Shin Persona Evangelion

by Ultra Sonic 007

Shinji Ikari stared, bewildered by the bizarre-looking man, who gave an intrigued smile. "An interesting guest has arrived. My name is Igor. Welcome to the Velvet Room, young fool...we have important matters to discuss, you and I." (A fusion of the realms of Evangelion and Persona, where not all is as it seems.) (Cover art by Renu of the Sufficient Velocity forums.)

68. Saturday - August 8, 2015

Sokila was drawing a picture of the Feathermen.

"They seemed pretty cool..."

She looked towards her fellow Attendants, eyes sparkling with light.

"Do you think we can do those things?"

Elizabeth clapped her hands together. "It sounds splendiferous!"

Theo blinked. "I'm not sure that's how you use that word-"

Lavenza slapped her fist onto her open palm. "I believe we would be able to pull it off."

Theo frowned. "But I believe we're supposed to have at least five girls for the main team, and we only have four-"

Elizabeth retorted, "I have a uniform for you that will fix that problem!"

"Eh?!" sputtered Theo.

Margaret sighed. "This is all very silly..."

"Think of the poses~" enunciated Elizabeth.

"Yeah, the posies!" (incorrectly) repeated Sokila.

"..." Almost robotically, Margaret turned towards her sole brother. "On second thought, this would be an excellent exercise in cooperation."

Theo sighed, already resigned to yet another spat of hijinks as Elizabeth dragged him away to play dress-up.

The faint haze of blue began to brighten-

xxxx

/Saturday: August 8, 2015/

/Sojiro Sakura's Residence, Nishiawakura, Okayama Prefecture/

Shinji Ikari grimaced at the sensation of a furry animal sleeping on his head. "Enkai-chan..."

The gray Scottish Fold purred, as if expecting that to assuage him.

Shinji sighed (because of course it did), wondering if it was possible to borrow the cat's ability to not care about what others thought of him. (Because it honestly would have been useful...)

xxxx

/Meanwhile, somewhere in the Metaverse/

Within the confines of a dark forest, replete with tunnels in the ground that seemingly went nowhere, Mister P sat patiently. At his side was a scarred fox wearing a red apron, the winged Shiba Inu known as Koromaru, and the blue bear clad in the red costume known as Teddie.

The realistic-looking bear held up its cartoonish hand puppet of a doppelganger, which said, "how much longer do we have to wait? This place gives me the creepy-pawlies!"

"We have to wait for our compatriots, of course. They have to be kept in the loop," answered the buff bird-man.

"Yip!" agreed the fox.

"Arf arf!" chorused Koromaru, his angelic wings twitching with nervous tension.

The giant blue bear sighed, huffing in a manner evoking an irritated grizzly...before his tan snout suddenly turned towards the edge of the tiny clearing. "I think they're here..." chirped the hand puppet.

Out of one cluster of bushes emerged Goro Akechi, looking distinctly irritated. "Your designated 'meeting' spots are horrible. Why do they always give me a headache?"

"It simply means that you're not patient enough! Follow the path and you'll do fine."

"And your 'path' takes too long. Unlike you, I actually have a job that people are expecting me to show up to," he snidely said.

"Ah, such a responsible young boy..." remarked the second newcomer, stepping out from behind a tall, shadowy pine: none other than the Shadow of Ryoji Kaji. "Well, aren't we all being discreet and secretive today?"

"With my keeper's sudden departure from Tokyo-3, this presented the best opportunity for us all to coordinate," explained Mister P. "Now...we just have to wait for our last compatriot."

"I still would very much like a chance to actually meet Marie in person, one of these days," groused Akechi. "If nothing else, having greater context from the mind of an actual Angel would be useful."

"Sorry, I think Arael would just melt your brain for being too much of a meanie," retorted Teddie's hand puppet.

"Yip!"

"Arf!"

"I think they have your number," joked Kaji's Shadow.

The A.T. Agent huffed, choosing not to say anything else.

Finally, there was a subtle shift in the air, as a melodious voice spoke aloud. "How nostalgic...but we don't have time to waste on pleasantries..." The voice concentrated downward, becoming more grounded, less grandiose. "...let's be quick about this."

Mister P nodded gravely, knowing exactly what would soon unfold...and yet having no choice but to accept it, because it was their best hand that they could play at this juncture. "Very well, Morgana."

And so this unlikely cabal planned and prepared for the next stage in their struggle against the Angels, the Usurper, and — sadly — the darkness of humanity, always present to muck things up when one least expected it...

xxxx

A decision had been made, that morning.

("So, here's the plan..." stated Misato, arms crossed with a palpable aura of authority...which Sojiro Sakura completely ignored as he quietly handed coffee and tea to those who were already awake. "We need to make sure we're in a position to easily help with Strega. But we also need a plausible excuse to be in Okayama. And that's where the boys' serendipitous roommate comes in!")

It was why Junpei Iori was driving the Toyota HiAce, with Ryuji Sakamoto in the passenger seat.

("Sorry to say Sakamoto, but your motorcycle is pretty damn distinctive." Ryuji did not dispute Misato's point. "But a HiAce, by comparison, is pretty damn common. So if we're trying to slip under the radar, you're gonna have to leave the bike behind.")

Ren Amamiya had been told to remain behind.

("There are some obscure loopholes in our charter that allow A.T. Agents to commandeer vehicles...that's what we'll do," explained Misato. "So don't worry Amamiya; your driving record won't be impacted if the rental ends up getting totalled," she said with a cheeky grin.)

Sitting in the seats behind them were three boys: Shinji Ikari, Kensuke Aida, and Toji Suzuhara.

("I don't want Mana-chan to go," Misato flatly said. "Even if it's less likely, why increase the chances of enemy action making a play for both Shinji-kun and Mana-chan at the same time? Besides..." She looked over at the young girl, a complicated expression flickering across her face. "...I don't want to give Niijima-san another reason to complain.")

Thus had the members of the 'Okayama Team' been decided.

("Amada-san can stay back because he's still...'recovering'," Misato said with a barely-disguised chuckle, alluding to the lower back injury that had quickly become a subject of much humor among the adults. "And I can be here to help keep an eye on things in case anything...unusual happens. I mean, Strega's already targeted this place once, haven't they?")

"So...who is Nagisa-kun fighting?" asked Shinji.

"Not a clue," answered Kensuke.

"Some poor schmuck, that's who," groused Toji. "As weird as he is, Nagisa's pretty damn tough."

"...wanna bet on how many rounds it'll take?" asked Kensuke with a grin.

"It depends on whether or not Nagisa will play with his opponent or not," murmured Toji. "...but I bet Nagisa will finish it in one round."

"Since we're gonna be there? I bet he'll want to make a show out of it. Third round, definitely."

Meanwhile, up front, a particular interview was playing over the radio.

"-joining us next is a member of the National Olympic Committee, Mamoru Hayase. Thank you for agreeing to come on today," said the female radio host.

"My pleasure," confidently responded another man.

Ryuji blinked. "...Hayase...isn't that Rio's husband?"

Junpei nodded. "Ken's met him more than me." If only by proxy of being the husband for someone involved with Featherman Z, it went unsaid.

"Hayase-san, Japan has performed rather well so far relative to past Summer Olympics, with thirty-nine medals earned so far. As these Olympic games are winding down, what are your thoughts on the preparations our country has done for these events?"

"Well, I'd like to make the same point I made to my darling Rio-chan when she and her fellows travelled through Okayama just this past week-"

The radio host interjected, "as part of their annual Featherman Z tour, I take it? Their promotional performance leading into the games of August the 5th were quite spectacular."

"Indeed!" laughed Mamoru. "I can only imagine the boost that gave our athletes! But as I said to my wife after that: any and all preparations don't mean a thing unless you have the courage to step onto the field. In the face of a rather harrowing year thus far for our country — and indeed, the entire world — I can only give our Olympians a stirring round of applause for reminding us that life still goes on, and that there are still reasons to enjoy living...even if it means doing so on the field of competition!"

As the interview continued on, Junpei asked, "what do you really think Strega's going to do tomorrow?"

Ryuji frowned, staring quietly at the trees along the road to Okayama: a river of green, passing by as hypnotic stream. "...I have no clue."

xxxx

Atop the roof of the HiAce, Minako Arisato sat quietly: unseen by the world, yet still bound to it.

The One Who Sat Upon the Throne frowned.

"Strega...an existence that continues to persist."

This presented potential complications.

"What are the defiant facets of ADAM attempting now, I wonder?"

One thing was clear, however: they had designs on Ikari.

"Do not intervene unless absolutely necessary...I'm curious as to what hand they seek to play."

Minako wordlessly nodded.

xxxx

Back in the vicinity of Nishiawakura, a Yamaha Royal Star Venture was driving along the winding mountain road known as Prefectural Route 72; atop its ivory back was Misato Katsuragi.

(Before departing for Okayama, Ryuji Sakamoto looked somewhat resigned...until, with a defeated sigh, he tossed her the keys to his bike. "They say forgiveness is better than asking for permission, but some things can't be forgiven. So I'll just say this: break my ride, and you'll regret it." She ignored the unsaid slight to her sense of impulse control, because SWEET she could ride the bike and not feel guilty about it.)

Clutching to her midriff, sitting in the seat behind her, was none other than Mana Kirishima.

(Shortly after the boys — sans Amada and Amamiya — had departed, she had quickly told Mana to get dressed in clothes suitable for going outside. Fortunately, Yamagishi had offered to help Mana pick suitable clothes for riding on a motorcycle.)

Wearing a denim vest, jeans, and a long-sleeved Featherman shirt featuring Pearl Phoenix, the girl looked rather...normal, save for the pretty circlet over her forehead. "Where are we going?" the girl called out.

"I'll know when I see it!"

Honestly, it was a way to unwind after all the pedalling to the metal she had done yesterday just to get from Tokyo-3 to Nishiawakura, moving relatively leisurely along the winding two-lane road. The feeling of the wind in her hair, the rumbling of a bike between her legs...it had been awhile, so the nostalgia was rather thick.

Fortunately, it didn't long before a suitable place was found: a pull-off section of the roadway that allowed for drivers to stop and rest for a bit (or, alternatively, give their poor breaks a rest after going up and down the mountainous routes). Veering off the main road, she slowed to a stop, propping up the kickstand.

"...so what's here?" asked Mana, looking around; wedged between two hotspots of agricultural activity, the pull-off was nestled against a relatively bare patch of mountain slope, covered with hardy grass instead of evergreen trees.

"Just a place to stop for a bit."

"...and we couldn't have done it back at the village?"

"Honestly, I also wanted an excuse to drive Sakamoto-san's bike."

"...why?"

"Because it's cool."

"If you say so."

Misato pulled her red beret out of the bike's storage compartment, cramming it onto her head; the rushing air had felt nice on the short spot in her hair, but it was still an eyesore, she was sure. Walking towards the slope, she positioned herself into a comfortable sitting position. Patting the ground next to her, Mana followed her cue and sat down as well. "...so what do you want," the young girl asked.

"...anything you'd like to talk about?" ventured Misato.

"...like about what?"

"Anything, really. The last time we really talked was...well, when I was dropping you off in the parking lot near Hakone Academy. And to be honest, your texts left a lot to be desired..."

Mana blinked. "But I don't think I've texted you."

"My point exactly. I wish I had found about what had all happened from you personally, you know?"

"Why? You found out regardless, didn't you?"

It would have been different coming from you. "...hmm, how do I put this...how have things been with the civilian girl? With Yamagishi?"

"It's been all right, for the most part. She's been...nice."

