(Amusement)

When the next angel attacked, I was once again not involved, neither in the actual battle, nor in the debriefing that followed – Much like the previous times, I was kept on Standby in EVA 00's cage while the two higher-scoring pilots with their more technologically advanced EVAs were deployed on cargo planes to engage the hostile, and in the end, my involvement was never called for.

When I was allowed to be extracted from my plug, my intention was to move right away to the briefing room, where I meant to wait for the remaining staff to file in once they had been retrieved from the site of deployment. There would be no point in going anywhere else, so I had been expecting to spend the wait here and perhaps made some headway on my current book.

As the Commander was once again absent on a business trip and both Captain Katsuragi and Dr. Akagi had been off to oversee the deployment from a container-bound makeshift command center, the officer on duty who addressed me was vice commander Fuyutsuki, who all in all made a disgruntled impression.

His tone of speech tinged with ill-concealed displeasure, he told me not to bother and just go home.

This was all that he deemed necessary to tell me, though I expected that I would be told what I needed to be told when I would need to be told it, and what I was not told was that for which it was determined I need not concern myself with it.

Though one could remark that observing the other's battles could still be relevant in preparing me for those to come, I suppose it was not strictly necessary for me to participate in a meeting regarding a battle that I had not taken part in. We'd been shown the recording of the Second taking out the aquatic angel, but that may have been more for Captain Katsuragi's benefit – surely EVA 02 and the second were no longer unknown quantities to us.

Even without needing to be told, I could deduce from the general fact pattern that the deployment had not gone well, but at the same time not so catastrophically as to constitute an immediate emergency. In passing, I picked up talk of retrieving the two EVAs, not of rushing any of my colleagues to sickbay.

So I did as I was told and packed my things.

Both Ikari-kun and the Second did not come to school the next morning.

Once the first period had ticked by without either of their arrivals, I found myself surrounded by both Aida and Suzuhara, and a swarm of the Second Child's new friends.

It was just about the first time that such a great number of students had been gathered around my seat.

Their questions were many, sudden, and loud, for Suzuhara was inclined to bicker with the girls.

I wasn't sure where to begin – the next set of questions seemed to follow before I could gather my thoughts to elaborate on the first.

I was finding myself a little bit shorttaken until the assertive voice of the class representative cut through the din, gesturing for the numerous students to back away.

"Hey, come on guys, give her some space!"

But Horaki-san, as much as anyone, also wished to inquire along the very same gist that had been common to most of the questions: Where were Ikari-kun and the Second?

Suzuhara-kun in particular expressed marked surprise when I could not tell him more, as did the class representative, though she did not directly voice it, perhaps as a concession to some notion of tact.

At the very least, I could tell them that I had not heard anything of their being injured – though one of the Second Child's new associates found this to be a rather lacking volume of information:

"How can you not know?! Aren't they your comrades? Don't you care at all about whether or not they're safe?"

Her voice was somewhat raised, but I understood that her displeasure was ultimately not about me. Doubtlessly her view of me must have been somewhat colored by the Second's, but for the most part, I could understand that her irritation was likely simply born from worry.

So I thought it best to calmly address that worry's source;

"They cannot have been significantly injured. If they had, I would have been told."

"How can you be so sure?!"

"Because we are still here. If the situation was as dire as you seem to be implying, they would have finished evacuating the city before morning."

At that point, it was Aida-kun who implored the others to 'ease up on me', making a point to state that I was likely right. He needn't have bothered. It is not as if the others had not raised legitimate questions that it was natural for them to be interested in.

"I have an appointment at NERV this afternoon. I will make sure to ask about the details of what happened."

"Thank you for doing that for us." said the class representative. I suppose she was making a point of stressing that she did not necessarily agree with the sentiment of her associate.

"There is no need for that. I had been intending to do so anyway."

I indeed found out what had occurred from the Doctor.

She related the matter while affixing various electrodes to me for the purpose of a routine test.

I was grateful for the narrative, really, for it gave me something else to think about than the cool touch of the plastic and her fingers on my nude skin.

Most of that visit I would spend fixating some dim gray corner of the room, turning all my attention to listening intently the yesterday's tale.

It seems that, at first, it had been shaping up to be yet another of the Second Child's effortless victories – Only moments after the enemy trudged out of the waters, she had gone leaping straight at xem without bothering much to consult or coordinate with command or Ikari-kun, and swiftly split the angel's body down the middle with a single masterful stroke.

And with the previous two adversaries, this might have done the bloody deed – but this one was different, possessed, like xier sibling Ramiel, of some unforeseen special ability that nobody could have predicted.

The consensus, which Dr. Akagi and the other researchers had since arrived at based on snapshots of the battle and measurements taken afterward, was that xir possessed two cores instead of just one. One might then speculate what this implied about xier soul… but in the most practical sense, what this meant was that the Second Child's attack had not killed xem.

