Sokila looked at her newest painting with a critical eye.

"...from a desert king...to a sailor on the sea...?"

It depicted Kensuke Aida being thrown by Ozymandias onto a boat, where Sinbad was commanding the wheel.

"...it feels like it should make more sense..."

Lavenza stepped to her side, gazing stoically at the picture. "In what way?"

"Well...shouldn't it be someone else from that desert land? 'Eee-jip-it', right?"

"Egypt."

"That place!"

Lavenza remarked, "The form that one's Persona takes is not limited to such restrictions as consistent mythologies; my Trickster and his fellow Phantom Thieves were very similar in that regard. It took the form that closely corresponded to the newfound understanding of his Other Self: that's all." Pointing upward with her index finger, she added, "As my older sister Elizabeth once put it: 'mythological theming is more of a guideline than an actual rule; such a restraint can get stuffed!'"

"Really?"

"Well, I think she said she got the idea from a pirate movie she watched once..."

Sokila, suddenly inspired by this, began painting a pirate hat onto Sinbad's head. "Gotcha!"

Lavenza blinked slowly. "...I don't believe that's quite the lesson to take from that..."

The faint haze of blue began to brighten-

xxxx

/Tuesday: September 1, 2015/

/LeNoir Café, Outskirts of Hakone Academy/

PILATE: YOUR WEEK IS UP
PILATE: DO YOU HAVE AN ANSWER?

Shinji Ikari had woken up that morning to that message from PILATE. Without waking any of his roommates up, he had gone to LeNoir so as to procure coffee, breakfast, and a chance to think about the prior question in a place with pleasant music. Scrolling once more through his message log, Shinji pondered the relevant parts of PILATE's question:

PILATE: IMAGINE IF ASPECTS OF YOUR LIFE WERE DISPLAYED FOR PEOPLE TO WATCH: AKIN TO A TELEVISION SHOW, OR PERHAPS A SERIES OF MOVIES.
PILATE: EACH MOVIE DISPLAYS A DISTORTED VISION OF EVENTS FROM YOUR PAST, EMPHASIZING A CONSISTENT MESSAGE:
PILATE: "DISCARD INDIVIDUALITY. CONFORM WITH THE GROUP. STANDING OUT WILL ONLY GUARANTEE PAIN. OBEY YOUR SUPERIOR IN ALL THINGS, NO MATTER WHO IT IS."
PILATE: CHANGING THESE MOVIES TO REMOVE THE DISTORTED VISIONS WOULD GIVE A 'HAPPY ENDING', SO TO SPEAK—
PILATE: A VISION OF THE TRUTH, WITHOUT EMBELLISHMENT: VICE AND VIRTUE TOGETHER, WITH ALL OF YOUR BLEMISHES.
PILATE: WITHOUT REMOVING THESE DISTORTIONS, YOU WOULD BE FORCED TO OBEY THE MORAL MESSAGE AS IT STANDS.
PILATE: ONLY BY REMOVING THE DISTORTIONS CAN YOU BE FREE TO 'BE YOURSELF.'

PILATE: NOW, YOU MIGHT DISAGREE WITH THE MORAL MESSAGE OF THE DISTORTED FILMS, BUT THERE IS A CAVEAT
PILATE: HIDDEN BY DISTORTIONS, YOUR LIFE IS LARGELY INVISIBLE TO THE MASSES: THEY HAVE NO MEANS OF KNOWING THAT THE FILMS ARE DEPICTING 'YOU.' IT WOULD BE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN VIEWING A FICTIONAL 'BASED ON A TRUE STORY' FILM...AND A BIOGRAPHICAL DOCUMENTARY.
PILATE: BUT IF YOU REMOVE THOSE DISTORTIONS, EVERYONE WILL SEE THOSE EVENTS IN YOUR LIFE FOR WHAT THEY ARE. THEY WILL *KNOW* ABOUT YOU, IN ALL THE MOST INTIMATE DETAILS.
PILATE: NOT JUST STRANGERS...BUT FRIENDS. FAMILY. THOSE YOU ARE CLOSE TO.
PILATE: THEY WOULD SEE THE THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF THAT YOU WOULD BE ASHAMED TO ADMIT.

PILATE: THINK OF THE EVENTS IN YOUR PAST THAT FILL YOU WITH REMORSE AND SHAME, EVEN TO THIS DAY.
PILATE: THINK ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT YOU WOULD BE COMFORTABLE WITH THE PEOPLE YOU HOLD IN THE HIGHEST ESTEEM
PILATE: KNOWING ABOUT SUCH...INTIMATE HISTORY
PILATE: CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY OF BEING JUDGED BY THE MASSES
PILATE: IS YOUR DESIRE TO BECOME A BETTER PERSON ABLE TO HANDLE SUCH A WEIGHT?
PILATE: OR WOULD YOU SETTLE FOR THE COMFORT OF CONFORMITY, AT THE EXPENSE OF YOUR INDIVIDUALITY?
PILATE: AFTER ALL...IT CERTAINLY WOULDN'T 'HURT' AS MUCH.

Relative to events from the past week, he had gained additional context regarding this scenario (even if he wasn't quite ready to answer HEROD's question about love)...particularly from Kensuke's 'Second Awakening' yesterday, when Ozymandias had transformed into Sinbad.

So, with the text-to-speech function on, he slowly made his answer known: "As someone who knows about the private problems of other people...as someone whose own problems are also known by many of those same people...I've come to realize that learning about these problems has allowed all of us to grow in ways we wouldn't have anticipated. Even if it was difficult, at first..." Especially because it had been difficult. "And honestly...I kind of like the person I'm becoming as a result of that...even if it's hard at times. And I think my friends like who they're becoming as well...so even if the masses would know more about the things I'm not proud of...and even if they hated me for it..." Because it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with that prospect either, given the animus against Evangelion-users by the student body at large. "...I think I'd be able to handle it...if only because I wouldn't be alone. So I would remove those distortions...fight for my 'happy ending'...and be the me I want to be."

Now it was just a matter of waiting for PILATE's inevitable counter.

It didn't take long.