"Now imagine if something bad had happened to her...and the person who first told you was someone like Shiro Tokita instead of someone you actually didn't hate, like Shinji-kun or Sakamoto-san." The impulsive curdling of Mana's lips told Misato that she had hit the jackpot. "Same principle applies: if something good or bad happens, it helps to find out from the people you're close to instead of people you dislike, or from strangers."

"...but Sakamoto-san isn't a stranger. And it sure seems like you don't dislike him."

"True," she admitted, "but I like you more than him, you know?"

Mana didn't visibly react beyond a slight hunching of the shoulders.

"So...we're in a place that's out of the way. If there's anything you'd like to talk to me about, you won't have to worry about the others finding out."

"Why would that be a problem?"

"Well...there are some things you may not feel comfortable talking about with the others. Or you might have concerns you don't want them finding out about. Or...you might just have something on your mind that you want to talk about that has nothing to do with anything that's happened over this crazy road trip of yours. Whatever it is, I'd like to know about it."

Mana frowned, resting her hands on her knees. Her eyes turned to the sky, still a pleasing shade of blue early in the morning. "...I don't know where I'd start."

"Take your time." Misato leaned back against the slope, resting her head on her arms. "I'm not going anywhere, after all."

(Alas, Mana wouldn't find it in herself to talk about anything of particular importance; after all, she, Ikari, and Sakamoto had said so much about the events of the road trip just last night... so talking more about them would seem superfluous. And as for anything beyond the road trip...there was nothing that she could think of that Misato would be interested in...or so she thought, at any rate.)

(But the mere fact that Misato was opening herself up on such a level would plant seeds for later.)

(And, in the grand scheme of things...a couple of hours worth of peaceful solitude was pleasurable enough for the both of them.)

xxxx

Ren Amamiya quietly walked through the cedar forest behind the old ryokan, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sojiro Sakura had departed for his cafe by now; Ken Amada was still resting his back from yesterday's 'activities' (which the adults' veiled innuendo had been unsuccessful in hiding the true nature of, he couldn't help but muse); Mayumi Yamagishi was playing with the proverbial legion of cats; the Hasegawas weren't present (for once), while Katsuragi and Kirishima had gone for an impromptu bike ride...and with the other members of the Hakone Caravan on their way to Okayama, it had served as a perfect opportunity to slip away.

The nagging feeling in the back of his head...it was more than a hunch, but not quite an alarm...more akin to an itchy scab that he had to pick at, lest it drive him insane. The sheer subtlety of it, as well...perhaps this was the sensation of a Confidant actually 'pinging' him instead of it being the other way around. (Had he more experience, he would have understood the feeling far more intimately, as Narukami and Arisato did.)

Finally, amidst a thick cluster of trees...was him.

Ren leaned back against the trunk of a cedar, staring intently at the flickering figure before him. "...you look good, Morgana."

The blue-eyed black cat seemed to smile. "Come on Joker; I always look good."

That air of youthful confidence, bordering on arrogance...at least that was unchanged. "Thanks for the pick-me-up."

The cat snorted, getting the reference. "No problem. It's the least I could do."

"...so. What's up?"

The strange entity shook his head, looking somewhat...forlorn? "Our efforts won't be enough before long...soon, some of us will have to get more overt, to give Shinji Ikari enough time to reach the endgame."

"...I see."

"I just wanted to let you know, in person."

"How thoughtful." Ren didn't let any of his discomfort show. "...and what'll that mean for you, specifically?"

Morgana shrugged (which looked both highly improbable and yet incredibly cute coming from a cat). "Better to play an unexpected hand and catch the enemy off-guard instead of reacting all the time...and given my unique connection to the Velvet Room...I think I'll be too enticing a target to let go of."

"...so you're basically pulling a 'me' from Sae's casino," he said, referring to a fake heist from another life that seemed old yet new, even now.

"Faking my own death won't be a part of this one, I swear."

"...and what of your current 'position'? What impact will that have, if things go wrong for you?"

Morgana's tail swung with a bit of agitation. "...probably nothing good. But it's a risk we'll have to take." The cat(?) gazed up at the sky. "Their eyes...are all over the place...drawn towards Shinji Ikari...and if you're actually going to succeed, they have to be drawn away."

"...sucks that it has to be you."

"If nothing else, I'm just returning the favor." Morgana briefly glanced to his left; Joker looked in that direction, yet saw nothing. "Besides...I won't make it easy."

"And when will you enact this 'plan' of yours?"

The cat snorted. "Nya ha ha...you'll most definitely know. It'll all depend on what our enemy does next." There was a brief burst of wind through the dense trees. "I have to go."

"...I will see you again, Morgana," Joker swore.

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily," joked the cat(?) before, in the blink of an eye, he seemed to vanish.

Ren Amamiya huffed, feeling...uncertain and unnerved by what that conversation could possibly entail. I hate not being in the loop. With a frustrated sigh, he turned and walked back down the slope, gently schooling his expression into something more amiable, more neutral.

(Little did he know that he had been watched.)

xxxx

Unseen by human eyes — but most definitely witnessed by Morgana — the host of Armisael stood stoically behind the trunk of a tree.

The coiling beast at last understood the truth of what 'Morgana', veiled beneath a feline avatar, had planned. "Foolish-hope...a-gambit-most-dangerous...going-so-far...for-these-unworthy-lilim..."

The cat (oh, the irony, that their host's metaphorical appearance would also be feline) tried to sneak away, only to yelp as a tendril erupted from the soil and wrapped around her leg. Fear paralyzed the creature, and she ceased to struggle.

"Yet-we-will-accept-your-decision...for-it-is-your-nature..." The beast did not seek to crush or bind further; it knew that the time of its host was fast approaching consummation. "...for-we-are-all-the-same...bound-and-shackled-by-our-mutual-doom..."

With a sudden blink, Mayumi Yamagishi seemed to awaken from her somnolent haze. "...when did I get out here...?" she wondered aloud, looking about with concern. "...I don't remember going out for a walk..."

Alas, it was entirely expected (or so she believed), and so she did not question it further. With a quiet sigh, she made her way back towards Sakura's residence.

(And if the resident felines seemed to regard her more warily than they did before...she didn't comment or put much thought to it.)

(After all...it was only reasonable.)

xxxx

Among the premises of the Okayama Prefectural Multipurpose Grounds — containing all manner of sports accommodations, including tennis courts, an outdoor football field, and a baseball stadium — Shinji Ikari and his fellow travelers stared up at the arena located at the northwest corner of the Multipurpose Grounds. "I think this is the place..."

"Okayama Budokan is pretty specific," remarked Ryuji Sakamoto, leaning on his cane as he gazed around the park. noting the various uniforms indicative of different high schools. "Plus, there's a pretty high concentration of youthful testosterone."

"It shows," observed Junpei, noting several individuals with bandages, bruises, black eyes, swollen faces, or some combination thereof: signs of those who hadn't fared well in their own boxing matches.

"...you'd think they'd have used this place for the Olympics," remarked Kensuke. "I mean, the facilities are practically gift-wrapped already..."

Toji snorted. "Not a chance. It ain't big enough for all the events...plus, they apparently have a thing of building brand new places for the Olympics."

"You're right on that count," commented Sakamoto. "S'why they cleared and leveled several square kilometers worth of Kijō Mountain," he said, referring to the various buildings and arenas constructed approximately fifteen kilometers west-northwest. "Kind of wasteful, if you ask me...but it's tradition, apparently."

"...so are we going in, or what?" asked Junpei, tightening the cap around his head.

The three boys and two adults headed inside, paying for visitor tickets to the events in question; they were directed into the main venue, where hundreds and hundreds of people were gathered into an octagonal arena. Divided by prefecture and then by school, it didn't take long before a former acquaintance was found. "Um...Miki Sanada?" asked Shinji.

The slightly older girl with long hair of silver blinked, her hazel brown eyes narrowing with recognition. "...you're Ikari-san," said the club manager of the Boxing Club for Hakone Academy Junior High. Her eyes lightened when they fell upon Kensuke and Toji. "Aida-san and Suzuhara-san; I didn't know you'd be in town."

"We were close by, and Nagisa invited us," explained Toji. Sakamoto and Junpei quickly grabbed seats without a word, serving as an impromptu barrier between the Room 23 trio and the other members of the Boxing Club. As the three boys sat down around Sanada, Toji continued, "has he fought yet?"

Miki shook her head. "He should be up next, actually; we've gone through the finals matches for the pinweight, light flyweight, flyweight, light bantamweight, and bantamweight classes..." With a frown, she focused on the arena down below, where people were beginning to gather around two corners. "...looks like the featherweight finals are about to start."

Shinji leaned in, seeing the distinctive ashen-colored hair of Kaworu Nagisa; his roommate stood in the red corner, wearing similarly-colored boxing gloves and headgear; his white boxing shorts and dark boxing shoes were still the same as before. Even as Shinjiro Aragaki and Akihiko Sanada spoke to him, the young boy seemed remarkably unconcerned. Across the ring in the blue corner was a boy of similar age with wild dark hair, wearing black shorts and white boxing shoes; he was shadow-boxing the air with excited and almost manic energy. "Nagisa-kun doesn't seem worried at all..."

"His opponent is Senbei Takeshi," explained Miki. "He has a pretty wild style that impressed a lot of scouts during the preliminaries...he might actually give Nagisa a run for his money..."

"Hard pass on that ever happening," said Toji with a snort. "That's a sucker's bet."

"...though it would be interesting to see if Nagisa-kun could get pushed a little," wondered Kensuke.

Shinji simply watched in silence, curious to see what an actual boxing match looked like...at least, a match that involved someone he knew.

At that point, the announcer spoke, his amplified voice echoing through the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin the final match of the Okayama Summer Smash's Featherweight Class: introducing in the red corner, from Hakone Academy in Tokyo-3...Kaworu Nagisa!" Miki, the other Boxing Club members, and Kensuke cheered for him, whilst Toji and Shinji simply clapped; the young man did not respond at all. "And introducing in the blue corner, from Nanba Junior High in Osaka...Senbei Takeshi!" The boy in question grinned widely, raising his arm up high.

Nagisa and Takeshi stepped forward to the center of the ring, briefly touching gloves as the referee explained the rules to them. They both stepped away to their corners, preparing themselves with the last few moments available; the chatter amongst the audience invariably became quieter as all focus turned towards the arena; with the relatively dim lighting outside of the boxing ring, it almost appeared as if the world itself faded away, leaving only the boxers in the ring. It was honestly...somewhat intimidating, to witness from afar.

He couldn't help but think about the last time he had 'boxed', when Kaworu Nagisa had knocked him out with one blow to the chin. I wonder what it's actually like...?

The bell rung, and both fighters advanced towards the center.

As predicted, Takeshi had a significant emphasis on power; once he gauged the distance between them with his left, the Osaka boxer became more comfortable with sending out right straights and smashes. Kaworu, for his part, seemed to focus on parrying or seemingly deflecting the blows outright; even those that seemed to hit — including a rather vicious shot to the liver — were apparently mitigated by just the right amount of footwork. Despite the strength in Senbei Takeshi's blows, Kaworu didn't seem hurt...at all. Even as Takeshi circled and struck at Kaworu from all sides, the serene expression on the red-eyed boy's face didn't change in the least.

It seemed like an eternity later when the bell rang, signifying the end of the first round. Shinji exhaled audibly, sinking back in his chair. "...how long was that?"

"Three minutes," answered Junpei.

Three minutes?! It had felt so much longer! "How many more rounds are there?"

"Amateur boxing is restricted to three rounds of three minutes each," explained Miki, a concerned frown on her face. "...Nagisa wasn't as offensive as he is normally...Takeshi's already leading on points."

