Author's note: This story takes place after the end of Thrice Upon a Time. Full spoilers ahead. I'm not ret-conning anything from the series, other than to ignore the scene between Asuka and Shinji on the beach at the end. And that is only for dramatic reasons.
There is some creative interpretation at work on my part as well...
My stories get dark, but I am not a bleak ending kind of person. I'll just say that.
I think that's all I need to say. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.
Asuka opens her eyes all at once. Had she been sleeping, or had she been floating through an abyss?
Her hand is warm. She lifts it up and looks at it. Cool, early morning sunlight streams over it from the open window. There are no cuts or bruises on it, except for the one, where she had nicked her thumb trying to cut the onion how Kensuke had taught her.
She rolls her head. Kensuke is lying on his side, his back to her, splashy brown hair making a mess all over his pillow. How slovenly. His chest moves up and down easily with his breathing. It must be early if he's still sleeping.
She feels something in her chest, and immediately rises, deciding it's time to get the day started.
"Hmphrm," Kensuke mumbles, mostly asleep.
"Shh," Asuka replies, putting one finger on his lips.
She feels like a giant, fumbling through their hilltop house. She's still not accustomed to her thirty year old body. It's only been three days, after all. Kensuke says she's perfect, even skinny for an adult, but she feels like an ogre. There's far too much skin on her legs, her middle… and not as much on her chest as there should be. Her hips wiggle as she walks. Not intentionally, like they used to when she wanted it. Now they do it automatically, without her permission. She hates it.
She hates a lot of things about this perfect new world.
She fills a kettle and sets it on the burner for tea. Kensuke will say he's going to have white tea, then change his mind and ask for black, like every morning.
Every morning. She says that like it hasn't only been three days.
It feels like forever.
Standing in front of the stove, she turns to the empty space down the central walk.
She jabs, once, twice, then kicks into the air.
No.
Bad.
Too slow.
Her foot did not even get over her head.
She's becoming soft.
Useless.
It's only been three days. How much worse can it get?
She spent half her life with her perfect little body. Hard. Sharp. Deadly. No youth to speak of, she knew only war. She didn't care that she was born during the Second Impact. She didn't care about the world that came before. She cares about the world after the Third Impact. The one Shinji stole from her.
She breathes almost audibly, swaying slightly to the soft sound of the gas flame.
No, not Shinji. Gendoh. NERV. SEELE. All of them. The adults. The fools. The 'god-slayers' of the old world.
Fifteen years of ceaseless fighting and nothing but this crappy shack and that ding-dong Kensuke to keep her company.
And she had lived for it.
She shivers. That achey feeling is still there. The one she's always known.
Old feelings, and an older body. She gets the worst of both worlds.
Hating herself every second of it, she snatches the face-down mirror from the top of the washing machine, peering into it.
It's like someone made a mockery of her face. All the skin is sagging. There are bags under her eyes. Her two, flame-bright eyes, signature eyepatch lost to time. Her hair is cut just like it used to be, when she was perfect, only it's not her body it's attached to, and she hates it.
"Thirty isn't even old," Kensuke would say.
With a spasm, she resists grabbing the kettle of hot water and hurling it into the wall.
She can hear Kensuke smacking his lips, sitting up on the mat now. It pisses her off.
"Eh…" he says, scratching his head, "late start today, I guess. Ah, it can't be helped. I sleep so well next to you."
Asuka sleeps better next to him, too.
She hates it.
Mari emerges from sleep with a lioness yawn. Wasting no time, she balls up her fists and stretches out hugely, taking up the entire mat.
It matters little because Shinji is, of course, already awake. She can hear the sink in the kitchen of his little apartment.
The sheets aren't silk, unfortunately–couldn't he have done something about that?-but they are sheer and cool and oh so comfy.
She purrs, settling back into them. No, no more sleeping. There is a day to be conquered. The ripe juices of life to be squeezed into her waiting mouth.
She pops to her feet like she's spring-loaded, doing a couple twists. Not quite as spry as she's used to being–there were advantages to the Evangelion's curse of youth. Still…
She handles her chest for the twentieth time in the last three days. God, they really are even bigger than they used to be. Only…
She touches her tummy again. What is with this? It's not like she's tossing back beers all the time. Is it Shinji's cooking? At this rate, she's going to get a gut…
All well, there are ways to fix that.
Anything is possible now, after all.
Anything except piloting.
The thought floats through her mind like she floats to the kitchen. She succeeds, yet again, to grab Shinji before he's aware of her.
