally chomping at the bit for the chance to tell these men who sent children to fight their battles exactly what he thought of them.

"Or what?" he challenged with a mischievous grin.

With a huff, she crossed her arms and turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a stern gaze. "Look," she said in a commanding tone, "you may get to leave, but I don't. You're in this meeting on my recommendation, and If you come waltzing in with me and start mouthing off at the commander, I'll be held responsible for it."

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Bishop remained silent as they stepped through.

"So as a favour to me," she continued with a pleading look, "mind your manners, okay?"

He supposed he did owe her. "Fine." he said with a sigh. "...but this makes us even."

She stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "Does that mean I don't get a ride in the Avenger?"

He shook his head in disbelief. It always caught him off guard how quickly she could go from the deadly serious officer to the clueless party girl, like she had an internal switch she could flip anytime it suited her.

He chuckled, before answering noncommittally. "Well, come out to Fuji sometime before I leave and we'll see. No promises, though."

She responded with a grunt, before the doors reopened and they stepped out into a long corridor. At its end was a heavy steel blast door, which slid open as the pair approached. The two carbine-armed security guards standing watch in front of it smartly stepped aside, snapping to attention and presenting arms as he and Katsuragi passed. Their drill was sloppy to a trained eye such as Bishop's, but he appreciated the gesture of respect nonetheless, obliging them with a salute while Katsuragi simply ignored them.

For a what was supposedly a military branch of the UN, there was certainly a lack of military decorum here. Bishop couldn't help but be irked by it. They seemed to want to maintain the veneer of a professional military; going through the motions with the drill and the uniforms and the ranks without having any actual respect or appreciation for the meaning and history behind them.

The room they stepped into immediately reminded him of the archetypal 'war room' from every cold war movie he'd ever seen. The walls were bare metal, while the floor was polished black granite. Huge screens mounted at shoulder height surrounded the room, in the centre of which stood a huge conference table. It looked like solid rosewood, and probably cost more than he made in a year. He was certainly glad to see that all the money the world was pouring into this place was being put to good use.

Seated around said table were about a dozen people, their faces cast in dramatic shadows from the room's only light shining harshly down above them. They all stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the new arrivals. He recognized a few: The old man he'd met his first day, Dr. Takao, and the blonde scientist. The rest were strangers to him, including the man seated at the head of the table, who he assumed was the commander he'd heard so much about.

He had to stifle a guffaw at the sight of him. This was the man in charge of this place? He'd been expecting someone a little more... imposing. He sat hunched over the table, his lower face hidden behind a pair of gloved hands crossed in a thinking man's pose. The formal white gloves contrasted sharply with the rest of his appearance: his hair was unruly, he bore a ridiculous chin-beard, and his gilded black uniform, though probably sharp when worn properly, was wrinkled and left open.

Amusing as he may have found the man's appearance, the look in his eyes gave him pause. They appeared completely black behind the dark glasses, and were hard as steel, betraying no emotion whatsoever. If the man had taken note of the utter disdain Bishop was trying in vain to keep from showing in his expression, those eyes gave no indication, regarding him as indifferently as they would a piece of dirt.

Never before had he felt such an instant and intense dislike for another person, but those eyes told him it that the man was not someone to be taken lightly. He understood why Katsuragi seemed so wary of incurring his wrath, and if nothing else Bishop strove to keep his promises, so he bit his tongue and listened politely when the old man seated to the commander's right stood and addressed him.

"Ah, Major Bishop, so good of you to join us. Please, have a seat." He gestured to an empty chair at the opposite end of the table from the glowering commander. Katsuragi silently slipped past him and took the seat next to it, and with a small nod to the old man, he followed.

"Allow me to make the appropriate introductions. You're obviously acquainted with Doctors Akagi and Takao of the technical department," Fuyutsuki gestured to the two white-coated figures sat to his left as Bishop took his seat, and proceeded to name the other staff seated around the table. They were the heads of NERV's various departments and divisions: Security and intelligence, public relations, administration, internal affairs and so on.

Most greeted him with a polite and friendly nod, although chief inspector Ichiro Katori of security and intelligence fixed him with an antagonistic squint. No doubt he'd been informed of Bishop's run-in with his agents the other day.

"Anyways, as I'm sure Captain Katsuragi has informed you, the current topic of discussion is the future of the God's arrow program. Please continue, doctor." The elderly man retook his seat, while the short engineer to his left nervously cleared his throat.