"Maybe it's stage fright?" suggested Ryuji.

"...Nagisa-kun doesn't strike me as the type to get stage fright about anything," joked Kensuke.

"But the club manager raises a good point," said Toji, leaning forward out of curiosity. "The fights I've seen Nagisa partake in usually end much more quickly..."

Shinji grimaced. Nagisa-kun...what's going through your head, I wonder...?

xxxx

Even as the advice of Akihiko Sanada slipped through one ear and out the other, Kaworu Nagisa mentally hummed to himself. You try to run me through, hold on...think again, don't you know, what you're starting~

He wondered if his fellows were at least enjoying the show.

xxxx

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of the second round...and it was more of the same: fearsome strikes from Senbei Takeshi, with little in the way of reaction from Kaworu Nagisa other than several retaliatory jabs. Yet...each punch made Takeshi back away as though he were fearful for his life. Nagisa punched just often enough to keep the referee from calling the fight in favor of his opponent...but just barely.

As the seconds ticked by ever so slowly, Miki Sanada became more and more concerned. "This doesn't make sense...what is he doing...?"

If nothing else, the tension rose in a most excellently exhausting manner. By the time the bell rung, Miki, Shinji, Kensuke, and Toji were at the edge of their seats. "Come on Aki," growled the club manager, "give Nagisa some actual advice for a change...!"

"...hmm," murmured Ryuji.

"You see something, Captain?" asked Junpei.

Ryuji leaned forward, resting his hands on the handle of his cane. "...Nagisa doesn't seem threatened at all...and he hasn't even tried to clinch once...he's behind on points...but why does his opponent seem more frustrated?"

xxxx

In the blue corner, Senbei Takeshi angrily gargled water and spat it out into the bowl held up by his corner man.

"You're easily winning on parts, Senbei-kun," his coach calmly said. "Take it easy in the final round, and you've got this."

"...none of my punches feel like they're hitting. He has to be using an A.T. Field of some kind!"

His coach shook his head. "The Adept Judge would have flagged him if that were the case," he said, pointing a thumb to the serious looking man standing at the side of the arena; given the increase of those with metaphysical and spiritual capabilities after Second Impact, their slow infiltration into the realms of athletic events had to be checked with additional judges and regulation, to keep the playing field level.

"And what about anything cognitive or whatnot?"

"The event organizers already checked the Metaverse before the events of the day, Senbei-kun...and besides, any kind of Archetype influence would be affecting you as well."

"But it doesn't make sense," growled Senbei, glaring across the ring towards that smug albino-lookin' boy. "I know how my punches feel, and they don't feel right."

"Whatever head game that Nagisa's pulling, ignore it. You know how to box: just don't do anything stupid, and you'll win."

The referee yelled for the seconds to vacate the corner, leaving Senbei to glare at his opponent...who still looked fine as rain. I'm gonna wipe that smile off your face, he mentally growned. The bell rung once more, and he advanced towards the center.

Nagisa did as well...up to a point. He stopped just beyond Senbei's range. "...this has been fun. But I think it's time we end this," he said, sounding rather clear despite the mouthpiece.

Senbei snorted at the sheer arrogance. "Took the words right out of my mouth!" he growled, stepping in quickly.

Nagisa raised his left; Senbei held his right hand up in a guard as he lashed out with his own left; Nagisa's head slipped by his fist, and then-

Darkness.

Crushing and sudden darkness.

xxxx

It happened like the flash of a lightning bolt.

Kaworu Nagisa's right arm had slid along the outside of Senbei Takeshi's left, curving into a right hook that slammed into the boy's jaw.

Takeshi spun from the force, legs going limp as he crashed face down onto the floor.

The referee ordered Kaworu towards the neutral corner before turning towards the fallen boxer from Osaka; it only took a few moments of observation before the referee hurryingly waved their arms overhead in a crisscrossing manner.

Just like that, the match was over.

"A rarity in amateur boxing, we have as the winner by knockout: Kaworu Nagisa!" exclaimed the announcer, even as numerous onlookers and enthusiastic boxers cheered the sudden turnaround.

Shinji sunk back into his chair, exhaling heavily as the tension bled away. "That...that was intense..."

"...was he actually angling for victory by knockout?" inquired Junpei with a stunned blink. "That's pretty reckless for amateur boxing."

At those words, Kaworu Nagisa turned towards the stands, staring directly to the section where Hakone Academy's seats were; without saying a word, he simply wiggled his eyebrows.

"...and yet that's exactly what he was going for, apparently," grumbled Miki, palming her face out of sheer exasperation.

"HA! Told you it was a sucker's bet," crowed Toji.

The lightweight match — featuring combatants from Kanazawa-2 and Tokyo-2 — was already underway when Kaworu Nagisa (still clad in his boxing shorts, having put on a tank top and his usual walking shoes) returned to the stands. "I hope you all enjoyed! It was a truly fantastic fisting on both the part of my opponent and myself."

Any well-wishes and accolades his gymmates wished to provide immediately died an ugly death. Ryuji stared deadpan, Junpei sputtered out of disbelief, while Shinji, Kensuke, and Toji sighed deeply out of mutual exasperation. Miki Sanada defaulted to 'club manager' mode and snarkily growled, "okay pal, first of all, watch your tongue!"

Kaworu blinked before sticking out his tongue, curling it up so that he could stare cross-eyed at it.

(Shinji inwardly thought that that was actually pretty clever; Aida and Suzuhara also did, judging by their stifled snickering.)

"You know what I mean!" retorted Miki. "Secondly, what was up with that performance?! Why would you do something so risky?"

"I knew that visitors would be present, and so I decided to give them a show," said Kaworu, sitting down with a cherubic smile. "And was it not thrilling? Did it not get your blood pumping from sheer, animalistic excitement?"

"Blood pumping from bewilderment and concern, maybe," groused Toji.

(Junpei looked subtly at his old superior. "What's with this kid?")

("I think that's just how he is," whispered Ryuji. "Kids these days, am I right?")

Miki snorted. "I hope Aki and Shinjiro-kun gave you a stern tongue-lashing for that stunt."

"...why would they? I'm not entirely sure what you and your boyfriend do on your dates, but that sounds awfully lewd. Honestly Miki-chan, besmirching their dignity like that is beneath you," scolded Kaworu.

Miki sputtered, "t-t-t-that's not what I meant!"

("...he's pretty ballsy for such a weirdo," quietly acknowledged Junpei.)

("Who knows, maybe he'll be a comedian when he grows up," suggested Ryuji.)

"...so, what's next?" asked Shinji, consciously trying to draw the conversation on a different track.

"I will have to head back down for the award ceremony once they finish the last of the finals matches." As he spoke, the judges announced a victory by decision for the boxer from Tokyo-2. "We just have the light welterweight, welterweight, and light middleweight matches to go."

"No going up to middleweight or higher?" asked Kensuke.

"It's rare for amateurs through high school to get heavy enough for anything at middleweight or above," explained Miki. "Even most of Japan's professional boxers populate the lower weight classes."

"Seems kind of odd that there'd be such a big event for fighting, of all things..." murmured Shinji.

"This is how some people get along," remarked Toji with shrug. "The Olympics going on is proof enough of that."

"...consider it this way, Shinji-kun: combative arts like these...some people may pursue them purely as a means of knowing how to defend themselves in a rather dangerous world. But quite frankly, I think the desire at the root of it all is to have some sense of control over one's own fate...and for flesh and blood beings like us, that often comes out through violent means. At least this way, there's a measure of control...of regulation...a means of keeping things from getting too crazy."

"I'm sure the guy you knocked out feels the same way," grunted Toji.

Kaworu smiled. "Indeed! I'm happy you understand, Toji-kun."

Toji didn't even have time to scoff before the announcer introduced the competitors for the light welterweight finals; standing in the red corner was Akihiko Sanada, looking confident and eager. "Okay, there's my big brother!" exclaimed Miki. "GO AKI!"

In the grand scheme of things, it was hard to give credence to Akihiko's opponent in the blue corner; unlike the tense and close match that Kaworu had put on, Akihiko was clinical, precise, yet overwhelming; he ducked and dodged his opponent's frustrated swings, retaliating with pinpoint body shots and flicker-fast jabs to the head. Within two minutes, that silver-haired paragon had his opponent against the ropes, and was too quick and agile to even be clinched; before the first round was even finished, the referee stopped the match, at which point the blue corner threw in the towel.

"And with that corner stoppage, we have as winner by referee technical decision: Akihiko Sanada!" exclaimed the announcer.

As Akihiko held up his right arm in victory, Ryuji couldn't help but whistle. "Now that was a commanding performance."

"And that's what usually happens when Nagisa fights," explained Miki, glaring daggers at the silver-haired boy.

"And I can tell you that my match was probably far more exciting to watch," Kaworu nonchalantly said.

"...well, he kind of has a point," admitted Kensuke.

As the final match of the welterweight class began and proceeded through its three rounds, Kaworu suddenly stood. "Well, I suppose I should head back down and get ready for the award ceremony...what are your plans for afterwards?" inquired the ashen-haired boxer. "After all, a great many competitors have arranged to stay through the closing ceremonies of the Olympics tomorrow. It would make a fitting capstone, before parting ways..."

Shinji blinked, looking towards his fellows from the Hakone Caravan. "Well...I think we were supposed to stay through tomorrow...?"

Ryuji solemnly nodded. "That's the idea. We still haven't checked into a hotel yet..."

Miki perked up. "Ah, I'm sure the hotel that was reserved by the amateurs for this event will have some spots opening up by tonight. After all, I doubt everyone is going to stay for the Olympics, statistically speaking..."

"That sounds like a plan then," remarked Junpei.

"...then I guess that's the plan," said Shinji, looking back towards his most eccentric roommate.

Kaworu clapped his hands together. "Most excellent. A fond evening of fun and fancy free awaits! Well, I must be off." With a deep and theatrical bow, the young boxer bid them adieu before striding down the stairs towards the locker rooms.

"...so...are the rumors true?" asked Miki, staring intently at Kensuke, Shinji, and Toji. "I mean, since you're all his roommates, you'd know, obviously..."

"...what rumors?" cautiously asked Toji.

"Well...that he always walks around naked in his dorm room. Exclusively."

Toji facepalmed.

"...that's a categorical 'no'," dryly said Kensuke.

Shinji blinked rapidly. How does that become a rumor?

Miki frowned. "How about the one where he secretly has a hidden trap door under his bed where he keeps unwitting pleasure slaves?"

("What kind of rumors are kids trafficking in these days?" warily asked Junpei towards Ryuji.)

("I think we'd best not ask, for the sake of our sanity," whispered back Sakamoto.)

"...first of all, he has the top bunk, so there is no trap door to speak of," answered Kensuke. "Secondly...what?"

Shinji continued blinking. Nagisa-kun, how can you live spawning these kind of rumors?

Toji huffed. "Come on Sanada; Nagisa's weird, not a sado-mack-o-cyst or whatever you call em'."

"Sadomasochist," automatically corrected Aida.

"Ken."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Maki crossed her arms out of irritation. "Okay, that one was definitely more outlandish, but what about the one where he and Ayanami are secretly European nobles in exile? I mean, they both have red eyes and very fair features and are both incredibly bizarre in their own ways..."

"...given that Nagisa is actually afraid of Ayanami as far as I can tell, I don't think that one has any legs to stand on," grunted Toji.

"...although, he does tend to sing German while in the shower..." murmured Kensuke with a frown.

Shinji finally said, "Sanada-san...why are you asking these questions?"

"For the purposes of gossip, obviously," bluntly said Miki. "You'd be surprised how many girls ask me about him. His...quirkiness is legendary by now, but so many are convinced that he has a secret side that I'm always bombarded by questions because I'm the manager of the club he just so happens to attend."