PILATE: CURIOUS
PILATE: DO YOU TRULY THINK YOU COULD STOMACH THE IRE OF OTHERS?
PILATE: KNOWING THAT IN YOUR RAGE, YOU NEARLY MURDERED MANA KIRISHIMA? THAT IN YOUR DEEPEST THOUGHTS, YOU STRUGGLE WITH THE VOICE OF A RAVENOUS BEAST, AND ITS WICKED TEMPTATIONS?

Shinji's eyes widened, even as his fingers impulsively typed a response.

S. Ikari: how do you know that?
PILATE: YOU'D BE SURPRISED AT WHAT WE KNOW. DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT.
PILATE: THINK OF THOSE VOICES THAT WHISPER IN THE DEPTHS OF YOUR MIND...WOULD YOU BE COMFORTABLE LETTING SUCH A TRUTH BE KNOWN TO THE WORLD?

...okay, that'll take a bit more time...

The Other and the Beast were both silent.

Gathering his thoughts together after a full minute of introspection, he hesitantly responded, "Well...most people probably would have a bad opinion of me...but...I think I might be able to handle it..."

PILATE: NOT A LOT OF CONFIDENCE, HMM?

"It's hard to think about a hypothetical like that...there's no telling how many different reactions there would be..."

PILATE: AND YET YOU STILL THINK YOU WOULD DEFER TO THE SIDE OF STANDING AS AN INDIVIDUAL, AGAINST THE TIDE?
PILATE: YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE INDICATES A LIKELIHOOD OF OVER 65% THAT YOU WOULD SETTLE FOR THE COMFORT OF CONFORMITY AMIDST ANONYMITY.
S. Ikari: how do you know that
PILATE: YOU LACK THE EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND TO UNDERSTAND THE STATISTICAL ANALYSIS INVOLVED.

...I guess that's fair enough. Still, Shinji found himself feeling a bit...dogged. "...but I think with my friends...I'd be able to make it."

PILATE: AND IF YOU WERE ALONE?

"...but I'm not alone." For several seconds, there was no response.

PILATE: THAT IS FAIR ENOUGH.
PILATE: YOU SEEM TO HAVE BECOME MORE COGNIZANT OF YOUR OWN CHANGES, IN LIGHT OF THE CHOICES MADE BY YOURSELF AND THOSE AROUND YOU.
PILATE: CLEARLY, YOU AREN'T CLAIMING THAT THE REACTION OF THE MASSES WOULD BE 'EASY' TO DEAL WITH
PILATE: BUT YOU SEEM TO CONSIDER IT AN OBSTACLE WORTH DEALING WITH, IN LIGHT OF THE OTHER ADVANTAGES
PILATE: A SORT OF BENIGN SELFISHNESS, COMBINED WITH A MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL SYMBIOSIS
PILATE: PREFERABLE TO THE NUMBNESS OF APATHY, IT WOULD SEEM.
PILATE: YET ANOTHER PARALLEL TO OUR PRIOR SIMULATION. HOW AMUSING.

Shinji blinked. Huh?

S. Ikari: what simulation?
PILATE: NEVER YOU MIND
PILATE: THIS RESPONSE IS ACCEPTABLE ENOUGH.
PILATE: A WILLINGNESS TO ENDURE PAIN FOR THE SAKE OF A DESIRED GOAL IS THE HALLMARK OF DISCIPLINE. DELAYED GRATIFICATION, IF YOU WILL.
PILATE: ONE LAST POST-SCRIPT. YOUR RESPONSE IS MOSTLY GEARED TOWARDS THE NAMELESS MASSES.
PILATE: HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOUR FATHER KNEW OF THE BEAST?

"...well..." He honestly wondered how Gendo Ikari would react. Though...given how he's been to me...and given what else he knows...? "I think...he would feel satisfied, for some reason...I wish I knew why..."

PILATE: AH, BUT OF COURSE
PILATE: HIS ANIMUS FOR YOU IS NO SECRET
PILATE: AND IF HE WERE TO REALIZE WHAT TEMPTATIONS WAR WITHIN YOU...WE CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE SENSE OF VALIDATION HE WOULD FEEL.
PILATE: TIME WILL TELL IF YOU CAN PROVE HIM WRONG.
PILATE: END OF LINE

And just like that, the conversation was over. "...I wish I knew why you were asking these questions," murmured Shinji. How exactly are they helping me realize my place in the world...? The thought of his father felt particularly distasteful at the moment, so he opted for opening the Mission Board to take care of some Ghost subjugation assignments.

(The fact that Dr. Akagi was inevitably going to run a lot of testing on Kensuke Aida because of his Second Awakening...had nothing to do with his decision. Really.)

(Besides, it's not like you need to be at NERV for anything truly important...)

xxxx

/Gendo Ikari's Office, NERV/

"Seriously, is there a reason you keep your office so dark?!"

"Miss Sohryu-"

"No, it's a legitimate point!"

Gendo Ikari wordlessly huffed behind his hands before replying, "Personal preference, nothing more." With the monitors' light reflecting off of his glasses, Commander Ikari's eyes were invisible to Asuka Langley-Sohryu, who stood at attention within the dim confines of his office; Sister Mary Makinami stood behind and to her left, serving as a comforting presence within the man's strangely (and needlessly) intimidating workspace. "Allow me to extend a welcome to you both on behalf of the country of Japan."

Asuka resisted the urge to be snarky at the Commander of NERV, despite the fact that they'd woken up less than an hour ago to leave Nagoya (finally, that arbitrary restriction on you teleporting with the power of Evangelion is GONE). Mostly because being snarky at Mitsuru Kirijo's superior would be a bad idea. "The pleasure's ours," calmly remarked Asuka. (But damnation, why couldn't this guy turn his lights on?!) "After being on an airliner for so long, I'm ready to get to work."

"So eager, are we?"

"Am I that transparent? Being an Evangelion-user and fighting supernatural monsters is kinda my thing."

Gendo's lips quirked into a smirk. "I suppose so. I trust you won't mind the fact that you're scheduled for a meeting with the principal of Hakone Academy tomorrow?"