"Thank you sir. As I was saying before you arrived, Major, your performance during the battle against the fourth angel has convinced me beyond all doubt that this weapon should become an important part of NERV's arsenal going forwards." He turned to gesture at one of the screens, which displayed an image of the Angel sprawled on the hillside where it fell.

"As can be plainly seen, the kinetic energy penetrator caused severe internal damage to the Angel, which incapacitated it for roughly four and a half minutes. Even after it was able to move, post-battle analysis has shown that its fighting capabilities were severely limited. It made no attempt to raise an AT field for the remainder of the battle, and it can be inferred that unit one likely would have failed to neutralize it had it not been so badly wounded first."

Dr. Akagi interjected. "As much as it pains me to admit this," she said with a baleful glance at her subordinate, "I'm inclined to agree. It was at least as effective at slowing it down as the N2 mine was against the last one, and we didn't have to blow up half the countryside to do it."

Takao beamed at the crumb of validation from his superior, while Fuyutsuki nodded slowly. "Then we're in agreement. It is my opinion that the weapon is ready to be declared operational. Your thoughts, Commander?" Fuyutsuki turned to the motionless figure beside him, as did Bishop's gaze.

The commander remained silent for a moment. His eyes were locked squarely on Bishop, who returned a steely look of his own, making a point of refusing to break eye contact. He knew when he was being sized up. The silent confrontation continued for a moment, an uncomfortable aura settling over the room, before the commander abruptly stood.

"I'll leave this matter to your discretion, Fuyutsuki," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was taller than Bishop had estimated when he was seated, though a bit on the scrawny side. His deep voice had a sneering quality to it that carried the expectation of unquestioning obedience. Bishop knew then what sort of leader he was; a petty tyrant who ruled his kingdom through fear and intimidation.

He'd known many officers cut from the same cloth in his time; the type of officers who tended to catch bullets in their backs in the heat of battle.

"I don't believe there is anything further on the agenda that requires my personal attention. Good day." With this last remark, the man finally broke eye contact with Bishop and cast a final glare around the table, before turning on his heel and striding to the door.

"Nice guy..." Bishop muttered to Katsuragi as the door slid shut behind the departing Commander. She gave him a warning look, and a kick to the shin of his recovering leg that caused him to yelp in pain.

All eyes in the room suddenly turned on him, and he tried to play it off as a cough. He cast a poisonous glance towards Katsuragi, who flashed him a smug, toothy grin in return.

Fuyutsuki loudly cleared his throat to regain the room's attention. "Anyways," he said with a stern look towards the two young officers at the end of the table, "The question before us now is how we turn this project from a prototype into an effective tactical asset. Major Bishop seems eager to share his thoughts on the matter, so I'll turn the floor over to him."

Much as he may have come to detest this organization, he supposed there was no harm in giving them some honest advice.

"Well," the pilot said, scratching his chin, "Since you asked, I can think of a few major limitations that need to be addressed if you want this thing to be an effective weapon."

Seeing he had the room's full attention, he continued. "The first is the fact that the Avenger can only carry one at a time. I got lucky with that shot, but any number of variables could have changed at the last second, causing it to miss or strike a glancing blow. There would have been no second chance without having to land and rearm."

Fuyutsuki nodded in agreement. "So what would you recommend to address it?"

Bishop thought on that for a moment. "I guess the most obvious solution would be to send up more than one aircraft at a time. That way, if the first shot misses or doesn't do enough damage, you can immediately follow it up with another."

"And how many aircraft would you recommend?"

"Depends on how much money you're willing to spend, I suppose. Half a dozen fighters, along with a healthy stockpile of spare parts would probably be sufficient to do the job without breaking the bank."

The Sub-Commander turned to Akari Mutsu, head of logistics and procurement. "Are we able to acquire more aircraft from the Canadians?" he asked

The middle-aged bureaucrat, who reminded Bishop of a stern school teacher he'd once had, gave a curt nod. "I don't see why not, as long as we're willing to pay," she replied matter-of-factly.

"And how quickly would your department be able to modify them to carry the weapon?" Fuyutsuki directed this inquiry to Takao, who responded with a shrug.

"If money is no object, we could take on some additional staff and probably have six aircraft ready with, say, three week's worth of work."