Xir arose anew in two separate forms, and proceeded to make short work of the greatly surprised pilots. From what she said, most of the staff was of the opinion that the two pilots' antagonistic working relationship had been a significant contributing factor to their defeat – their coordination, apparently, had been much compromised.

It was exactly the kind of outcome that I had been concerned about ever since we were first introduced to the second. She was too focused on raking in glory to look beyond that to a larger purpose. I'd warned Ikari-kun that we had no choice but to cooperate with her insofar as she would let us, but out of the two, he was the rookie. He had not undergone the sort of training necessary to keep a level head in life-and-death situations. One could not expect him to behave any more maturely than our classmates – just a short while ago, he'd known as little of NERV and the EVAs as they had.

It seemed almost inevitable then, that such an outcome was to assail us sooner or later.

Still we had been more fortunate than not: The regenerative capabilities of this angel were lesser than xier predecessors. Perhaps xier double core came with its set of drawbacks – if it didn't, it stood to reason that more of xier siblings would have shared this feature.

After the EVAs had been immobilized in combat, the national military has incapacitated the angel with a pair of N2 mines that had carved deep craters into the earth – I felt a sting of sympathy for all the plants and animals that must have perished in the blast, unseen, unnamed and unknown.

The angel had been regenerating xemself ever since, slowly but steadily.

After surveying this sub-par outcome, it seems that Captain Katsuragi and had drawn some consequences and, with some input from Mr. Kaji, had decreed that both Ikari-kun and the Second were to be subjected to some intense, special training regimen to both counter this angel's particular strengths and shore up their lackluster cooperation – hence why they had not come to school. They were currently sequestered at the Captain's apartment. There had been room in it still for another tenant.

It seems the Doctor had not been at all surprised to hear this – Apparently, Captain Katsuragi had previously been the Second Child's handler back in Europe, and she supposedly had a 'bad habit of getting attached'.

She regaled me with an anecdote about the Captain's pet bird and how he was originally a laboratory animal that was supposed to be euthanized once the study he was part of was concluded. There was much speculation coming from her, while I sat and watched on silently.

Perhaps she simply felt the need to vent – there was a quality to it like of a person casually talking to her houseplants or household objects.

From what I've read, many humans mind it when they have nobody to talk to for a long time, and that is why they may do that kind of thing. In other words, I don't think Dr. Akagi was really talking to me, in particular – working to make the angel's defeat happen on the technological side of things must have caused her a lot of work.

"She's always been sentimental, that one. Trying to soothe her conscience, though at this point it's little more than a self-serving delusion. I wonder if she's ever going to put such childish things aside."

No matter the purity of the Captain's motives or the lack thereof, I cannot see what is so bad about taking pity upon some unfortunate animal, and especially not living people. Flawed as it may be, would not the absence of what little care she had provided be even worse?

The positive effect she'd had on Ikari-kun so far was undeniable I think.

Besides, could Dr. Akagi truly claim to have put away all sentiments? For the sake of her pet cats, I hope not.

Of course, as she spoke, she never expected me to make any answers nor did she wait or leave a space for it.

I was not expected to have anything much to say.

She kept going at length about the larger-scale fallout of the botched mission, the hail of complaints that followed, the unpleasant dealings they'd had with the military… all manner of things.

"Why is any of this relevant, though? It is likely that the angel will be defeated as it was predicted by the scenario. The complaints and actions of the Japanese military are irrelevant."

"It matters because it's embarassing!" asserted the Doctor - though as soon as she became aware of having raised her voice even a bit, she markedly worked to restrain herself. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I would have to explain this to you."

I do understand the concept of embarrassment.

I've read of it in books and I do not need it explained to me.

That is not why I asked…

Though I suppose there is no point in bringing this up her, I doubt she'd have much interest in my thoughts. Best to sit still and let her finish the procedure, and let her be glad to be rid of me.

I wondered, distantly, what might have been, had the Captain's home been large enough to admit a fourth lodger…

Though it was a nonsensical thought, entertained only 'cause it was impossible. It is unlikely that I would have accepted, even given the option. I had chosen my dwelling to be the way I'd wanted it. I preferred to be myself, to have the option of arranging it all as I wanted without anyone's questioning or interference. I had so little choice with anything else in my life that I'd rather not give up what little of it was left to me.

Though, of course, if the Captain had ordered me to move in with them, that might have been an entirely different matter.

It might not have been exactly what I would have preferred, but what might have come from it, in the long run, might not have been an entirely negative thing…

Such were the thoughts that went through my head over the course of the next couple of days, just sometimes, just unbidden.

As my fellow pilots were undergoing special training at Captain Katsurag's residence, I saw neither hide nor hair of them.

That should not have been strange, really.

That was just going back to what things had always been like, in the long, long years before the others arrived.

There was no getting accosted by the Second Child anymore, neither at school nor at home.

By all accounts, that should have been peaceful.

...

I was summoned to Captain Katsuragi's residence today.

It had been wondering, for a while now, what that place might be like.