Asuka's expression immediately crashed into a flat stare. "...come again?"

"Part of the reason why we insist upon the First and Third Children attending school is in accordance with the Cognitive Service Act; per the terms of your contract with NERV, you are subject to the provisions of your host country's laws when it comes to matters affecting child soldiers. As far as I'm aware, Germany was not as strict with regards to mandatory schooling if the child in question was testing on a level commensurate with their peers."

Mari nodded, speaking for Asuka. "That is correct, sir. Miss Sohryu's always been the intelligent sort; Director Kirijo believed it a more efficient course to let her pursue schooling...independently."

More like I didn't have any patience for morons, she inwardly griped.

(In past years, there would be certain periods of time where she would undergo educational instruction on particular topics, usually under the tutelage of a private tutor hired by Mitsuru, or by Sister Mary Makinami herself. As time went on, she would take her chances to read ahead of her grade level's curriculum, if only so as to keep ahead of the curve. It allowed her to spend most of her time on missions...which suited her just fine. Dealing with kids was just a waste of time.)

Her Other sighed.

"Judging other children by your baseline is hardly fair. A genius can't judge average people as if they were stupid...because they're not. They're simply average."

Asuka's internal musing was interrupted by Gendo. "Be that as it may, Japan is not as lenient: the benefits of schooling with regards to the promotion of social harmony are still deemed a necessity, which is why Rei Ayanami and Shinji Ikari still attend...notwithstanding the reality that the Academy is quite tolerant of their situation whenever duty calls."

"I'm just a foreigner," she griped, her Japanese bearing a particular accent. "I'm sure I'll be more of a distraction for a bunch of horny teenagers, so I'm gonna be a net negative on any sort of 'social harmony.'"

Sister Mary lightly bopped her on the top of the head. "Now now: pride goeth before a fall."

"You know I'm right," griped Asuka.

"Leaving aside your exceptional opinion of your own appearance," What kind of crack is that?! "it is a matter that's nonnegotiable. Principal Lorenz is already aware of your situation, and will be expecting you tomorrow at 9:00 AM."

The particular surname caught her ears. "The Academy's principal is German?"

"Indeed. Keel Lorenz's office is located in the Junior High Branch, but he has authority over the entire Academy as its founder. You might find him to be a...kindred spirit, of sorts."

Asuka narrowed her eyes, unsure if the man was complimenting her, being prejudiced (because clearly all Germans are the same!), or subtly insulting her. "...we'll see. In the meantime...I feel like stretching my legs. Is there any particular part of the mainland where I can do some good?"

Commander Ikari glanced towards his left monitor, briefly fiddling with his mouse; in his orange shades, she could see the reflection of a map of Japan, laden with angry red dots. "The First Child is currently in Hokkaido, and the Third Child is apparently working on some missions north of Kyoto...so perhaps it would be best for you to focus on missions on the islands of Shikoku and Kyushu."

"That I can do," she said, whipping out her phone. "What are we doing about accommodations in the meantime?"

"I'm certain Principal Lorenz will have an appropriate dorm set aside for you; free room and board at the Academy is provided. As for your assistant..." Gendo trailed off, looking towards the religious.

Sister Mary said, "As part of my transfer, my superior negotiated with the pastor of the local parish; there is a private residence on the church grounds that used to host a small group of Carmelites before they ran afoul of Angel Syndrome last year." With a sober tone, she added, "Since then, it's only been used for storage...so I'll certainly have plenty of duties to occupy my time in the interim, between helping Miss Sohryu."

"Then I suppose you both have the rest of your day planned, then," coolly remarked Gendo. "You're dismissed, Sohryu."

FINALLY, inwardly grumbled Asuka, as she outwardly nodded before turning towards Sister Mary. "Call me if anything comes up."

"Stay safe, Miss Sohryu. If you need my assistance, don't hesitate to call me," said the religious, her silhouette barely illuminated by the ambient light cast by Gendo Ikari's computer monitors. It lent an unnerving effect that only heightened Asuka's willingness to leave.

Seriously, why not turn on the lights...?

(The strange oppressiveness finally faded as she warped away...)

xx

As Asuka faded into static before vanishing, Sister Mary turned a critical eye towards Gendo Ikari, whose reputation truly preceded him. "If I may be so bold, sir...too much darkness is bad for the eyes...and for the soul, as well."

Instead of answering as she expected — with a quip; by brushing it off; or even simply dismissing her — he cryptically answered, "If you saw me in the light of day, Makinami...I doubt you'd find me an agreeable sort."

Mari narrowed her eyes.

Then, to her horror, his lips pulled back into a toothy smile that was...sickeningly normal, yet brined with so much wicked delight that it made her recoil on a spiritual level. "Then again, if all of our faults were placed on a pedestal, for all to see...then what man alive would be deemed without sin? Do you not agree?"

"...I won't trouble you any further, Commander Ikari. May you have a blessed day." Bowing slightly, she turned on her heel, leaving the dark office behind...and, more importantly, resolving to never let Asuka be alone with him if she could help it. (The fear of base carnal desires emerging from the man didn't enter into her mind whatsoever as a possible threat.)

(No...there's a unique malice in that man...and no child deserves to face it alone.)

xxxx

The missions that Shinji had taken that morning had taken him through several areas north of Kyoto: moving through Tsuruga, Mihama, Wakasa, Obama, Takahama, and Maizuru, he had dispersed close to two hundred Ghosts in quick succession.

(Moving so swiftly, without stopping...had filled him with determination...)

For some strange reason, despite the relatively small number of Ghosts per location...their durability was becoming far more noticeable. Where will it end, he mused; standing upon the tiny Cape Bakuchi Lighthouse to the north of the mouth of Maizuru Bay, the churning waters of the Sea of Japan filled him with an unusual sensation. With everything that's happening...how much longer can Japan endure...? There was no telling if Ghosts could be completely destroyed...in fact, given the nature of reality, it was more than likely that after long enough, the echoes of their spiritual energy could reform, to be summoned by the Angels once more. And the Acolytes...how much more can people withstand...? Sighing, Shinji resolved to try and clear his mind. Well...I'm kind of close...

xxxx

/Minutes later/

Sojiro Sakura blinked at the sight walking through his cafe door. "What are you doing here, boy?"