"Very good, I'll see to it that the necessary funding is allocated. What about our supply of the weapon?"

Takao studied his notes for a moment before answering. "We only had two prototypes made, one of which has obviously been expended. We've already drawn up plans for an improved production model, with some refinements to the guidance system, and wider and sturdier fins for better post-penetration effect. We need only pass the plans along to the foundry in Germany, and they can begin work immediately."

"The convoy bringing unit two to Japan is set to depart from Bremerhaven in a week. With any luck, the first batch will be ready in time to be shipped aboard one of the transports," Akagi added.

"Excellent, please make the appropriate arrangements, doctor. Now, anything else to add, Major?"

Bishop nodded. "Right, well my second concern is that you don't seem to have any good options for bases."

"What about camp Fuji?" Dr. Akagi asked with a raised eyebrow. "You don't seem to have had any trouble operating out of there so far..."

"We haven't, but that's just with one aircraft making occasional test flights. Half a dozen fighters flying regular operational sorties is another matter entirely. The runway is already in rough shape, It'd need to be resurfaced before it sees any heavy use. You'll also need proper facilities to maintain, refuel, and rearm the aircraft, and you would need a permanent security detail there if you want to keep it a secret, which brings us to another issue."

He paused to allow those taking notes to catch up before continuing. "The angels seem to have a habit of showing up without warning, so you'd need to maintain a QRA detachment at all times, which means you'll need to build housing out at Fuji in order to allow the pilots and mechanics to always be near the aircraft."

"QRA? What does that stand for?" Katsuragi asked, looking up from her notepad.

"Quick reaction alert." He saw from the confused faces around the table that he would have to explain further. "It's an air force term, it means having aircraft and pilots that are ready to scramble at a moment's notice. Back in the war, we lived and slept no more than a hundred yards from our fighters. We were expected to be airborne within five minutes of the alarm going off, any time day or night. As I see it, you have the exact same operational requirement here."

"Hold on, what you're talking about here is effectively building an entire airbase. I'm not sure we can justify the time and expense of building an entirely new facility outside of Tokyo three just to accommodate a few aircraft." The head of NERV's budget office, a stuffy bean-counter in a tweed suit whose name Bishop had already forgotten, grumbled with a huff.

The rat-faced chief inspector nodded his agreement. "Yes," he said with a baleful look at Bishop, "My agents are stretched thin protecting the facilities we already possess. My department would require a... significant budget increase in order to effectively secure a new site, especially one outside of the city proper."

Bishop raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger, I'm just telling you what needs to be done if you want to operate a fighter squadron out of that base. These aircraft aren't toys. They are incredibly complex war machines, they need constant skilled maintenance and a lot of infrastructure to keep them running."

"Well," Fuyutsuki said with a small smile, "We have plenty of experience keeping complex machines running. I certainly understand the concerns regarding camp Fuji, however. It seems that a better solution may be to build a new facility within Tokyo three. That way, no additional housing or security would be required. Since we will have to spend significant amounts of money on construction either way, we may as well invest it within the city."

There was a series of nods from around the table. "However," the old man continued, "The question remains of how to do so. I don't believe constructing a full-length runway within Hakone would be practical."

"Agreed." Bishop had seen the entire area from the air; practically every flat piece of terrain in the Hakone caldera was already occupied. Unless something important were demolished, there was no room for a runway. He thought on the problem for a moment, thinking back to the day of the battle and his emergency landing on the road.

"During the war," he began slowly, lost in thought. "We operated from roads on more than a few occasions. The yanks bombed all our major airbases to smithereens in the first few days of the invasion, so we mostly flew from dispersed bases in the far north. Just about any straight stretch of road that was long and wide enough became a runway at one point or another."

He shrugged and looked around the table. "Could maybe build a hangar next to the highway. When you need to launch your aircraft, you clear the traffic off the road, and away they go." He frowned as he tried to picture a map of Tokyo-3 in his head. "Although, I can't think of a stretch of road long enough off the top of my head. That spot where I landed is too short to take off from with a full load of fuel and weapons. And of course if an Angel happens to attack during rush hour, clearing the road might be a problem..."

The room fell silent as the assembled staff considered the proposition. It was not an ideal solution, but no one came forward with anything better.