"...it's because he looks like a bishounen, isn't it?" grumbled Kensuke.

"Well duh. Nagisa may be as weird as much as Aki is a protein junkie, but he's obviously as hot as a clear summer day," answered Miki so matter-of-factly that Shinji nearly fell over.

"Figures," snorted Toji.

"...um...aren't you dating the Boxing Club's health advisor?" inquired Shinji, pulling himself back together. "Aragaki-san, right?"

"Of course! I can acknowledge Nagisa's objective attractiveness without being disloyal to Shinjiro-kun," retorted Miki with a huff.

("Man, girls can be so mercenary," quietly murmured Junpei.)

("Like guys at that age are any different," replied Ryuji with the roll of his eyes.)

At that moment, the announcer's voice echoed out once more. "And now for the final match of not only the Light Middleweight class, but also the final match of the Okayama Summer Smash! Introducing in the red corner, from Takamori Academy in Gifu...Tetsuya Yabuki! And introducing in the blue corner, from Hikawa High School in Kōfu-2...Sho Minazuki!"

Shinji was already turning from the red corner — featuring a muscular boxer with a rather heroic build — to look at the blue corner when he froze.

The red streak in Minazuki's short brown hair was distinctive enough...but the look in his blue eyes, even from the stands...

The Beast chuckled knowingly.

"Ah...a look you know all too well."

The monstrous creature massaged his shoulders.

"The look of disdain...of malice...of contempt...does it not warm your heart...?"

...it made his chest hurt, from sudden anxiety. "...who is that in the blue corner?" he asked.

"An in-boxer, and a brawler through and through," explained Miki. "Minazuki's matches at the Summer Smash have always devolved into slugfests, but he's always come out ahead on points regardless...so this is probably going to be the same." The bell rung. The two boxers advanced; to the shock of most, Sho didn't even have his hands raised. "Wait, why isn't his guard up-?"

Tetsuya didn't waste the free opening, lashing out with a lightning-quick jab-

SMASH.

In the blink of an eye, there was a gloved fist embedded in Tetsuya's abdomen; Sho followed up with a vicious left hook and an immediate right uppercut as Tetsuya stumbled; the high school boxer from Gifu fell backwards, his headgear smacking rather loudly against the arena.

Minazuki stood quietly in the neutral corner, looking down at his fallen opponent; after a few seconds, the referee crossed their hands and called the match.

"With shocking swiftness, we have another winner by knockout: Sho Minazuki!" said the announcer.

The cheers were polite, yet muted; Minazuki's victory had been so quick that it hadn't yet registered with most.

"...well that was brutal," flatly said Toji.

"...he never demonstrated that kind of technique in his prior matches," murmured Miki with a surprised expression. "...was he holding back this whole time...?"

Shinji didn't know the answer to that, nor did he much care. Rather, his sole focus was on the fact that Minazuki seemed to be staring towards the stands...towards their section...towards him, specifically.

(Why couldn't he shake that feeling?)

(Why do you think he's looking at you...?)

xxxx

As Sho Minazuki was declared the winner, he couldn't help but stare directly towards Shinji Ikari...the Third Child...the one who possessed an Evangelion.

Inwardly, he couldn't help but grin.

xxxx

After the Okayama Summer Smash's official conclusion — complete with an award ceremony for all ten victors, where Kaworu, Akihiko, and the others received medals to commemorate their victory — the various teams and clubs went their separate ways: most returning to the hotel reserved for the event. Some, however, decided to find a place to eat.

The Boxing Club of Hakone Academy had elected to do the same.

At a yakitori restaurant within walking distance of the arena, they had all split amongst various tables; the four members of Room 23 grabbed one. Before long, as their orders came out, conversation eventually began. "...so," said Shinji after he finished chewing his chicken gizzards, "it's still...strange."

"What's strange?" asked Kensuke.

"...I just don't get the fascination. With fighting, I mean."

Kaworu chuckled as he chewed through his skewer of chicken livers. "Why not? Do you not fight for an important reason?"

"...I think he's talking about fighting as a hobby," remarked Toji, mouth full of chicken thigh and fried vegetables.

Shinji nodded in agreement. "I mean...I understand the need to fight if it's to protect someone else. To protect something you care for...but fighting for fun? For entertainment? I...I don't really get it."

"You will see that there are a great many means by which people can entertain themselves," remarked Kaworu. "Some may not be enjoyed by everyone...and I would dare to say that trying to make it so would be an exercise in futility."

"...but why do you enjoy it?" asked Shinji. "You said before in the stands that you think people fight to have some sense of control over their own lives...is that why?"

Kaworu smile's was melancholic. "Well,,,is it possible to be entertained, if you lack control over your life? If there is nothing that you can call your own, can you enjoy anything? If even your own desires and joys cannot be chosen by you as an individual...then can they even be said to be such?"

Toji stared flatly at the boxer. "C'mon, do you really have to pull the philosophical stuff? Maybe you make up for how weird you are by being a genius at punching people."

"When he's also in the top five academically, maybe he should just be called 'genius'," joked Kensuke before munching on his own skewer of stir-fried poultry.

"Ah...words of adulation, praising my mind and body," wistfully said Kaworu. "Its weight...its girth..."

"Oh come on, that HAD to be on purpose," grumbled Toji.

"But aren't human geniuses said to be those with bigger brains than others? Even if, as far as I can tell, that doesn't actually hold," remarked Kaworu.

Toji stared flatly before taking another petulant bite of his yakitori.

"...Nagisa-kun...you once told me that you find a sense of relief with boxing...even if it's not challenging. Is it...because of the fact you get to fight other people?" Despite the boy's quirks, it didn't seem to fit his relatively cheerful nature.

For once, there was a touch of bitterness to the boy's smile. "Well...as we've discussed before, we all have issues with our fathers, in some form or another...but at least you all have a sense of clarity, whether it be for good or ill." Taking a sip of tea, Nagisa then added, "I...do not know if my own father is alive or not. Does he remember me? Does he even care? Is he perhaps dead, and I just don't know it? Or perhaps he's mired in circumstances far too terrible to imagine?" He took another bite from his skewer, this time with a bit more force than usual. As he finished chewing, he added, "there is a great deal of ambiguity there...and quite frankly, my life is ambiguous enough as it is." Clenching his hand, his red eyes stared solemnly at his knuckles. "At least in this small way...even if it ultimately amounts to nothing meaningful...I have some clarity. For what can be more clear than to feel your fist slam into the body of another? What can provide more of an epiphany, than to feel an opponent strike back with their own? What better place to find understanding, than in a ring where words have no place? At least...that's how I like to think about it, at any rate."

The other three boys stared rather dumbfoundedly at Kaworu. Finally, Kensuke asked, "...you sure it's not just because you have a thing for fighting people? Because if you do, that's totally okay!"

"Yeah," said Toji with a nod. "Ya don't have to dress it up in fancy terms."

"If you say so," acknowledged Kaworu with a grin. Finally, he turned his cherubic smile towards Shinji. "What about you, Shinji-kun? Does my particular hobby cause you discomfort?"

"...I wouldn't go that far," admitted Shinji. "I just...I guess I can understand why you want clarity...but I just don't see how fighting can provide that. I mean, wherever your father is...how is you being a boxer going to change that?"

"...a fair enough point," admitted Kaworu. "Perhaps I am merely deluding myself. Perhaps I am distracting myself, at best...who knows. We can only find out by living through life, one day at a time..." The boxer turned back to his food.

Shinji sensed that the conversation had reached an endpoint. Even if it was odd, he felt like he understood Nagisa-kun just a bit better...

xxxx

The limitations of the flesh and blood that bound the lilim were always present, mused Kaworu Nagisa.

And yet, they were limitations he nonetheless endured (or perhaps embraced), for the sake of something greater (a goal, a fate, a destiny that bound his existence with Ikari's).

On the door with ten locks — that metaphorical image of the bond that he and Shinji Ikari shared — a third deadbolt switched open.

Kaworu hid his smile behind another sip of tea.

xxxx

True to Miki Sanada's word, the multi-story hotel reserved by the event organizers for the Okayama Summer Smash had some vacancies. As such, Ryuji had rented two rooms: one for him and Junpei, and another for Shinji, Kensuke, and Toji.

Sitting in a chair by the window, Ryuji quietly stared at the skyline of Okayama, while the television played footage from the Summer Olympics. The sounds of competition, and the stoic words of the announcers, clashed against the thoughts of looming doom and danger that tomorrow could bring. "...tomorrow's going to be interesting."

Junpei, laying on one of the two nearby beds, was fiddling with his phone. "So far, nothing of note's happened in Nishiawakura according to Kenny..."

"That doesn't fill me with confidence," murmured Ryuji. "That just means Strega's probably going to do something tomorrow."

"...waiting sucks," grumbled Junpei.

Knock knock knock.

Both men looked towards the door, their expressions shifting to ones of alertness and alarm; Ryuji impulsively clutched his cane whilst Junpei shifted towards the door. The goateed man warily looked through the peephole, only to immediately blanch. "Oh...oh crap."

"...what is it?" asked Ryuji.

Junpei's answer was to simply unlock the door. Opening it up, he nervously said, "hey, boss man..."

"Hmph," grunted the middle-aged man standing outside; clad in weathered boots, old jeans, and a slim black turtleneck, he cut a rather smart and suave figure that was flatly contradicted by the scowl on his stubbly face. "You've got some balls trying to come to Okayama even after you were explicitly told not to."

"You're looking good, Iwai-kun," remarked Ryuji. "They actually pulled the Superintendent of Kantō to help with Okayama?"

"And Chūbu and Kansai," groused Munehisa Iwai. "Don't change the subject." Turning a glare towards Junpei, he continued, "I know that Sakamoto isn't technically under the Task Force's jurisdiction anymore, but you sure as hell are. Why'd you come to Okayama?"

"Er, well...I'm still technically performing my own mission...?" offered Junpei.

Iwai snorted. "Loophole abuse won't fly. I already know that the Third Child has been sighted by Agents on patrol...probably in the room next door, I'd wager."

xxxx

/Meanwhile, in the Room Next Door/

"...so, any idea what we're going to do for the Olympics tomorrow?" asked Shinji, even as he continued trying to read through Hamlet.

"Probably gonna find a place to eat at and watch the closing ceremonies from," guessed Toji, who was busy watching the marathon event on the television.

"If nothing bad happens," remarked Kensuke, who was fiddling with his phone. "...let's hope not."

With that, Shinji could wholeheartedly agree.

xxxx

"You'd guess right," remarked Ryuji. "We're not here to cause trouble."

"I know that much. But his presence makes people nervous," grunted Iwai as he sat down on the second bed. He fiddled with the red lollipop in his mouth, adding, "why the hell are you here?"

"First of all, didn't know you gave up smoking," remarked Ryuji. "Secondly...would you believe it's because we came to watch some amateur boxing?"

Iwai stared flatly at him.

"No seriously, that's what we came to do. We even have witnesses!" exclaimed Junpei.

As Junpei explained their 'reason' for being in Okayama, Iwai's scowl seemed to grow in intensity. "So...the Third Child's roommate just so happens to have had a boxing tournament scheduled to coincide with the Olympics," he grumbled, looking at his own phone. He scratched at his gray hair — cut short with long sideburns — with his free hand, even as his irritation seemed to grow. "It wouldn't take any self-respecting lawyer much to obliterate your pretext."

Ryuji snorted. "Like they'd resort to actually putting us through court over something so small."