Shinji Ikari scratched at the back of his head. "Um...I was just in the area," if by area one meant a hundred kilometers away, "and was wondering if I could have lunch before I move on..."

His old custodian chuckled, lips curling into an amused smile. "Well, I certainly won't turn you down...if you can pay."

"Oh, I can pay-"

Sojiro blinked. "-wait, I was just trying to joke, you don't-"

"Sakura-sensei...I can pay. You've done a lot for me," quietly insisted Shinji, even while he checked his account balance with NERV on his phone. "Even if it's just a plate of curry and a cup of coffee...I can at least pay back this much."

"...well, if you're going to be a grown-up about it, I suppose I can't say no," remarked Sojiro with a satisfied smile; as he handed over drinks and plates to older customers that had already paid, he asked, "What'll it be?"

As Shinji relayed his order, he walked along the edge of the bar counter, quietly basking in a smell that he had already come to miss. "...have you been okay since we left, Sakura-sensei?"

"Eh, same old, same old: watching the world go crazy all around me," he griped. As his hands expertly crafted a sweet coffee beverage, he added, "The only thing that was really unusual was the crazed psycho that took me hostage."

Shinji's brain all but shut down. "...eh? What? When?"

Sojiro briefly gazed back at him, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm...guess Katsuragi and Sakamoto didn't tell you. I suppose it's fair enough, since I wasn't physically harmed..." His expression must have been on the verge of panicked disbelief, because the man quickly added, "Anyhow...it happened on the day after you all left for Tokyo-2...what a sorry mess that whole thing was..."

As Sojiro briefly explained what had happened on August the 22nd, Shinji's eyes went wide. "Tohru Adachi...he was the one who held you hostage?"

"No telling how long he would have held me had Katsuragi and Sakamoto not shown up...a real screw loose, that one." Shaking his head, Sojiro handed Shinji a pristine mug of caffeinated ambrosia and a plate of spicy goodness. "I wasn't physically harmed, so I think I came out well...so don't worry about me. Just eat up."

It was easier said than done; grabbing a spare table, Shinji scrolled through his older messages, finding one text of Misato's that now stuck out in retrospect. "They ran into a 'slight' delay when picking up their vehicles," he muttered to himself. "Was that what the delay was...?" Why hadn't they said anything?

The Beast snorted.

"You're one to talk about withholding information..."

His Other calmly flipped a coin, catching it in his palm.

"Would it have mattered? Your sensei came out unharmed. Why trouble you further, given everything else on your plate?"

It was possible...that it wouldn't have amounted to anything. But why would someone like Adachi get involved with Sakura-sensei? It couldn't just be because of me, would it...? The possibility was so likely that it sent him into a spot of 'distress eating'; fortunately, Sojiro Sakura's food was both tasty enough and nostalgic enough to distract him...at least for a time.

(The aroma of Sojiro's coffee, and the tangy taste of his curry...were quite invigorating...)

He was about halfway finished — his senses idly observing as other customers came and went during what amounted to a 'lunch rush' for the tiny village — when a new customer pulled up in the empty chair across from him. "Hope you don't mind; the other tables are full."

Shinji raised his head to tell the man he didn't mind, only to stop before a single syllable could slip out. "...you're..." He had seen this man before; not in the flesh...but he had seen this face on a Shadow before. "...Kaji-san...?"

Ryoji Kaji smiled. "Mah, my reputation must truly precede me..."

Shinji didn't know what to think. Fortunately, his mouth was quick to fill the void. "Misato-san's been looking for you."

"I gathered," mildly remarked the man, even as he swallowed a spoonful of curry. "Mmm. The oldtimer knows his stuff. My compliments to the chef."

"...Misato-san's been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, she's always known that I'm at the Melon Patch; I just had to go on a little trip for a time."

Casually evasive, yet...knowingly so. In the light of day, he could easily make out the differences between the man and his Shadow; the stubble and the hairstyle were the same; however, without the yellow eyes and bullet wound between the man's eyes...Shinji could finally grasp just how melancholy his expression was, even in spite of his grin. 'Misery with a smile', it seemed to say. "Not like that; she's been looking for you because she wants the truth...whatever that may be."

Kaji chuckled. "Ah, now isn't that an important question? The kind that'll drive certain men mad..."

Shinji took a stiff drink of coffee, invigorating himself for the words about to come out of his mouth. "Kaji-san...what little I know of you, I've learned from Misato-san...and I don't know all the reasons why you split up from her...but she still cares about you. A lot."

"Is that so?"

"After she read the note you left at your bar...she drank. A lot...I had to call a taxi to help her get home."

The man's eyes glittered with a strange knowing, as though he had expected that answer. "Strange, the things we refuse to let go of...even if they keep us from changing, and moving forward." After taking another bite of curry, Kaji looked at him with mild eyes that seemed strangely sharp yet soft: a paradox, in truth. "You ever struggle with that, kid? About wanting to be something different, fighting every step of the way to get to that point, to get to what you want...and yet you always seem to find yourself back at where you started?"

...huh. "Yes," he admitted.

Kaji nodded, taking a small sip of his own cup of black ambrosia, with not even a hint of cream or sugar in it. "After a while, trying to change feels like going through the motions...or putting on a performance. A falsehood to appease others...a mask to hide one's own faults. At that point, why keep pretending? It'd be best to just focus on the things within your control...what little that may be...and spare others from the pain your own existence brings."

Shinji truly didn't know what to make of this sudden bout of pessimism and seeming self-doubt. He would've thought the man may have hated himself...had it not felt strangely hollow. (After all, you know more than most what self-loathing sounds like.) "...and is this another performance, Kaji-san?"

"...surprisingly sharp, for a kid." Kaji smirked between bites of rice and spicy meat. "I like that; it means you at least have some understanding of who you are. Of what you can do. Of what choices you can make. Even if you don't understand yourself completely...something is better than nothing."