Fuyutsuki finally clapped his hands together in resignation and looked around the table with a weary smile. "Well, I've detained all of you long enough for one day. For now, the priority will be procuring the necessary equipment. Think on the problem of basing over the next few days, and feel free to come to me with any ideas. Thank you all for your time."

As the senior staff began to pack their things and filter out of the boardroom, Bishop remained seated, pondering the sharp contrasts between NERV's two ranking officers. Much as he may question his moral compass, he couldn't deny that the old man seemed to embody the calm, approachable style of leadership that Bishop admired and tried to emulate. He commanded through mutual respect, not fear.

Lost in thought, he jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over at Katsuragi, who jerked her head toward the door.

"Whaddya say we grab some lunch?" she asked lightly.

Bishop nodded, and made a show of bending down to rub his throbbing shin with a pained expression. "Sure," he replied, "but you're buying."

The pair were soon the last ones left in the room, aside from Fuyutsuki, who remained in his seat scribbling away at some paperwork. As they stood to leave, the sub-commander abruptly cleared his throat, causing the two officers to freeze like a pair of deer caught in the headlights.

"Just a moment, please," he said, looking up at them with an innocent smile. "I was hoping you two would be kind enough to join an old man for a cup of tea"

They exchanged a look and a shrug. They could hardly refuse.

Fetching three ornately glazed tea bowls from the locked drawer under his desk, Fuyutsuki purposefully strode across his office to the low table where his guests were waiting. Carefully setting the delicate antiques down on its immaculate polished cedar top, he then sat down cross-legged across from the two nervous officers and carefully poured an equal measure of hot water into each bowl from the kettle his assistant had boiled for him.

"Sir, please, you don't have to go through all this trouble. A cup of coffee would be just fine with me..." Fuyutsuki cut the Major's protestations of with a raised hand.

"You are my guests, it's my duty to serve you. And besides," he said as he opened a small wooden container and examined the bright green powder within, "I would be remiss if you didn't get to experience a bit of traditional Japanese culture during your stay in our country."

Using a wooden scoop, he doled the perfect amount of powder into one of the bowls. He then promptly picked up the bamboo whisk from it's place on the table, and with a well-practised hand quickly and firmly whipped the mixture into a smooth, bright green, foamy concoction. Repeating the process with the remaining bowls, he then carefully and deliberately placed one in front of each of his guests before taking up his own.

Captain Katsuragi immediately lifted the bowl in both hands and bowed her head in gratitude, before taking a long, contented sip. After watching her, the Canadian did likewise, casting a wary glance down at the steaming beverage and taking a decidedly more conservative sip than his colleague.

An amused smile crossed Fuyutsuki's face as he saw the foreigner grimace for a split second. A stickler for tea protocol might have taken it as a grave insult, but the old professor reminded himself that Matcha was, if nothing else, an acquired taste.

"Thank you, sir." Katsuragi said with a genuine smile. "It's been ages since I've had a proper cup of tea."

The Canadian nodded politely in agreement. "Yes, it's uh... very good, thank you." Though he clearly didn't care for it, he dutifully took another sip.

Fuyutsuki bowed his head in acknowledgement of the compliments, before taking the first sip from his own bowl. It was strong; just how he liked it, although he could see how it might be a bit much for a foreigner with an unrefined palate.

The three drank their tea in silence for a moment, Fuyutsuki savouring the moment of peace. He had purposefully designed his office to be a quiet place of refuge; the traditional decor, wood furnishings, muted colour palate and warm lighting all served to form a stark contrast to Ikari's dark and cavernous lair. He hoped his guests found the room as pleasing as he did.

After another moment of stillness, the old professor decided he ought to get on to the business at hand.

"On the subject of your stay in our country, I've been informed that it's coming to a premature end," he mentioned casually between sips of tea.

The foreigner put his bowl down and eyed Fuyutsuki. "Yes, that's right," he answered bluntly.

The old man nodded slowly. "May I ask why?"

"I made it perfectly clear in my letter of resignation."

"Ah, my apologies, I haven't had a chance to read it yet. Perhaps you wouldn't mind explaining it to me."

The Major took a deep breath, his gaze hardening. "Fine, since you asked so nicely..." He began calmly, his tone becoming bitter and acidic as he went on. "I'm leaving because I find it unconscionable the way you send children to fight your battles. I think you people are pathetic, despicable cowards, no matter how noble your aims may be. I know there's nothing I can do about it, but continuing to work for you knowing what I know now would make me complicit in what is tantamount to a war crime. That is why I'm leaving, sir."