"You'd be surprised at the things I hear coming out of Tokyo-2," grumbled Iwai. "Especially after whatever happened with that Ai ferry they keep talking about on the news." The superintendent's eyes narrowed as he glared at them. "Any truth to the rumors?"

"You're gonna have to be a bit more specific, boss man," remarked Junpei.

"That an Evangelion was responsible for pulling the whole ship into the Metaverse, where it proceeded to kill every single Agent onboard." Iwai chuckled at the immediate expressions on their faces. "Yeah, that's just one rumor out of many, and probably not the whole truth...but that's the climate you're stepping into, playing these sorts of games."

"...sheesh, thanks for the warning," grumbled Ryuji. "No wonder your Persona's Yamaguchi."

"If you break out any yakuza jokes, I'll break out the cripple ones in return," growled Iwai.

"...sheesh boss man, what crawled up your ass and died?" said Junpei with a frown.

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Iwai looked like the picture of stress. "All these foreigners in Okayama...most of them have A.T. Agents in their retinue, so jurisdiction is easier to figure out with them...but there's other governmental agents and private actors, and getting them to stay in their lane with regards to the Metaverse has been an outright pain, notwithstanding all the paranoia the Olympic Committee has had about 'cognitive doping' and whatnot...like people honestly give a crap. And now this apparent threat from Strega? You want me to keep going down the list, Iori?"

"...point taken," sheepishly admitted the younger man.

"...I thought Takaya was dead and buried," growled Iwai. "We all did."

"I know," admitted Ryuji. (That still stung, even now, because how?) "I was there."

"Got enough Ghosts to deal with in real life without adding another one to the list..." Sighing, Iwai stood back up, staring intently at them. "Fair or unfair, plenty of guys up top are nervous enough about the Third Child as it is...so just keep your heads down tomorrow. We've got enough firepower on hand to deal with any threat." Glancing towards Junpei, he said, "consider that an order from me." Turning back to Ryuji, he added, "and consider it a personal favor."

"...no promises," said Ryuji, knowing full well that if anything did go down tomorrow, keeping away from the action would not be on the menu.

"...guess that's all I'll be able to get out of you," gruffly admitted Iwai. "...take care." With that said, the Kantō Superintendent departed.

"...well, that was a buzzkill," grumbled Junpei, getting to his feet. "Think I'm going to the bar downstairs to grab a beer...then I'll call my darling Chi-Chi to complain, only for her to tell me how much of an idiot I'm being."

Ryuji snorted. "Your dynamic with her is weird."

"Yup. Still love each other though, and that'll be enough to make me feel better." Junpei promptly left as well, leaving Ryuji alone.

The middle-aged man leaned back in his chair, staring quietly at the plain ceiling. "...life can be such a mess..." He reached for the two pendants around his neck, opening up to reveal the photos from happier days, of the two women who had been the love of his life in their own time. Chihaya...Shiho...I'll take whatever strength you're willing to offer to an old fool like me...

xxxx

The hours passed, and everyone eventually turned in for the evening.

One would think that would be where it ended...

xxxx

Toji and Kensuke had emerged triumphant in the games of janken that had been used to determine sleeping arrangements; as such, both boys slept soundly upon the hotel room's two beds, whilst Shinji had the couch.

As the clock struck 10:03 PM, Shinji's phone vibrated; grimacing (because the couch was honestly uncomfortable in some spots), he rose, staring at the screen. Who...?

They were messages from Kaworu, and not even in the Room 23 group chat:

K. Nagisa: Good evening, Shinji-kun.
K. Nagisa: I'm right outside your room.
K. Nagisa: Would you mind coming outside? There's something I'd like to show you.

Frowning, Shinji slowly rose, using the light from his phone to see where his shoes were (better than stumbling around and potentially waking up Aida and Suzuhara...). Mentally ruing the fact that he hadn't brought along any sleepwear, he impulsively smoothened out his dark shirt and blue jeans before quietly opening the door. Sure enough, Kaworu was standing there, dark pants and a rather baggy hoodie. "Nagisa-kun...?" he whispered.

"Good evening, Shinji-kun," quietly replied the ashen-haired boy, his smile as seraphically enigmatic as ever. "Ah, you've already put on shoes."

"...isn't your room on the floor above this one...?"

"It is. But my fellow clubmates are still asleep. I'm afraid they might find my current destination...disagreeable."

"...what is it you wanted to show me...?"

"Follow me."

Somewhat perturbed, yet still trusting that Nagisa meant him no harm, Shinji dutifully followed him down the hall.

(Little did he know that Junpei Iori, unable to fall asleep despite having had two beers, had heard the knocking and the subsequent opening of the door from the adjacent room.)

(Little did he know that the A.T. Agent slowly opened the door to his and Ryuji's room, eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched them walk away. "Now where are you two going...?" he murmured to himself.)

Down the stairs to the ground floor they went, walking outside into the humid and warm air of Okayama at night. People were still out and about (since it was a Saturday night, after all), despite the sense of palpable tension; those who were out seemed to be walking very quickly towards the destinations, with little chatting in the meantime. A side effect of psychological disciplining to ensure the Summer Olympics went off without a hitch? A local ordinance that utilized cognitive engineering to reinforce social morals? A subtle yet unconscious sensation of something wicked upon the horizon? Shinji had no way of knowing; all he knew was that it felt awfully quiet. "Nagisa-kun?"

"Let us stretch our legs, if you don't mind? I feel that my mind...feels a bit haphazard."

Wordlessly nodding, Shinji kept pace with Kaworu as the boxer began a light jog along the sidewalks (a vigorous exercise, it had to be said). Despite the strange anxiety of those around him, he didn't feel...threatened.

The Beast snorted.

"What are these to you?"

Tiny ants, bereft of their mandibles, crawled feebly along its feet.

"What possible threat could they pose?"

After going for at least a dozen blocks, Shinji finally decided to ask a question once they paused at the red light of a crosswalk. "Nagisa-kun, where are we going...?"

"A place that I received an invitation to, over the course of the tournament," answered Nagisa. "A place that intrigued me, to put it mildly."

"And what place would that be?"

Nagisa smiled enigmatically. "I think it would be best if it were a surprise~"

That didn't fill him with any comfort.

Nor did it when he saw the place in question: nestled down an alleyway (suspicious), it was a single door into the back of a concrete building (very suspicious), guarded by two dark-haired men with grim expressions (INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUS). That one of them had a scar on his eyebrow from a knife wound (SUPREMELY SUSPICIOUS) only unsettled him further.

"Good evening, gentlemen," nonchalantly said Kaworu, his hands held out at his sides.

"Get lost, kids," grumbled the scarred man.

"I was reliably informed that some...enhanced fisticuffs were occurring on these premises?"

The other man, wearing an old-fashioned bowler hat that belied his ugly grimace, crossed his arms. "And you heard this how?"

"I was one of the competitors at the recent Okayama Summer Smash boxing tournament that concluded today. There was someone going around advertising this particular location to various amateurs of note," explained Kaworu. "I believe the phrase I was told to use was...Kuze, the Oath of the Demon?"

The expressions on the men's faces changed. "Your name, kid?" asked Scarred Man.

"Kaworu Nagisa."

Bowler Hat quickly turned around, knocking on the door in a particular pattern. A slot at about eye level opened up, revealing the face of another man. Bowler Hat repeated Kaworu's name, at which the other man turned away; after several seconds, the doorman's face returned. "He's on the list."

Scarred Man, looking somewhat more relaxed, looked suspiciously in Shinji's direction. "And who are you?"

"Oh, er, um...you mean me?" dumbly asked Shinji. (Way to sound like you're not terrified, you idiot!)

"This is my compatriot, good sir," politely said Kaworu.

"I wasn't asking you," snarled Scarred Man, before turning his glare back towards Shinji. "Your name, kid."

"Ikari! Shinji Ikari," he impulsively answered, if only so the scary-looking man would stop glaring at him.

At this, both men were quiet. "...you're bluffing," murmured Bowler Hat.

"Not at all! He's actually my roommate at the school in Tokyo-3 that we go to," cheerfully said Kaworu.

"...Nagisa-kun, I don't think you should be saying that..." quietly hissed Shinji out of slowly rising panic.

"...you know what, I think we could swing it. There might be enough interested parties to make it worth it..." said Scarred Man. Turning towards the doorman, he said, "two visitor passes." The doorman nodded, handing out two lanyards with gray slabs of plastic on them, each one bearing the kanji for martial artist — 格闘家 — in red. "Keep these on, and stay out of prohibited areas. The usher will guide you to the proper waiting room."

Kaworu clapped his hands together. "Wonderful!"

Shinji simply stared at the lanyard as though it were poison. However, he did not resist as Kaworu slipped it over his head, nudging him in the back to move along. The doorman promptly opened the door — which echoed with a metallic death knell (how apropos) — before shutting behind them.

(Little did he know that a certain man had followed them.)

(Little did he know that Junpei Iori, from over forty meters away, stood beyond the corner of the alleyway with a bewildered expression. "What the hell are they doing...?" he murmured to himself, even as he walked away to a nearby bar with phone in hand. This would require...assistance.)

As the doorman ushered Kaworu and Shinji towards a fourth man — one that he mentally titled 'Brass Knuckles', because wow his fists looked more intimidating with them on — to lead them down a plain concrete hallway with pale lighting. As Brass Knuckles led them along, Shinji nervously whispered, "Nagisa-kun, what have you gotten us into?!"

"A place where more intense combat can occur, Shinji-kun!" answered Nagisa with a grin. "As much as I enjoy boxing, the opportunity presented was too good to pass up. And if I'm to partake, I might as well bring along a friend, no?"

"...and you decided to do that by bringing me to a yakuza fight club?!" he harshly whispered.

Kaworu shook his head. "Worry not, Shinji-kun! Of course this isn't a yakuza fight club. After all, I haven't seen any tattoos, have you?"

As Brass Knuckles snorted, Shinji couldn't help but boggle at a display of naivete that even left him bewildered. "Yakuza hide their tattoos! Showing them in public is a social taboo!"

Nagisa blinked owlishly. "Well, that doesn't seem right. So many tattoos tend to be colorful and garish, after all; what would be the point of getting them if not to show off?" The red-eyed boy suddenly looked thoughtful. "I wonder, if I were to get a tattoo on my forehead, what do you think an ideal choice would be?"

Shinji barely restrained a frustrated whimper.

Before long, after going down a few flights of concrete stairs, the two boys were led down a curving hallway rife with multiple doors. Brass Knuckles opened one door with a bank, revealing a small square room with a couple of wooden benches bolted down to the floor. In the corner was an old sink, and an ancient CRT television was hanging from the ceiling on the far left. A door with a deadbolt could be seen on the other side, leading to an unknown place. All told, underneath the weak fluorescent lighting, the room exuded an aura of oppressive desolation. "Wait until you're called on," growled Brass Knuckles, pushing them both inside. Without hesitation, he closed and locked the door behind them.

"Nagisa-kun...what are we doing?!" said Shinji with a sense of panic, bewildered by how a visit to Okayama had somehow turned into an encounter with yakuza of all things.

Kaworu calmly removed his hoodie, revealing the fact that he was wearing only a tight white tee shirt underneath. "I'm not sure why you're panicking, Shinji-kun."

"This whole situation is so...wrong! What are we even doing?! How are we supposed to get out of here?!"

His roommate honestly looked confused. "...Shinji-kun, do you truly feel trapped by this current situation?" In response to his confused blink, Kaworu continued, "I may not be fully aware of whatever powers you and Ayanami-san possess...but it is no secret amongst the student body that you two are capable of warping away into the Metaverse at a moment's notice. It's happened often enough, after all, what with the missions that have sometimes interrupted your class." Gesturing at the painted masonry around them with open arms, he concluded, "this is not a prison for the likes of you...not unless you want it to be."