"And what about you?" asked Shinji, trying to get at the core of who this strange and mysterious man was; if nothing else, it would give him insight into the person who could still cause Misato such pain after all these years. "Do you understand who you are?"

"...more than I care to, admittedly. But that's honestly besides the point: I just wanted to give you a little tip." Downing the last of his coffee, Kaji remarked, "My Shadow is trying to get some intel on where the less 'savory' types are headed; after that big jailbreak from that Metaverse prison in the far north of Russia...well, there are certain kinds of people who would just love to wreak havoc. And because of the confidentiality of that old prison, the exact records of whose Shadows were kept there may be hard to come by, especially since the facility was destroyed. But their presence can be...'felt', if you know what to look for. My Shadow has...a specialty, in snooping around. So every so often, you might find my Other Self sending you warnings about where dangerous Shadows might be. Sound good?"

"...but why? Why leave Tokyo-3 just for that?"

"My reasons for leaving Tokyo-3 are...a bit more personal than that. I just wanted to take the opportunity to give you another chance to...prove yourself. Another crucible...and another chance to help people. It's a win-win, wouldn't you say?"

"...um...thanks, I guess?" This is not what I was expecting. "But...none of that gets to what I want to know. Why are you so intent on staying away from Misato-san? Don't...don't you love her?"

This particular question seemed to hit the man in a different place than the others, because his smile lost a bit of that morose edge. "I couldn't stop loving her even if I wanted to. And that's why I have to stay away."

But that didn't make any sense! "But why?"

"Because eventually...she gets too close. She always does. And like Icarus, her wings burn...and she ends up plummeting a long way down..." Scooping up the last of his curry, the man stood up with a satisfied expression, even though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Such is my nature, I suppose...to always be the one that Misato can't let go of. If I were a free man, I'd probably resent her...but I'd probably forgive her anyway."

Shinji blinked with genuine confusion. "...what are you talking about...?"

"I suppose you'll understand, one day. I just have to keep moving..." The man nodded in his direction before walking away.

Before he could get out of earshot, Shinji rose to his feet. "Kaji-san. If Misato asks...I will tell her what we talked about. I...I don't want to lie to her again, if I can help it."

The man, looking like a disheveled salaryman, simply shrugged, without so much as looking back. "Then I guess you're on your way to being a better man than me...maybe you're already better than I ever was...but who's to know?" With his piece said, Ryoji Kaji left the restaurant.

Shinji watched the door with a strange intensity, wondering what precisely had driven Kaji to do the things he did. Seconds later, Sakura-sensei took advantage of the brief lull in custom to grab Kaji's empty plate and mug. "Odd character," mused the older man. "Who was he?"

"...someone who has a history with Misato Katsuragi," he answered.

Sojiro's nose curled with vague unease. "Uh-huh. He looked like the troublesome sort."

"...maybe," Shinji murmured, nonetheless feeling like he had some insight into who Ryoji Kaji was...

xxxx

After leaving Nishiawakura (complete with a thermos full of Sakura-sensei's special brew), Shinji returned to Tokyo-3; a brief text message from Toji convinced him to head towards Misato's apartment. As for the reason why...

"...I'm dead...completely and utterly dead..."

...well, Kensuke's utterly exhausted appearance might have had something to do with that. "...what happened?" asked Shinji.

Toji grunted, idly chewing on some rice crackers while Mana poked and prodded at the groaning Kensuke. "Apparently, Dr. Akagi really wanted to put him through the ringer today once she found out he had 'enlightened' his Persona."

"Awakened," impulsively corrected Shinji.

"Whatever, you know what I mean," griped the track jock. "And you know who was all too willing to volunteer to be turn Ken into a test dummy?"

"That'd be one Katsuragi," remarked Mana.

Shinji blinked, wondering why Toji and Mana sounded so resigned about that. "Why would that be a problem?"

As Kensuke loosed another groan of despair and agony, Toji decided to explain. "See, here's how it went down..."

xxxx

/Earlier that Morning/

/Training Room Two, NERV/

"I'm not exactly sure how in the world you of all people managed to experience a Second Awakening," dryly remarked Dr. Akagi, her utter vexation and bewildering coming across the intercom with perfect clarity. "But fortunately, someone wanted to work off some steam for free, so who was I to deny her?"

Kensuke Aida looked nervously at Misato Katsuragi, who was standing several feet in front of him with a...far too happy smile on her face. "...why?"

"Because a certain someone left a certain disc with an encryption protocol that's been a right bastard to break through, and my patience is on the verge of running out," sweetly explained Misato. "Fortunately, testing out the combat ability of a greenhorn is just what the doctor ordered."

"...m'not a greenhorn," Kensuke impulsively muttered.

"With a new Persona, with abilities you're not used to? You might as well be." Slapping a hand onto his shoulder, Misato's smile was just cherubic enough to come off as genuinely terrifying. "You'll be just fine. I'll make sure Tokoyo goes easy on you~"

With wide eyes, Kensuke glanced towards where the observation cameras were. "Dr. Akagi, I need an adult!"

"I am an adult," easily answered Misato.

"That's debatable."

"Nobody asked you, Ritsky!"

Before Kensuke could escape, he was pulled into the Metaverse.

xxxx

"...and that's how it started," finished Toji, nudging at Kensuke with his toe. "They made Mana-san, Yamagishi-san, and me watch from an observation room in the Metaverse. To get an idea of what his new fighting style would be, you know?"

Kensuke moaned piteously.

"A shame he doesn't have a lot of stamina," muttered Mana. "At least Katsuragi got something out of it."

Toji huffed. "I'd hate to meet the poor bastard that got her in that sort of rotten mood."

...somehow, I think I know who she might have been referring to, mused Shinji with a grimace. "Did Misato-san hurt him?"

"It was just a tough training session," said Mana without a hint of hesitation. "Kinda like what Zenkichi Hasegawa or Ryuji Sakamoto would do. Except one-on-one. In a very concentrated dose."

"End my suffering," groaned Kensuke.

"...so, how does your new Persona do in battle?" asked Shinji, trying to move to a less uncomfortable tangent.