"Gah!" he cries, water splashing his lacy apron.
"You know," she starts, "with this apron on, I don't understand why you need all these clothes."
Shinji chuckles, embarrassed. "Ah, good morning, Mari."
Mari narrows her eyes, chin resting on his shoulder. He's so skittish. He's trying to find a nice way to tell her she can't stay over every night, she can tell. Well, if he wants that privilege, he's going to have to grow a pair and tell her himself.
She presses her chest against his back. "You got out of bed quickly. Why such a rush…?" She nibbles his ear.
"Ah, well…" Shinji starts. "I knew there were a lot of dishes left, after last night."
Mari blinks. So lame. Diligence is well and all, but what exactly does Shinji think young couples do? Wake up half naked next to each other and just get ready and go to work?
"Shin-jiii," she coos, "dishes can wait."
"A tidy home is a happy home," Shinji replies.
Mari rolls her eyes. Really? Fourteen yesterday and a middle aged father today?
She strokes his chest with her hand. She loves the way it feels. Softer, yes, than his body before, but underneath the thin layer of fat are thicker muscles, as if from years from honest work and solid meals. Warmth rises to her cheeks, and she smiles.
Maybe age isn't so bad…
He's tense, under her. She can feel it. He's still wary of contact. Intimacy.
What is the matter with him?
A busty dreamgirl snatches him from the the jaws of disexistence and lands him in a cozy apartment, pins him under seventy kilos of porcelain wunderland and he wants to get up and do the dishes instead?
It's the same with Rei and Asuka. Uptight, distracted, tormented. Like being Children is some kind of curse. Never hurt her… There must be something in the water in Japan that makes kids prisoner of their darkest fears.
Well… she's probably being cavalier again. It's okay, it's not like she said it out loud.
"You're not really–" she starts.
"Yes, Mari," says Shinji, "I've got class at ten and the trains are packed this time of morning. I've got to leave in probably fifteen minutes."
She rolls her eyes as hard as she can. Did he whisk away his junk when he remade the world?
She knows for a fact he didn't.
"And what am I supposed to do?" she asks petulantly.
He turns around, looking at her like she's crazy, of all things. "Probably report for duty?"
She pouts. Training fighter jet pilots is a pretty sweet gig, she probably should stay in good standing there, just in case for a fleeting, misguided moment command decides she might be… less than perfect for the role.
Truthfully, she loves it, she absolutely does. It's perfect for her.
But so is the way she feels when they're together. She traces her finger around his chest. He doesn't respond, scrubbing an already perfect-looking pan.
"You know," she starts, "since you went and remade the world, and everything, I don't really see why you couldn't give yourself slightly better digs. And why school? You could be whoever you wanted. You could be a general. The emperor."
"It's not like that," Shinji replies succinctly. "You know that."
"Isn't it, though?"
"And what should I be, Mari?" He must be serious because he actually puts the dishes down and turns around, hands still dripping. "Should I have made myself president of the world?"
Her eyes widen, the possibilities flooding in. "Oh… I could have been the Queen…"
He laughs, covering his face with his hand. "Mari…" He grabs her perfect hands with his wet ones. "I didn't change anything. I made the world the way it ought to be. I didn't change anything, anything. I… let it be. They way it was meant to. If mankind never intervened. Without evas, without SEELE, and… everything else.
"Why am I a student? Because that's who I would be. Who I want to be! Do you know how happy I am to go to class every day?"
Mari pouts cutely. "Yeah…" she grumbles. "S'pose."
"Mari," he says, with strong eye contact, "you're amazing."
She blinks. That's… not what she expected.
"But you can't stay here every night," he finishes.
She inhales sharply. Wh… he's not supposed to say that… not so soon!
It must show on her face, because he cups her cheek and kisses her on the lips. Her eyes close involuntarily. It's pretty good.
He pulls away.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know," he says.
She frowns for three and a half seconds, then leaps on him.
"Mmph, Mari!" he says into her chest.
"Less cliches, more risque!" she protests.
"You're outrageous, you know that?"
"I'm full of life and I deserve to be worshipped!"
"I need to get dressed!"
"Let me help you!"
"Hey, let go of that!" He laughs. "I don't know what to do with you!"
"Fortunately, I do, now be a good boy and listen…"
"Stop!"
His collar is in her teeth now. She grins fiercely.
Maybe things are working out just fine.