"...oh." That was actually a good point, now that he was calm enough to actually think, as compared to defaulting to 'panic panic PANIC.' "...so..." That actually brought him back to his old question. "...why did you want to come here?"

Kaworu, having pulled out a roll of gauze and medical tape, was calmly wrapping his hands. "I was intrigued. Look at the television."

Shinji did so, seeing that footage was being piped in from somewhere else in the building, most likely. Two bare-chested men were fighting each other without boxing gloves or fist wraps of any kind; one was in shorts, while the other was wearing jeans; beyond that, the only thing of note was the fact that their fists occasionally flashed with orange light. "...A.T. Fields...?"

"Although the ability to manipulate one's A.T. Field is a highly specialized art...there are many martial artists who possess a sufficient level of 'enlightenment' to do so, in a manner of speaking. That is why competitions have adepts at hand to ensure no such manipulation is occurring, to keep the playing field level, to keep everything restricted to physicality." Kaworu folded his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. Hunched over, he looked rather thoughtful and contemplative, with none of the eccentricity he usually possessed. "Akihiko-kun was actually invited to this place as well."

Shinji blinked. "The Captain of your Boxing Club?"

"He turned it down; he said that using one's soul as a weapon was 'cheating.' That, and I believe he mentioned something about how fighting in this sort of place could get him in trouble with the school...but I'm sure that's a rather minor detail."

...I'm pretty sure that second part is the more important one, Shinji couldn't help but think. "Why did you accept, then?"

"Physical training, and the catharsis that comes from it...good things, it has to be said. Yet is the soul any less a part of us than the body? Are not flesh and spirit a unified whole, useless without the other?" With a melancholy sigh — laced with just a bit of frustration — he added, "I suppose...I wanted to see if I could be pushed further."

"...are you bored, Nagisa-kun?" asked Shinji. "I mean...at your final match today, you took down your opponent with a single punch."

"...I think 'bored' is the wrong way to look at it," answered Kaworu. On the screen, the man in jeans was kneed in the gut; the follow-up punch to his temple knocked him out cold, much to the obvious delight of the crowd around the circular arena. "My fights are still enjoyable...but I don't think there's anything wrong with seeking out something that might challenge me further. Anything to attain that understanding I lack."

"Then why invite me?" he asked plainly. "I already told you earlier that fighting other people for entertainment...it's not something I'm interested in." Between just the two of them, with no one else around, he felt more comfortable being upfront, honest...and less polite. "It's a pretty strange situation as it is...and dangerous."

"For me, you mean?" said Kaworu with an enigmatic smile. "And you would gain no utility from it, Shinji-kun?"

"...what do you mean?"

"The battles you have against Ghosts, and Acolytes...and now these 'Angels'...are they the only things you'll face?" Kaworu's red eyes seemed to take on a rather intense gleam. "After all...the creative aspect of humanity is also matched by its capacity for destruction. Some might say their destructive power is superior...and you've encountered that already, have you not?"

Shinji tried not to think about the mission to Atlanta, where Jin Shirato had so callously destroyed the MAGI.

"...it would be an awful shame, in my opinion, if you were to perish before your time, Shinji-kun," honestly said Kaworu. "I think it would do you some good, to face the 'ugliness' of humanity in the raw, with all the visceral impact that comes with it. I know not of what aspects of humanity you've dealt with in the cognitive world...but I'm sure there's something to be said for facing them when you're naught but flesh and blood as well. Even if it's only by proxy, through my fights."

Shinji briefly recalled the variety of Shadows he had encountered over the past two months: both of people he knew (Kensuke Aida, Toji Suzuhara) and those he had no acquaintance with (Chiba Takehide, Maiko Oohashi, and numerous others whose Shadows were held within the Cognitive Protection Center). There had been quite a lot of strangeness and 'ugliness' to behold...and yet, there was still that strange tension that came with reality.

His Other quietly caressed a skull.

"The dead, full of impotent rage, can only do so much..."

He cracked one knuckle, which sounded as a thunderclap.

"...the living, meanwhile, are unpredictable...chaotic..."

The other door to the room — the one they hadn't entered through — suddenly opened, revealing a bald man in a suit, which barely disguised his hulking build. "It's been decided that Shinji Ikari will fight."

"...eh?" sputtered Shinji.

Kaworu frowned. "He is here as my guest; I'm the only one that was actually invited."

Bald Man snorted. "Well tough luck, albino; once we confirmed that Shinji Ikari is indeed the rumored Third Child, the bets started flying. People want to see something interesting, and you're going to give it to them." From behind him came two more men in suits, each one glaring menacingly at Kaworu. They took positions behind the red-eyed boy, with one placing a hand upon his ashen hair. "I'm sure your 'friend' would be most interested in seeing what you can do, after all. I bet he wouldn't mind sitting out...isn't that right?"

The unsaid subtext — of threats, of promised bodily harm — had all the subtlety of a metal bat to the face. Shinji looked with concern towards his roommate, who looked remarkably unaffected by the sudden change of circumstance. (Surely that couldn't be true; was Kaworu just that good at hiding his own fear?) "Nagisa-kun..."

"...well, you heard the gentleman, Shinji-kun," replied Kaworu with an enigmatic smile. "Remember...if worse comes to worse, you can always run away."

The option of retreating was always present...and yet Kaworu was now a hostage, of sorts. Running wasn't an option.

The Beast chortled.

"As if the likes of THESE are worth running away from..."

Clenching his right fist, he turned back towards Bald Man. "...fine."

Bald Man gestured towards the short hallway behind him, which led to a closed shutter door of sorts. "Right this way."

Shinji — relying on what determination he had despite his anxiety — stepped beyond the threshold; alas, he couldn't help but wince when his escort slammed the door shut behind him, echoing with the heaviness of a death knell.

As the bald man raised the rolling shutter door at the end of the hallway, Shinji winced at the sudden bright lights, and the loud cheers of a raucous crowd. Quietly stepping into the circular arena, he noticed numerous shutter doors lining the wall (presumably to where other combatants were located?); five meters above, the wall came to an end, revealing the transparent partition dividing well over twenty rows of seats ascending upward. The number of observers was in the hundreds; although mostly Japanese, he could also see a variety of gaijin as well. Is it because of the Olympics...?

"So, the mythical Evangelion-user turns out to be a kid...?" Shinji looked down at someone who seemed twice his size: a muscular man with coiffed brown hair and a wide jaw, his whole physique evoked that of raging strong man. The cool yet condescending look in his eyes belied his otherwise brutish appearance. Ironically enough, his elaborate tattoos — showcasing elegant yet ferocious tigers — only presented an additional contrast. "Hmph...can the rumors really be true...?"

At that moment, the announcer spoke over loudspeakers with a frenzied tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's carnage has seen plenty of blood flow; now we have a unique treat for you! Your old favorite Daisuke Tendo is back for another round of pain...but his opponent, although small, is none other than one of the mythical users of the anti-Ghost and anti-Acolyte weapon known as Evangelion! Those in the know may have heard about the First Child, the Second Child...and, as of earlier this year, the Third Child. Tonight...we bring you the Third Child, who goes by the name of Shinji Ikari!"

Shinji inwardly winced as the crowd treated him a spectacle that was utterly demeaning. (How did people find this sort of thing entertaining?)

(Will you give into the temptation? Earning their adulation would be so easy...)

Tendo cracked his knuckles, firing off a few punches into the air; each flicker of his fist was accompanied by an orange shine. "I have to say I'm getting excited..."

(You could tear him apart so simply. The crowd might even LOVE you for it...)

(Takaya Sakaki's grin was so confident, and his yellow eyes seemed to gleam amidst the sauna's haze. "...humanity has trudged on long after its fated demise, lurching on like a corpse that has yet to realize it died...ever yearning for that sweet release." Every word he spoke was of someone who had no faith in humanity as a whole.)

Shinji slowly reached up for his head. Even if there are people who want me to be a monster...I won't give them what they want. He would 'participate' to keep Nagisa-kun safe...but his participation might not be what these people wanted. After all...there are people who I want to become better for. Without hesitation, he ripped the spark of blue fire from his forehead, which manifested into the specter of Shogoki.

"And there it is, ladies and gentlemen! Look at the yellow in his eyes...like a demon! Will that demonic nature manifest before us tonight? Let's see how everyone's bets will play out! Ready...and FIGHT!"

Shinji watched quietly as Unit-01 — matching Daisuke Tendo in height — stood by his side, appearing for all the world as a tag-team partner. The tattooed bruiser looked unnerved by the appearance of the ghostly thoughtbeast, who appeared so much like a horned oni. The seconds passed, and still Shinji and Shogoki did not move. Eventually, the roar of the crowd became a demand, as Tendo looked...confused. "...why aren't you attacking?"

Shinji felt like his friends, senpai, and superiors would have a pithy or snappy comeback ready...but that wasn't his nature. "I don't need to," he honestly said, crossing his arms.

"...you might want to reconsider," growled Tendo as he bravely charged, lashing out with a right straight.

(He had faced Shadows; Ghosts; Acolytes; even Angels.)

(You have nothing to fear.)

The glowing fist of his opponent smashed into a wall of orange octagons.

There were audible gasps from many in the audience. The announcer explained why, exclaiming, "and what a ferociously large A.T. Field! Can Daisuke Tendo break through such a barrier?!"

Tendo, somehow sensing his unwillingness to attack, began striking with renewed intensity. His soul was in his fists, smashing against the barrier that separated Shinji Ikari from everyone else.

xxxx

Back in Kaworu's waiting room, the boy was watching the match on the television with an enigmatic smile. "How fascinating...that which we call the A.T. Field, is it not?"

"What are you on about?" growled Witless Peon (as he had taken to thinking of one of his suited minders).

"That representation of the barrier between individuals," he answered. "The Light of the Soul, as I've always liked to refer to it. For such a seemingly timid and pacifistic child, Shinji Ikari's soul is...amazingly robust."

"...nowhere near as vicious as the rumors make him out to be," murmured Unthinking Thug (as he had taken to thinking of the other man) with a disapproving tone. "The crowd won't stand for this forever. They want blood."

"And perhaps they'll get it...though it seems it won't be by Shinji-kun's hands. Not tonight, at least."

Witless Peon snorted. "Given that you knew what you were signing up for, it seems rather wretched on your part to bring someone who doesn't...mesh with this sort of life."

"...my reasons are my own. As for why I actually accepted this invitation..." Kaworu stared intently at the television, a strange expression overshadowing his face. "...there's someone I'm meant to fight...and I'm here to see them in person."

xxxx

In an entirely different waiting room, a second year high school student watched the mounted CRT television with a sense of mounting irritation.

"...tch. All that power...and you're just pissing it away..." Sho Minazuki sneered at the image of Shinji Ikari just letting that worthless pissant wail away on his A.T. Field. "...bet I could make ya fight...I'd make it a fight for sore eyes..." he said with a satisfied snicker.

xxxx

Shinji couldn't help but wonder if the audience's bloodlust was really so pronounced; after all, based on the announcer's introduction, they expected him to win, didn't they?

Daisuke Tendo's furious punches had begun to slacken; despite his impressive build, it did not avail him in the least against the indomitable bulwark that was Shogoki. "You...little...shit..." slurred Tendo, breathing heavily and raggedly.

Unit-01 casually tapped a finger against the man's chest, causing him to topple over onto his back. "...I think this means I win?" Shinji asked aloud.