Fortunately, Kensuke was all too happy to oblige. "You know how Ozy was all about the Ailment Skills? Well, Sinbad takes that concept with an offensive twist: all of my skills, save two, cause some kind of Ailment...including those that are relatively uncommon, as far as the average Archetype goes."

"You'd think he'd be happier with having special abilities," griped Toji.

"Not when I don't have the offensive oomph to back them up," counter-griped Kensuke, who slowly sat up. Scratching at his abdomen, the bespectacled boy continued, "but it still gives me a lot of options...options that'll be pretty neat to use in an actual battle..." Kensuke's voice trailed off, realizing that Shinji had moved into the kitchen. "Shinji?"

"Just a moment, please." After several more seconds, a microwave went ding; Shinji promptly pulled out a mug with steaming coffee, which he promptly poured a certain amount of cream and sugar into. "I was at Sakura-sensei's earlier today, after completing my missions," he explained, walking back into the living room. "I might as well put my thermos full of coffee to good use," he remarked, handing it towards Kensuke.

The boy's eyes glimmered. "A cup o'joe from Sojiro Sakura? Don't mind if I do." The young man swiped the mug, eagerly sipping from the rejuvenating ambrosia. "Ah...I can feel the tiredness melting away~"

Shinji, empathizing with his friend's satisfaction, screwed the top back onto his thermos. "After our time in Nishiawakura, I think we may have gotten spoiled by his pick-me-ups after training..."

With Kensuke on the mend, Shinji briefly poked his head down the hall to Mayumi's room, where the door was open; glancing at the stacks of books which were slowly but surely being organized, he asked, "Do...you need help, Yamagishi-san?"

The long-haired girl briefly looked over her shoulder, her hands preoccupied with with multiple pamphlets. Blinking rapidly, she broke out of an apparent trance, muttering, "Oh. Um...I appreciate the offer, Ikari-san. But I'm fine. I'm kind of...on a roll, I guess you'd say...?"

"...okay then." With his offer having been made, he immediately turned around and walked through the living room, towards the sliding door that led to Misato's room. "Um...Misato-san...?"

"Come on in, kiddo."

Nervously, he shifted open the sliding door, gazing into the woman's room; for some reason, he had expected a scene of carefully contained chaos: a proverbial monument to slovenliness and a tribute to slobs everywhere. (Why would he think that...?) Instead, it was a room which was...well, definitely lived-in. There was evidence that some junk had been stuffed into the shelves of her drawers and closet...but otherwise, it came off as merely 'somewhat messy' instead of 'an utter pigsty'. (Seriously, why are you expecting that...?) The room's owner was sitting on the floor, perched in front of an old laptop whilst the news played on an even older CRT television further ahead of her. Her hair was done up in a messy ponytail, which fit in paradoxically well with the yellow tank top and blue pajama shorts. "...Misato-san?"

"I honestly don't know why Kaji thought this was an effective means of encrypting his disc," she muttered, angrily gesturing at the screen, which showed...an animation of a seven-by-seven Rubik's cube.

"...huh?"

"See, here's the thing: unlocking the panels so they can slide wasn't the difficult part. It was all based on trivia of my life...what I know of his life...and of our time together. I got every single square unlocked after two days of...thinking." Angrily sipping at a water bottle, she added, "But this has been a right bastard!"

"...why would he put it into a Rubik's cube...?"

"Because of a damn in-joke," she griped, irritably scratching at her scalp. "Just because I could easily solve a three-by-three cube while drunk at the college bar doesn't mean I can solve this shit while sober." After a few seconds, she added, "Sorry for cussing," with an embarrassed grumble.

Strangely enough, that wasn't what he picked up on. "...you went to college?" he wondered.

"...yeah. Is it that surprising?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder with an odd stare.

"Oh. Um...well, it's just that, with all your stories, I thought you went into the Anti-Terror Task Force...shortly after your father died, when you were a teenager."

"I did. But our society still values education; at least the technical college I was sent to specialized in courses that were relevant to my desired job...especially the ones about law in relation to cognitive affairs. And the classes were spaced far enough apart that I could still keep training with the Task Force...and the college was adjacent to the New Imperial University at Tokyo-2, which is where I ended up meeting both Ritsky and Kaji...so it was pretty important..." The woman trailed off, gazing around her room with a melancholy expression. "...'course, that college is probably dead in every way that counts now, after the Fog of Desolation...the university probably is, too..."

When awkward silence filled the air, Shinji spoke the first thing that came to mind in order to break it. "I ran into Kaji-san, earlier today." When Misato immediately glared at him, he resisted the urge to flee. Why do I say things...?

"...is that so? Mind filling me in?"

Shinji promptly explained what had happened earlier that day when he had stopped in Nishiawakura. By the time his tale was finished, Misato's face had set into a mask of stoic determination. "...what are you hiding...?" she muttered to herself, promptly turning back to her laptop. With renewed determination, she clicked at her laptop keyboard, which translated into the animated Rubik's cube changing and shifting and rotating. Whatever frustration had been plaguing her earlier had been smothered by cold focus. It was somewhat mesmerizing, watching the woman methodically work at solving the cubical puzzle.

Finally, after an hour...the cube was solved. Moments later, a folder popped open on the screen without prompting. "Finally," hissed Misato, delving into the files with purpose and intent.

Shinji, who had been watching Misato work away at the colorful computer-animated cube with rapt attention, blinked with surprise. "...what is it? What's on the disc?"

"...something that I actually wouldn't mind thanking Kaji for," mused Misato, gazing at an image file: it depicted a map of Tochigi Prefecture, with a small dot centered at an area near Mt. Nyoho. "It's the location of the genetics research facility that he rescued Pen-Pen from all those years ago." A hard expression overshadowed Misato's face. "Good...good. Finally, a lead..."

"A lead for what, Misato-san...?" asked Shinji.

In response to his question, Misato looked towards the corner of her room; Shinji followed her gaze, finally noticing a certain penguin. Pen-Pen was perched upon a rolled-up futon, quietly napping. "I know that Akechi-kun confirmed for me that Mister P and Pen-Pen aren't the same...but part of me can't help but wonder. The similarity keeps digging at me...maybe Mister P's an aspect born from Pen-Pen, or maybe whatever experiments that were done on him brought an actual part of his cognition to life...? I don't know. But I need to get some answers." With a grin, she said aloud, "Ain't that right, buddy?"