"Major!" Katsuragi gasped, aghast at the display of insubordination and rudeness towards their host. Bishop paid her no mind, continuing to fix the old man with an ice-cold glare as he awaited Fuyutsuki's response.

The gentleman officer who had so charmed him when they first met was nothing more than a facade, Fuyutsuki realized then. That facade was cracking, and a chill ran down his spine as the hardened killer began to resurface in the Canadian's eyes. He chose his next words very carefully.

"Well, Major..." he began slowly, trying his best to soothe the angry foreigner. "...though we may disagree, I can certainly respect a man who stands by his principles. I was hoping, however, that you would be willing to reconsider."

"I don't make a habit of second guessing my decisions. It gets you killed in my line of work."

"That's fair enough. It's not my intention to prevent your departure, but I do want you to be aware of the implications of your decision. For starters, you will be under constant surveillance for the remainder of your life. You're privy to quite a bit of highly classified information, and one slip of the tongue could result in your arrest and punishment under the terms of the document you signed."

The Major gave a snort of derision. "I used to be a celebrity, you know, having my every move scrutinized is nothing new. You'll have to do better than that if you want to scare me."

"I see. I suppose you would have no interest in becoming the commander of NERV's new aerial operations section, then."

"...Aerial operations section?"

"It's the tentative name for the unit under the tactical operations department that will be responsible for the god's arrow program, as well as the associated aircraft once it all becomes operational. I can think of no one better qualified than you to command it."

"Neither can I, still not interested."

"That's truly a shame. Such a position comes with significant financial compensation. More than any general makes in your country's military, I can assure you."

Fuyutsuki immediately realized he shouldn't have said that. The Canadian bristled at the remark, leaning forward with a vicious scowl.

"...Is that what you think of me?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone. "You think I'm a mercenary? One of those scumbags who'll kill for a fucking paycheck?"

Fuyutsuki floundered as he tried to think of a response that wouldn't further escalate the situation, before his dark-haired subordinate came to his rescue.

"What about Shinji?" Katsuragi's small voice took both men by surprise.

"What about him?" Bishop asked without taking his eyes off of Fuyutsuki.

"Didn't you say that you owe him your life?" she blurted out, grabbing the big man's shoulder and turning him to face her.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" the Major snapped, wrenching his shoulder away from her grasp.

Katsuragi glared up at him. "I think he decided to stay because of whatever you said to him, or at least I assume so. Me and those two friends of his were waiting for him at the train station, y'know, to say goodbye. When they finally arrived and he saw us there, he made a quite a scene. The agents had to drag him kicking and screaming onto the platform, yelling something abut how it was his duty to fight, and how he wanted to stay."

Fuyutsuki noticed that the man's anger faltered slightly. He seemed to have a soft spot for Ikari's boy, and the shrewd old professor made a note of it as Katsuragi continued.

"He kept it up until I finally ran over to them and ordered the Agents to leave. I can only assume all that talk of duty and such came from you..." she said accusingly.

The Canadian let out a heavy sigh. "I-I was just trying to help the kid come to terms with what he'd been through, give him some reason for all the suffering he'd endured so he could justify it to himself. Hell, that was the only thing that kept me sane for a lot of years..." His expression hardened as he again locked eyes with Fuyutsuki.

"In hindsight, I should have dragged him onto that train myself."

"Yeah, well, the fact remains that he's decided to stay and fight, and it's because he took whatever you told him to heart." Katsuragi laughed bitterly as she continued. "He never listens to a damn thing I tell him, but he hangs on your every word. God knows why, but I think he really looks up to you. Don't you think that gives you some sort of responsibility? Think about what kind of example you're setting for him if you leave now after convincing him to stay, intentionally or not."

The Major stewed for a moment and angrily worked his jaw, before abruptly standing and pacing back and forth across the room a few times. Approaching the table again, he shook his head vigorously and pointed a finger a Katsuragi.

"No," he uttered in a hoarse voice, "That's not fair. You can't put all that on me. I had one goddamn conversation with the kid, and now I'm responsible for him? This isn't my war, and I'm not the one who sent that boy off to fight it." He jutted a finger at his chest. "I fought my war. Isn't that enough? I fought it and won, and it took everything and everyone I had. You can't ask me to fight another one. I just... I don't have anything more to give."