Not that it was anything special – just a modern, upper-scale apartment, though not especially well maintained, filled with basically normal furniture.

Nothing of note.

A strange, characteristic smell in the air – perhaps residues of food.

The training, apparently, had not been going so well. The Captain was reluctant to consider this, really, seeing as the complex choreography they had assembled to take down the angel would involve many complex motions that would be best left to those with higher synchronization rates, but apparently, the training had not been going very well, so she was considering possibly using myself instead.

It was certainly bad news, that Ikari-kun and the second were still struggling in their coordination, but it wasn't unexpected.

I was asked to witness some of their training together, which the second loudly complained of – "It feels weird having her watching us!"

The idea was to have me try it out in her stead. Certainly, a reasonable proposition, considering what was at stake. The Captain more or less suggested to me that she'd prefer it to have work as she'd initially planned it – not in the least because of the original pair's higher synchronization rates – but having a backup option would increase our odds of success.

Thus, I did as I was told.

I watched carefully as the pair of them trained – Ikari-kun and the Second were struggling indeed. Soberingly, she hesitated not to blame it all on him, seeing as he could not match her.

But of course he couldn't – he had not received the same training as her.

Should a person of her natural intelligence not see that he couldn't possibly hope to match her, that she would need to adjust to his slower motions?

Well. I was ultimately called to perform in her stead. To play her part in the complex motions of the battle plan concocted to account for the double cores – a complex row of motions set to music as a mnemonic, to make it more practical to remember them.

Clearly, the limiting factor here would be Ikari-kun's performance – even for an average student our age, he was not especially coordinated – so I endeavored to match him as closely as I might.

I thought it was going well at first, until I suddenly noticed that he was no longer keeping pace.

By the time I'd realized that he'd stopped, the chain of events was already well in motion. Too fast, too sudden, for me to really grasp.

By the time I was plucking out the earbuds with the choreography music, the Second was already fleeing the room, throwing the door shut behind her.

Ikari-kun was already looking after her in confusion.

Mr. Kaji, who had been watching the entire spectacle from the sidelined, had already gotten up to advise him as he thought it good:

"Go after her – that's part of your duties, too."

He'd gone after her before I even had the time to process what just took place.

I'd been too focused on the task at hand.

I'd paid no attention to the Second, until she had all but fled the room -

I was utterly confused.

The closest I got in the vein of an explanation was the sound of the Captain groaning just before running her palm through her face. "So much for the jealousy gambit!"

I couldn't discern what she meant…

Then, I was told to go home.

I never heard how the matter between the Third and Second Children had been concluded.

...

It was only long after I had gone home to the day and sought to record the events of the day in my notebook that it really occurred to me that this had been the first and only time in my life that I had danced with another.

I knew of dancing, of course. I'd read of it in books. It was not so different from the occasional gymnastics that had been part of my pilot training, but from the books that had mentioned it, I knew that it was held to be sometimes of special significance, at least if engaged in with another person.

Our school had held a couple of yearly balls, and I'd faintly taken notes of my classmates whispering and giggling about who was going with who – I myself never attended, since it had been a voluntary, non-essential activity unrelated to piloting EVA or the minimum required to keep up appearances. I honestly didn't see the appeal, or what I would really do there, apart from drinking soda and executing repetitive motions – I had food and drink and home, and didn't see what might be so special or desirable about it, if my classmates' assumption that it would be a special big event did not already precondition them to see it that way.

For the last one right after the mid-year break, I almost considered going, if only because I knew that it was likely the very last such event that our school would ever hold – just out of curiosity. Just to see what it was like, even once. But that was only a fleeting thought, and in the end, I think I was tired from work that day and could not find much about it to entice me to drag myself out of bed again after I'd returned from NERV to the day, so I'd figured that it was probably pointless to begin with.

I didn't really have anything to gain from it, and I'd never gone to a dance before – I wouldn't even know what do to.

One way or another, I'd concluded that I would neither be good at it, nor take pleasure in it, nor was there really any point, and there might not have been, even if I could do those things.

So I had simply accepted that 'dancing' would be yet another part of this world that I was not to experience in my short time here. Something else that simply lay outside the scope of relevance, or the narrow slice of the world that I existed in.

After all, most people don't experience most of what exists, and those were not individuals bound by very specific purposes.

I'd figured that the world would end without me ever experiencing dancing – at most, a vague, distant, dull sort of loss that I know does not really matter, where I can't even imagine what it is like, or what its absence entails.

Now, through some whimsy coincidence of fate, I had gotten to do it, even if it was just for a brief moment – but it's hard to say if I'm glad, or even what it was like.

It didn't last too long, and I was too focused on carrying out the steps and matching Ikari-kun's precise pace – after all, it had not been a mere leisure activity, but a potentially integral part of a mission.

Even if I tried to think back on it, I could only replay and taste in memory what I had actually retained - There had not really been enough time for any distinct impression of it to percolate.

I suppose it was fun, maybe?