Pen-Pen suddenly jolted, rolling off of the bundle of bedding and landing smack on the tatami. The penguin rose with a confused blink, shaking himself into alertness. "Wark?"

"Yeah, I'll be going back to your old 'home'; I gotta find out about whatever those guys did to you!" Looking back at Shinji, she then made an offer. "I'd like you to come with me, tomorrow."

"Me?"

"Yeah; I'll be bringing Mana-chan and Mayumi-chan as well, but I have no idea what the place will look like in the Metaverse...safety in numbers, neh?"

"...well, I don't see why not..." Shinji's voice trailed off, his eyes widening with shock. "...what...?"

Misato blinked, following his line of sight; on the television, the news had suddenly switched to a live feed from Europe, depicting an Italian town; an aerial photo of a medieval palace was marred by the sight of yellow fog, dissipating into nothingness under the light of the morning sun. The chyron running underneath the news feed read: 'Fog anomaly sighted at the Papal Palace of Castel Gandolfo.' "Wait...why is the yellow fog appearing there...why would Tohru Adachi go all the way to Italy...?"

Before Shinji could even ponder those questions, the feed switched to a stern newscaster. "We have breaking news..."

xxxx

/Hours Earlier/

/The Papal Palace of Castel Gandolfo, 25 kilometers southeast of Rome, Italy/

As the morning sun was rolling over Japan, the darkness of night still dominated Europe.

At the traditional summer residence of the Roman Pontiff, the man himself — Taro Namatame, better known as Pope Thomas — was doing a spot of late-night reading from a religious journal, with various articles written by Dominican theologians on matters of history, current events, certain matters still open to theological debate, and — most importantly, in his eyes — the most recent advances in spiritual exercises dedicated to refining control over one's A.T. Field.

He should have been in bed hours ago...but for some reason, insomnia had struck. Despite attempting to distract himself, and despite his prayers for peace of mind...he had found himself unable to sleep. There was a sense of unease in the back of his mind; he had not felt such a sensation since...the day of Second Impact, when Old Tokyo had been ravaged.

What was the source of so wretched a feeling? Where was this grim foreboding coming from...?

Before he could fathom it further, his old eyes finally noticed it: mist the color of saffron, goldenrod, and mustard was leaking into his quarters. A distinct sensation — otherworldly, touching on the boundary of both spirit and mind — overshadowed him, forcing him to his feet. As he did so...a stranger opened the door to his bedroom.

"Still up, eh?" said the Japanese man, looking like a rather unkempt salaryman; however, his face had become one of the most notorious in the world since the events of August the 21st. "I'm touched."

"...Tohru Adachi," murmured Namatame, speaking in his native Japanese. "Did you hurt any of the guards?"

Adachi snorted. "Sneaking past 'em was easy. They didn't even realize I was here...and they won't know until I'm long gone, either."

"Is that a fact?"

"Tokyo-2 was all about sending a message...and helping out some unlucky saps, so the more collateral damage, the better. But this...is just for me. No need to take it out on those unlucky schmucks in the red, blue, and yellow uniforms," he said, referring to the Swiss Guard. With a smirk, Adachi added, "Though, if I were caught in that kind of outfit, I'd wish I were dead."

"So your animus is only against me? How...considerate for a mass murderer."

The lunatic chuckled, amused by his comment. "Eh, I only killed one guy in Tokyo-2. Mankind's rampant cognition killed the rest."

"Moral sophistry," Namatame retorted, feeling for the sensation of Kunino-sagiri in the seat of his thoughts and will. "...but it's not too late. God's grace is available even for one who has done such heinous crimes; if you are willing to repent-"

"A hard pass on that," interrupted Adachi; behind him, the hazy image of a multi-colored eye flickered in and out of his perception. "Got nothing to be sorry for, after all."

"...a poor choice, then." Wincing at his own tiredness, the Pope asked, "Why are you here?"

"It's a strange thing, how circumstances can change a person's outcome so drastically...compared to how I remember, you're practically living the high life." To punctuate his point, Adachi knocked over a hanging picture of the angels of Heaven, one that was centuries old. The wooden frame broke under its own weight on the ground. "And that's just so damn funny to me."

Namatame narrowed his eyes. "I do not recall meeting you before. Have I wronged you, in some way?"

"Nope. Nothin' that you did. But you sure did wrong by a lot of people, in your little self-righteous crusade...still makes me laugh, thinking about it." The man ran a hand through his hair, barely masking the deranged enjoyment in his eyes. "And yet, you're kind of a swell, 'upstanding' guy...yet you never got a bond with the brat. And that's why you languish, adrift in a sea of memory...while I get to remember everything, even though we were both picked by that stinkin' Angel to be their experimental plaything. That's just hysterical."

"You speak nonsense." Namatame inhaled deeply, filling his mind with thoughts to reinforce his self-image — You are the Roman Pontiff, the Bishop of Rome; you are Pope Thomas, visible head of the Catholic Church; you cannot be brought down by this scoundrel — before continuing, "I kindly ask that you turn yourself in to the authorities, so that you may be justly judged for the wrongs you have done."

"...yeah, no."

"Then I will have to subdue you," he vowed, silently summoning Kunino-sagiri. The very space around them seemed to distort, making way for the pious Persona. They were truly in the Metaverse, it seemed...yet also in a realm where the spirit touched on everything as well? "Pray, forgive me if I harm you unduly."

Adachi smirked. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that...it always felt like a shame, letting you take the fall. Can you imagine how much of a tizzy those kids would have been in, if their lead suspect had ended up dead, hanging from a television pole? Man, it would have been a sight..."

"Your delusions will not confuse me," stated Pope Thomas, manifesting a rod with a triple-barred cross at its head: his weapon of choice, in the Metaverse. "With the prayers of the Church, the intentions of the faithful, and the protection of the Heavenly Host...I will not let your wickedness continue!"