"This is your war, Major, whether you like it or not. It's humanity's war." Fuyutsuki said gently, staring down at his now lukewarm tea. "That boy understands that, and he's going to fight whether you're here or not."

He took a long sip of the soothing beverage, before looking up to meet the irate Canadian's wild eyes. "And you're wrong when you say you have nothing more to give. You have experience and wisdom, of the type that can only be gained by living through what you have. You can use it to help keep that boy safe."

The Major grunted, turning his back on Fuyutsuki. "Yeah, I tried sharing a bit of that wisdom, and it ended up putting him right back into danger," he spat over his shoulder.

"Despite what you may think of me," Fuyutsuki responded flatly, "I take no pleasure in having to send that boy to fight. I fully understand the burden that has been placed on his shoulders, and I acknowledge my responsibility in placing it there. You, I, and the rest of humanity owe him a tremendous debt for carrying that burden. Unlike the rest of humanity, however, you have a unique opportunity to repay some of that debt, and to help him carry that weight."

The old man knew his plea was probably falling on deaf ears, but he continued nonetheless. "You can do so by passing along your knowledge to him, and by taking command of that unit. Finding someone else will take precious time that we don't have, and even if we do find someone, they would be nowhere near as qualified as you are. I know you can mold it into an effective fighting force, and every blow it strikes against the angels will lessen the burden on the boy's shoulders. Now, wouldn't you agree that you owe him that much, at least?"

There was no answer for a moment, as the foreigner stood with his arms crossed facing away from them. "It's funny," he finally said in a low voice, remaining motionless. "I had that exact same thought the other day."

"...Well?"

At Fuyutsuki's prodding, he turned and closed the few steps to tower directly over the seated sub-commander, looking down at him with that same hard gaze.

"Would I have to resign my commission?" he asked, the curt question catching the old man off guard.

"I... don't see why."

"I swore an oath of allegiance to my king and country, and I take that oath seriously. That's where my loyalty lies, not with NERV, and sure as hell not with the UN. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all."

He pointed to the decorations on his chest. "I fought hard to earn these, so don't ask me to wear one of your ridiculous uniforms in their place."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Clearly having expected an argument, the Major sneered at Fuyutsuki's acquiescence and returned to his pacing for a moment, lost in thought, before again wheeling on the old professor.

"I get to pick my pilots and train them as I see fit."

"Of course."

"Oh yeah? Add fifty percent to whatever you were planning on paying me."

"Done."

Bishop continued to fix him with a glare for a moment, no doubt trying to think of some ridiculous demand that would sink the deal. Fuyutsuki knew he had won, however. The Major, rude and belligerent as he may have been, was an honourable man, and that honour was a weakness that could be exploited. The life debt he owed to the third child would keep him here for as long as he was needed.

"...I'll think about it," the officer finally growled, before abruptly turning on his heel and striding towards the door. "Thanks for the tea" he muttered just before the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him.

When he was gone, a wide-eyed Katsuragi immediately turned to Fuyutsuki and bowed her head low. "P-please sir, allow me to apologize his behalf," she nervously stammered. "He had no right to speak to you that way, especially after you served us tea, a-and were such a gracious host..."

Fuyutsuki returned the bow, raising his hand to cut off any further protestations. "Please, no apologies, Captain. It's not your fault. What we do here can seem very... odd, lets say, to someone with such an inflexible and old-fashioned sense of ethics. I can respect that, impractical as it may be in times like these." He cracked a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Let's just be glad he spoke his peace to me, and not to the Commander."

He was gratified by a small chuckle from his subordinate at the remark. "Yeah," she said with a smile, "If those two were alone in a room, one of them would probably wind up dead."

"Indeed." Fuyutsuki responded with a nod as he downed what was left of his tea. He couldn't help but notice that his hands were shaking slightly, and he had little doubt over who would be the victor in Katsuragi's joking hypothetical.

Ikari certainly had a quiet menace about him, but Fuyutsuki had never walked away from a conversation with NERV's commander feeling the way he did now: like he'd just survived being locked in a cage with a hungry tiger.

"That man is a fighter, with a fighter's temperament and manners" the old professor said plainly, directing his gaze to the closed door.

"And that's exactly why we need him."