There was polite applause from some quarters, but jeers and boos from most. The announcer seemed to echo the sentiments of the latter, "victory by exhausting the opponent is an unusual one...and a victory that gives this arena little in the way of satisfaction! Am I right, ladies and gentlemen?!"

Shinji tried not to wince as the crowd's howls grew in size. (The back of his mind seemed to tingle, for some reason.)

As two suited men dragged Tendo away to his respective training room, the announcer roared, "it's time for us to find a new combatant to take on the mighty Third Child; let us see if there's anyone in our stable who can make him-"

Without warning, one of the other shutter doors was ripped open. "You call this a fight?" growled the young man on the other end. Out into the light stepped a boy — a high schooler at the oldest? — with short brown hair, bearing a distinctive red streak. "More like a pointless slapfight if you ask me!"

Shinji couldn't help but boggle. "M...Minazuki?!" What was the Summer Smash's light middleweight finalist doing here?! "You...you also got invited?"

"But of course!" roared the rambunctious boy, looking like the boxer he had been from earlier that day, save for the lack of boxing shoes, gloves, and wraps; now, there was a certain animalistic air to his movements, even as his blue eyes still carried that terror-inducing madness. "This is way more interesting...and it gives me the chance to beat up chumps who piss me off...like you!"

"Me?! We've never even met-" Suddenly, Minazuki was charging, fist reared, and there was an aura of death around it-! "ACK!" Shinji barely dodged to the side, Shogoki suddenly snarling with animosity.

There was undeniable curiosity from the crowd, with some cheering at the sudden turnaround. The announcer seemed to be in full agreement. "Well well; it looks like this young fighter has something that makes even an Evangelion-user fearful! What an unexpected turn of events; this can only mean one thing: time to place your bets, ladies and gentlemen! This next bout begins in sixty seconds, and will last until either submission or knockout!"

"Oh, there won't be any submission," said Sho with a grin. "You've been made out to be some pretty hot shit...I've seen craps laid by dogs that were hotter than you."

"What is this about? Why do you want to fight me?!"

"Do I need a reason?"

"...yes! Yes you do!"

"All right then: my reason...is that I want to kick your ass." Sho stomped the ground for emphasis. "And by the end, you'll be feeling the agony of defeet...hahahahahahahaHAAAAA! Kidding. I'd much rather just punch your face in."

Shinji blanched at the utter rage coming from the stranger. "Why though? I don't even know you!"

Sho snorted. "What a naive little brat...since when do you have to know someone to kill em'?!"

Shinji couldn't help but stare, slack-jawed and dumbfounded by the turn of events. "But...but..."

"And...FIGHT!"

Without hesitation, Sho Minazuki charged. Shogoki roared, darting forward to meet him with a thick and robust fist; Sho dove underneath, striking with a heavy uppercut to the sternum. Glowing fist met spectral flesh, and Unit-01...was driven back.

Shinji froze at the sparking sensation that roared down his spine from the blow, choking at the strange pain in the core of his very being. What...what was...?

Sho snorted. "Heh. Never taken an actual blow before, eh? Not like you are now, I take it..." The boy grinned madly. "Crushing spirits who don't know any better? The dead are trash. Battling in the cognitive world? Big deal; the mind can be a scary place...and maybe yours is scarier than people give ya credit for...but how many of them have actually given you a straight up fight? Do you even know how?"

Shogoki roared, unleashing a devastating kick that caused the very air to sizzle. Sho rolled underneath it, leaping up and elbowing Unit-01 in the side of the head.

Stars actually flickered across Shinji's vision. What...what's happening?! Where was this power coming from? How was a high school student manifesting a strong enough A.T. Field to break through that of an Evangelion's? How...?

(There was something oppressive and heavy, behind Sho.)

(Why...can you see a skull...?)

"...some hero you are...doesn't even know how to fight properly! You know what that makes you?" roared Sho, the red streak in his hair possessing an impossible shimmer. "A big fat ZERO!"

xxxx

The yakuza so casually designated as Witless Peon (not that he know this) watched the fight with curiosity. Huh. Wonder how that punk is putting an Evangelion-user through his paces like that...? "Your buddy isn't doing so hot...looks like he hasn't been in a fight in his life."

"...I believe Shinji-kun is unused to fighting his fellow man in such circumstances," remarked Kaworu Nagisa, staring intently at the television with undeniable fascination. As the seconds continued to tick by — eventually passing a full minute — the boy's brows continued to furrow. The red-eyed boy looked...perturbed. "Minazuki is rather vicious, isn't he?"

"That's the point!" his fellow yakuza (unwittingly designated as Unthinking Thug) jeered.

"...how unfortunate." Sighing, Nagisa stood up, uncaring for his current situation. "It looks like I'll have to put him in his place."

He pressed down on the boy's shoulders, pushing him back down to the bench. "Stay seated. You're not in control here."

The boy casually looked up at him with those unnerving eyes of his, colored red as blood. "...I'll ask you only once to unhand me."

Unthinking Thug snorted. "Mouthy punk. Show some respect!" he growled, impulsively striking with a fist to the face.

CRUNCH.

Witless Peon blinked dumbly as his comrade's knuckles shattered on the boy's face. Even as his fellow yakuza shrieked from the sudden agony, the instinctive part of his brain couldn't help but notice that they boy hadn't budged in the least.

Nagisa inhaled deeply before loosing his breath. "...it seems you both have overestimated your importance in the grand scheme of things." He stared at them both without any trace of amusement whatsoever. "Allow me...to rectify that."

xxxx

Sho Minazuki, in all honesty, was disappointed.

(He ducked underneath the Evangelion's wild swing, His soul-empowered leg smashed against the thoughtbeast's ribcage.)

He had sensed the Third Child's presence at the Okayama Summer Smash. That he was here was...surprising. Unexpected.

His Other hummed thoughtfully.

"We didn't expect to face him until tomorrow at least..."

Quite frankly, Sho didn't much care. This boy's power had been hyped up so much by Shirato and Sakaki that he had half-wondered if the words of his 'patron' were up to snuff or not.

(The aura of the Evangelion began to shift — taking on the properties and powers of something else — that could have been troublesome; his hand launched a glowing fist forged from his own A.T. Field at the boy, who impulsively dodged. The shift stopped.)

Obviously, power didn't amount to match without the skill to back it up!

His Other analytically observed the Third Child.

"Hmm...he's trying to supplement his Evangelion with the power of different Personas..."

The aura of the Third Child was variable, in the sight of his Other's eyes.

"...but he has to concentrate in order to do so, it would seem."

Sho smirked widely. "What's the matter?! Too much hocus, not enough focus?!" Laughing viciously, he vaulted over the Evangelion and kicked at the boy's head.

Ikari's A.T. Field blocked the blow, but the residual force still pushed him away. The panic in the child's eyes had yet to fade.

It was absolutely mind-boggling, how important this kid seemed to be. He sure as hell didn't act like it!

(He focused on dodging the Evangelion's swings instead of trying to tank them; bouncing on his back foot, he leapt up and smashed his heel into the underside of the specter's jaw.)

As Shinji reeled from sympathetic pain, Sho gestured with wide arms towards the audience. "I must be dissing you, because you're sure being a dissappointement! HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!" Stomping towards the boy, he grabbed for his throat (his concentration had wavered so much that his A.T. Field parted with ease) and held him up high. "Come on...is this all you've got?"

Shinji struggled vainly in his grip, kicking haphazardly with weak legs; all the while, as his panic grew, his Evangelion seemed to swell with animalistic fury.

"Is it really that much different?" he said, growling with contempt. "I saw you in Atlanta, you know," he whispered. "You and all the other Evangelion-users...you at least showed some spunk while in the Metaverse...but this is just pathetic."

"...why...why...?" choked Shinji. Despite the spark in those glowing yellow eyes, his movements were weakening; the movements of his Evangelion paradoxically became more enraged as its corporeal essence began to fade.

"Why? The fact you can ask that is hilarious...it doesn't matter why. I'm going to kill you...because I can...and because I want to." He reared back his free hand, ready to smash the kid's face in.

At that moment, the sound of a rolling shutting door being ripped off of its hinges broke through the cacophony of combat; the yakuza usher (unwittingly designated as Bald Man) had been used as a battering ram.

"The hell?" spat Sho, turning towards the noise.

An ashen-haired boy (wait, he had been at the boxing tournament...!) stepped into the arena. "...I'm afraid I must intervene."

"...N...Nagisa..." gasped Shinji. It was at this point that the boy's Evangelion finally dissipated.

"...Kaworu Nagisa..." growled Sho with suspicion. "So you accepted an invite too, huh?"

"I insist that you release my roommate. I believe he's not suited for fighting you at the moment."

Sho sneered, barely resisting the urge to break the Third Child's neck right then and there...

His Other suddenly frowned.

"...this presence..."

Thunderclouds rumbled in the distance.

"Why does this power feel...similar to our patron's...?"

...but just barely. "Oh, are you his keeper?"

The sudden intrusion of Nagisa did not escape the disapproval of the crowd, either. "Beat it, kid! You're ruining the bets!" roared the announcer. To coincide with this, several other shutter doors rolled up, spewing forth two to three suited yakuza into the arena. "Get him out of here!"

Nagisa was not bothered as the various men approached with knives and brass knuckles; the size disparity did not concern him in the least. Instead, he simply cracked his knuckles. "It would seem that Shinji-kun isn't of the disposition to fight his fellow man at the moment..." That's when he moved.

Sho couldn't help but blink as the middle school student moved like water amidst the yakuza, fists sinking into guts and smashing through chins. Brass knuckles were avoided, and stabs were redirected into the sides of adjacent yakuza; the flurry of violence and mayhem lasted less than sixty seconds. By the end, however, Kaworu Nagisa stood amidst over twenty fallen men that were bleeding or unconscious; he had not a scratch on him. "...but I am under no such limitations."

"...heh." Sho callously tossed Ikari aside, who instinctively crumpled up into a ball. "You might actually be hot shit...but you're still nothing but!" His A.T. Field surged, ready to protect and crush in equal measure. "I'll make sure you suffer nice and slow, you snotty little brat."

Without warning, a fist smashed into his abdomen, driving deeply.

Sho impulsively gagged, doubling over from the impact; as such, he had a face-to-face view of Nagisa's crimson eyes, which seemed as cold as ice. "Fortunately for you, your lesson...will be quick."

xxxx

Shinji's head was swimming, and his whole body seemed sore from the inside out. Aside from the battle against Ramiel — where his final 'combination' attack alongside Ayanami had nearly torn him apart, it had felt like — he couldn't recall a time that he had felt so exhausted or weary.

Never could he recall feeling so defeated before; that was a new feeling.

(Minazuki hadn't even touched him that much, save for the choke grab at the end; all of the blows had been against Unit-01.)

(You and your Evangelion are bound; you're just unused to anything truly hurting it...)

As such, it wasn't out of the question that he was somewhat delirious; after all, in what reality did it make sense for Kaworu Nagisa to outclass Sho Minazuki?

The younger boy moved as water, shifting away from each punch and kick; even the projections of Minazuki's A.T. Field seemed to wash over Kaworu's form, delivering no damage whatsoever. (That didn't make sense. That didn't make sense.)

Sho's face had become the picture of vicious concentration: the taller boy's right straight was countered by a gut punch from Kaworu which seemed to make his eyes bug out. Sho continued to advance, striking with hooks and jabs that Kaworu somehow (somehow) managed to avoid with ease. Snarling, Sho's knee shot towards Kaworu's sternum; a simple backhand parried the knee, twisting Sho off balance. Kaworu followed up with a ferocious downward hook to the side of Sho's face, smashing the older fighter into the ground. As Sho scrambled to his feet, the ashen-haired boy advanced with an almost casual gait. "What...what the hell..." growled Sho, spitting blood to the floor.