His words only made the man laugh, even as his Persona — a warrior bubbling with crimson hate and dark malice, wielding a wicked naginata — manifested at his side. "Trust me, ya geezer: if you'd actually seen the Angels in person...you'd think twice about calling for their help. Mangle him, Magatsu-Izanagi!"

The battle was joined...and over the subsequent hours, the strange properties of the fog kept the battle confined to the Pope's personal quarters, even though the size of their Personas rendered such an endeavor an impossibility. Alas, in a realm dominated by mind and spirit, physicality often gave way to the limits of imagination and willpower.

Taro Namatame fought with surprising vigor, in spite of his advanced age...yet he was an old man, against a young and vigorous whelp (whose mind had seen and retained far more than Namatame could even recall...not that he knew this). Furthermore, whatever patron empowered Adachi, it rendered him all but invulnerable.

Hence...it was no surprise, that as morning began to dawn in Italy, Namatame was on the ground, leaning against his shattered bed frame; blood ran down his right eye from a severe cut on his forehead, joining the numerous other cuts he had suffered along his limbs. He didn't even want to imagine what the bruises along his body must have looked like, hidden as they were by his white cassock.

Adachi, looking perky as ever, knelt down in front of him, smirking with satisfaction. "Not gonna lie: I'd heard you were a pretty big deal, but you actually weren't half bad! I didn't even hold back as much against you like I did with Morooka."

"...what is the point of your gloating," wearily asked Namatame, quietly reflecting upon the fate of his very soul: the importance of the moment, the weight of his own existence. "What does it provide, other than a means to indulge in your own pride and hubris...?"

"Can't take a compliment, huh?" Adachi clutched at his thin hair, painfully twisting it. "Tell me something: if your life led to a pathetic, shitty end like this...then what was the point of it all?"

Namatame coughed. "...spoken like a nihilist...with no understanding of value..." Looking up at the younger (older?) man, he quietly reached up for the man's tie, wearily grabbing at the red fabric. "Suffering can have worth in and of itself, if united with those of our Lord...and good things can come from misfortunes, from calamities, and even from the works of evil men...so tell me, Tohru Adachi: what good things will you leave behind? Even when heaven and earth have passed away...what will you be remembered for, in the eyes of eternity...?"

For some reason, that question actually removed the smile from Adachi's face. Without aplomb, the man removed a revolver — a Nambu Model 60 — from the inner pocket of his jacket. "Who the hell cares? You're going to be remembered as a bitch who died alone; no fancy funeral is gonna change that."

"...I am never alone, you poor fool," murmured Namatame, focusing on his hand (at the extension of his body, at the perimeter of his ego barrier...!)...and pressing it feebly against his assailant's chest. "Hopefully, you'll come to realize that...may you come to know true Peace, while you still have a chance...AMEN."

"What are you-?"

For the first time in their encounter, Pope Thomas unleashed his A.T. Field.

With a velocity that was shocking in both speed and surprise, Tohru Adachi was catapulted through the window and out of his quarters, sailing over Lake Albano to the immediate east of the Papal Palace.

Namatame sighed, slumping over on the ground; the yellow fog that had surrounded his quarters was already beginning to fade, bereft of Adachi's strange presence. "I think...I'll rest, now..." he whispered, even as he heard frantic Italian shouting from outside the broken window...

xxxx

/Present Day/

/Misato's Apartment, Tokyo-3/

"...Pope Thomas has been found in his summer residence, severely wounded from an apparent battle. He's in critical condition; more details are forthcoming..."

Misato scowled. "What the hell does Adachi have against the Pope?"

Shinji frowned, wondering what would come of this. "I...don't know..."

(At that moment, elsewhere in the city: Sister Mary Makinami, in the midst of cleaning out a domicile on church grounds, dropped her broom out of shock, as news of Pope Thomas's condition echoed over an old radio...)

(At that moment, in Kyushu: Asuka Langley-Sohryu was unleashing Unit-02 against an Acolyte, too focused on the rush of combat and the weight of her duty to care about world events...)

xxxx

Tohru Adachi grimaced, rubbing at his chest. "Aw, dammit. That hurt..." He had landed on the forested shores on the other side of the lake bordering the Papal Palace, which were mercifully empty at this time of morning. "Fat lot of help you were."

The Angel of the Sky idly burned above.

"YOU WERE DOING FINE," growled the sky. "BESIDES, YOU ARE ALIVE AND UNHARMED."

The almighty eye peered intently at him.

"AM I TO BLAME FOR YOUR LAPSE IN JUDGMENT?"

"Tch. Stupid technicalities..." Brushing himself off, Adachi pocketed his gun — grateful that he hadn't dropped it during his impromptu flight — before gazing at the silhouette of the old Italian castle on the western shore; already alarms could be heard, even over a mile away. "Eh...it'll cause enough of a tizzy anyhow."

"ARE YOU GOING TO GO BACK AND VISIT YOUR PROMISED DESTRUCTION UPON HIM?"

Adachi snorted. "An old-timer like him, he'll keel over before long after a beating like that...besides, he'll be surrounded with guards by now. I'd have to kill 'em to get to Namatame."

"AND YOU SUDDENLY CARE FOR THEIR WELFARE?"

"Pfft, as if. But I gave my word: it was just between me and Namatame."

The Angel's eye narrowed with confusion.

"YOUR MORAL CODE IS BIZARRE."

Adachi smirked, adjusting his tie. "So I've been told...anyhow. I'm hungry. Let's stop at some podunk place before heading back to Japan..." Two down...one to go.

Then, he could finally begin his next game.

xxxx

END OF 9/1/2015

xxxx

Author's Note: ...well, at least Namatame *survived* against Adachi. That's something, at least!

Justice is at Rank 6, whilst Hanged Man is at Rank 2.

/another bit of trivia
/although the Papal Palace at Castel Gandolfo is currently used as a public museum since the time of Francis
/it was used as a summer residence and vacation retreat by Benedict XVI and many of his predecessors
/going back to 1596, when it was acquired by the Vatican
/so I figured Taro Namatame would use it similarly, given it would have more a small-town feel than Rome would during the summer months