Kaworu simply smiled. He titled his head to the right to avoid a left straight, with only his silvery hair getting brushed; he promptly punished Sho with a fist to the boy's face.

Sho stumbled back, teeth stained red from the blood leaking out of his nose; with a wretched howl, he retaliated with a blistering one-two.

Kaworu ducked underneath, stepping into an uppercut that slipped past Sho's jaw; the older boy clenched his teeth, grabbing Kaworu's outstretched wrist to keep him in place. With a wordless roar, his hand soared down towards Kaworu's face with the merciless precision of a guided missile.

Sho's fist was caught by Kaworu's free hand; with no sign of struggle (impossible), it was halted instantly, as if momentum itself had ceased to be. Seamlessly, he twisted the other hand held by Sho, latching onto the taller boy's neck and squeezing.

"Grk!" gurgled Sho, scowling at the sudden turnaround. "You-!"

Using his right foot, Kaworu swung his leg forward and swept Sho's limbs out from under him; with ruthless grace, he smashed the back of Sho's head into the floor of the arena.

Shinji couldn't see Kaworu's face from where he had fallen; however, he had the barest glimpse of Sho Minazuki's face, and the utter shock and terror could not be mistaken for anything else. What...what's going on...?

His Other was silent.

The Beast was not.

"A poor showing...but to be expected. Your hatred...needs to be kindled..."

At that point, he finally fell unconscious.

xxxx

Kaworu Nagisa stood back up, his expression fixed upon Sho Minazuki's frightful face. "Let that be a warning." Turning away, he gazed at Shinji Ikari's collapsed form. "Ah...this hasn't quite turned out the way I wanted it." There would be other opportunities, alas.

As he picked up the unconscious boy in bridal style, there was sudden protests from the announcer. "You little shit; you think you can just take down a bunch of our guys and just walk away?!"

"Yes, actually," he called out. "I believe I've had my fill for the evening...so I must bid you farewell."

"Just because you're a kid doesn't mean you're immune!"

Oh, if only they knew. Although some of the crowd wisely kept their mouths shut, not a few were incensed by how he had ruined their bets for the bout between Minazuki and Ikari. Stepping over the crumpled remnants of the shutter door, he stepped into the short hallway leading back to their waiting room; before reaching the door with the deadbolt, he paused. "...oh?" Moments later, an axe tore open the air in front of him; out of the gap stepped a familiar girl. "Ah. Mana-chan, is it not?"

Mana Kirishima let LABRYS rest on the floor, even as her eyes narrowed upon Shinji. "What happened?"

"He's simply tuckered himself out, I fear. I believe you're here to retrieve him?"

"Katsuragi got woken up by a call from Iori. She said I would be able to retrieve Ikari with the least amount of fuss." As Mana rested AIGIS upon her back, she couldn't help but stare quizzically at Kaworu. "...you feel different than you normally do."

"My, this is certainly a rather odd place to be so forward. Alas, I'm afraid I'll have to turn down your advances, Mana-chan." Kaworu held out Shinji's body towards Mana. "Here."

With her free hand, she rested Shinji against her left shoulder; despite being of similar size, she was able to carry him with relative ease. Without another word, she slashed at the air behind her, tearing a hole back into the Metaverse. "You coming?"

Kaworu shook his head. "I'll be fine on my own. Besides, I'm just a civilian; entering the cognitive world probably wouldn't be the best of ideas."

Mana, not knowing any better (oh, how little she knew), simply nodded. Turning around, she entered the gap in reality without another word, upon which the ragged seam sewed itself back up behind her.

Kaworu, still bearing a cherubic smile, crossed the last few meters towards the waiting room. Opening it up, a scene of macabre carnage awaited him: the entirety of the room was coated with a thin layer of rendered human flesh and organs, colored a red that was almost burnt orange in its shade. The remains of the yakuza dubbed as Witless Peon and Unthinking Thug coated the room, save for a blank spot where Kaworu had stood when he had...well, made an example of them. Their effects — crumpled suits that had collapsed onto their empty shoes — were practically soaked. The same could be said for his poor hoodie, which had not been spared the unexpected shower. "...how unfortunate," he said, holding a garment that had become quite encrusted. "Now I'll have to get a new one."

At that precise moment, the waiting room was opened from the outside hallway; a few yakuza wielding handguns would have stormed in, if not for their impulsive repulsion for the sticky mess that the room had become. "Oh gods, what the hell?!"

Kaworu's expression was rather enigmatic: not quite a smile, not quite a frown, but certainly not neutral. "My apologies to the cleaning crew." Without another word, he seemed to vanish from sight, as if he had never been.

xxxx

Through the streets of Okayama, Sho Minazuki walked with a rather surly attitude.

Although that underground fighting ring had quickly tried to clean things up to continue the matches, Sho's appetite for participating had all but crumbled into ash...because what the hell. (All it had taken was a single glare for those yakuza wannabes ) That debacle had been...he didn't even know how to describe it!

His Other paced quietly, and methodically.

"Perhaps...it would be best to get answers directly."

Suddenly, they looked away with alarm.

"...though perhaps we will be getting them regardless."

Sho huffed, keeping an eye open for any nearby public toilets; finding one, he promptly stomped inside, closing the stall door behind him. Rather than take a squat, he simply leaned against the wall...and focused.

Reality fell away...darkness rose...and as all sensory sensations became numb, his mind's eye gazed upon a distant moon.

From that distant object, a deathly skull gazed upon him.

"SHO MINAZUKI," thundered Zeruel.

"What the HELL was all that about?" roared Sho. "That kid...that power-!"

Zeruel's eyes flashed; Sho gagged, his entire body going still. As he fell to his knees, the Angel of Might said, "

THAT BOY...THAT VESSEL...IS WELL KNOWN AS THE HOST OF TABRIS. IT IS NOT IN OUR INTEREST FOR ATTENTION TO BE DRAWN TO HIM UNNECESSARILY." Zeruel's entire being seemed to loom over him, overshadowing all things. "HAD YOU NOT LET YOUR BLOODLUST TAKE HOLD OF YOU, HE WOULD HAVE LET THINGS PLAY OUT."

Sho snorted at the hypocrisy. "Oh that's REAL rich coming from you-!"

Zeruel's eyes flashed; once more, Sho fell to his knees. "

TESTING THE STRENGTH OF IKARI WOULD HAVE BEEN ONE THING. HOWEVER, IN YOUR...ZEAL...YOU SOUGHT TO END HIS LIFE AS AN ACT OF PETULANT WHIMSY. THAT WOULD HAVE RUINED MANY THINGS."

"What are ya looking for, a damn apology?"

"SUCH WOULD BE WORTHLESS FROM ONE SUCH AS YOU." Zeruel's entire face was all he could see, now. "DO NOT FORGET YOUR PLACE, SHO MINAZUKI; I AM NOT AS BARDIEL AND IRUEL, WHO TOLERATED YOUR DUPLICITOUS SCHEMING SO MANY LIFETIMES AGO." There was a vision of fire, and a horned being emerging from a foggy sky. "HI-NO-KAGUTSUCHI, BORN OF HAZE AND TERROR, WAS PERFECTLY WILLING TO USE YOUR UNDERHANDEDNESS TO THEIR OWN ADVANTAGE." Zeruel's eyes burned like suns. "MY TOLERANCE IS CONSIDERABLY LESSER."

"...crystal..." growled Sho.

"DO NOT FORGET THAT IT WAS YOU WHO CHOSE TO THROW YOUR LOT IN WITH US."

"Not as a tool...not as a pawn..."

"THE LILIM'S CAPACITY FOR SELF-DELUSION NEVER CEASES TO AMAZE," observed Zeruel. "YOUR DESIRED OUTCOME WOULD RENDER SUCH TRIFLES MEANINGLESS. IF YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT, THEN THE QUESTION OF 'WHO IS THE MASTER' AND 'WHO IS THE SERVANT' WILL BE IRRELEVANT." The will of Zeruel impressed itself upon him with all the force of a pile driver. "THERE MAY YET BE UNEXPECTED FRUIT THAT WILL BLOSSOM FROM THIS ENCOUNTER, SO MY DISPLEASURE IS NOT TOTAL. BE GRATEFUL."

"Tch. Grateful. Sure."

"YOU WILL PLAY YOUR PART TOMORROW. YOU WILL RUN RAMPANT, SO THAT BARDIEL'S THRALLS CAN ACCOMPLISH THEIR OBJECTIVE. AND IF, BY CHANCE, YOU SHOULD HAPPEN TO ENCOUNTER IKARI ONCE MORE...YOU WILL KEEP MY WORDS IN MIND."

Sho couldn't help but snort. "So many people lining up to kiss his ass...he's nothing but a scared and wimpy child..."

"MERELY THREATENING HIS OWN EXISTENCE IS SOMETIMES INSUFFICIENT TO ROUSE THE DEPTHS OF HIS IRE, GIVEN HIS NATURE. I DOUBT THAT YOUR ACTIONS TOMORROW WILL HAVE THE SAME LACK OF EFFECT."

"Ah, so he's another one of those wimpy goody-two-shoes types. Great."

Zeruel's gaze began to burn. "

DISCARD MY WARNINGS AT YOUR OWN PERIL. THOUGH YOU ARE USEFUL, YOU ARE NOT IRREPLACEABLE. REMEMBER THAT."

"...crystal."

"YOUR VENGEANCE WILL COME IN DUE TIME. UNTIL THEN...YOU WILL ACT AS I COMMAND."

"...understood." With those words, the utter presence of the Angel of Might seemed to fade away...

and at last, Sho blinked rapidly, breathing in great, gulping gasps. He had fallen on his hands and knees on the floor of the bathroom stall. "...shit," he growled.

"Boy, whatever you ate must not have agreed with you!" blithely commented the stranger in the stall next door.

"Shut up," he impulsively growled, slamming the stall door open and walking out of the public restrooms. Well...that could have gone better.

His Other quietly touched at burn wounds.

"As much as it galls...it is a reminder of our own place."

He pondered the image of Kaworu Nagisa and Shinji Ikari.

"Whatever they are playing at is not our concern...not at the moment."

Sho couldn't help but sigh, brushing at his sore nose. If nothing else, his 'bond' with the Angel of Might had some perks; by tomorrow, his nose would no longer be broken. Guess I'll just have to see then...

Tomorrow promised to be very interesting indeed.

xxxx

END OF 8/8/2015

xxxx

Author's Note: Hoo boy, August 9 promises to be a doozy. (And the new moon's only five days away...)

Let's recap this chapter!

- A meeting of the minds with Mister P, P4!Fox, Koromaru, Teddie, Akechi, Kaji's Shadow, and Morgana(!)
- Misato and Mana had a little heart-to-heart of sorts.
- Ren meets Morgana on-screen! (Mayumi was also being sus...or rather, Armisael was by proxy.)
- Kaworu, Akihiko, and Sho all showed off their boxing chops. (As an FYI, Senbei Takeshi is an expy/Captain Ersatz of Sendo Takeshi from "Hajime no Ippo."
- The Death Social Link with Kaworu hit Rank 3!
- Shinji somehow ended up in a sidestory mission straight out of the Yakuza games.
- Sho Minazuki introduced himself to the protagonist with his fists. Kaworu then introduced Sho to the floor...also with his fists.
- Zeruel put Sho in the corner for being naughty. (We also found out that Hi-no-Kagutsuchi, the final boss of P4 Ultimax Arena's story, was a facet born of Bardiel and Iruel, much like Nyx was born of Zeruel and Tabris.)

Next time...well, we'll have to wait and see what Strega has planned.