Rei punches out the last few characters on the line, the typewriter making sharp clacks with each depressed key. It's satisfying, but her fingers still stumble over the unfamiliar keys. She moves the platen back into starting position. Without muscle memory, it takes a little longer than it should. She will get better.
She has a laptop, and she writes like the wind on it. She got the typewriter to try something a little different. Something less electronic. Something more worldly. She tried writing by pen, but that was too slow.
She's not sure she likes it yet, but that's okay. It's an experiment. Which is the essence of being alive, of being human.
She is a human, and she's going to live like one. She's very determined.
She furrows her brow. The typewriter is making writing harder, for now, but maybe it will be just right for her, in the long run. Maybe it will be like her signature.
A signature. Something to show the world who she is. Something quite human.
She sips her green tea, pleased with the thought.
She's pleased a lot lately, at least since she woke up three days ago, a writer in pre-Second Impact Tokyo. Published, even! The thought thrills her. It had been years of diligent work after school. Many misfires… It's difficult to bring a novel to completion. But she'd managed to get in with a publisher two years ago, and now she makes enough money that she only has to work part-time at the old bookstore two stops away. Enough to afford a humble little apartment with humble little decorations and humble little plants that she is trying, trying to keep alive.
It's quiet, peaceful, meaningful, and all for her.
She blinks. Isn't it odd, to have something just for her?
It's odd, to have thirty years of memories that she didn't live… but that she remembers perfectly well. That she can feel. She knows they're real, as real as her heart.
Of course, she can also remember a different past.
She's wondered about that. Should she still remember NERV? Gendoh? The years of duty? The Tenth Angel? Shinji's hand, reaching for her.
Stripped to their souls, the power of that moment had been beyond anything she knew to be possible. She almost didn't recognize him. His eyes were so fierce. He had to be, to reach her all the way down there. She had been sure she would remain there forever, but Shinji's determination to take her hand, it had been absolute. She wasn't sure what the right decision was.
But it felt right, to take his hand, to come back to the world. She's glad she did.
She sips her tea, tiny tremors in her fingers. Feelings. Power. Pain. She is a girl of two worlds now. Rei Ayanami, Evangelion Pilot.
And Rei Ayanami, young, modest writer.
She sips.
This is good. She wants it all. She would have it no other way.
There is a knock at her door.
She blinks. This is unusual. Rei Ayanami, modest writer, does not often get visitors. Only a few people know where she lives. A few, dear friends.
She rises, walks to the door, and opens it. It's Kaworu, of course.
"Good morning!" he says cheerfully.
She looks up. She hasn't been outside today yet. The sun is bright and young. Still morning, that's why she wasn't done writing for the day, why this feels like an interruption.
Kaworu scratches the back of his head in mock chagrin. "Ah, sorry to disturb you so early."
She meets his eyes with an earnest smile. "You never disturb me, Kaworu. Come in."
"Hmm," he says, a finger on his chin, "better yet, why don't you come out? We can have a walk."
Rei blinks. A walk with a friend. An interruption, but a good one. She hasn't been outside today. It is welcome.
She smiles. "Let me get my shoes."
Her apartment complex is a bit dingy, but serviceable. There are cracks in the plaster, and one of the TV antennas has fallen down. Maintenance will probably fix it in a few days. The courtyard is grassy, with a couple old trees sticking up from the soil. Not planted in any real planned way. Possibly, they sprouted from seeds dropped by birds long ago, and no one thought to remove them.
She and Kaworu turn onto the sidewalk outside her complex. The light traffic of her suburb burbles by, and the boulevard is spotted with little trees in the sidewalks. It's nice.
"You've been adjusting well," says Kaworu.
She looks at him in surprise. He's talking about the Waking. Or, that's what she calls it. Most people she meets don't seem to want to acknowledge it. In fact, many people seem not to recall it at all. Like nothing has changed in the last three days. Like it had always been this way.
Just as it should be.
Kaworu is not like that, though. He always speaks the truth.
"Mm," she nods. "Although, I don't even know that I would say 'adjust.' It feels just right."
Kaworu smiles with deep warmth. "It makes me happy to hear you say that. I'm happy as well."
What is it Kaworu does? Oh yes, how could she forget? He is a piano tutor. Parents with some money to spare pay him to teach their children to play. It's quite wonderful.
"That's good," she says honestly.
They walk in silence for a while longer. A few blocks from her apartment, the Tama River becomes visible down a long hill. Bridges cross its brownish blue waters every few kilometers. In Tokyo-3, these boroughs had long been destroyed, those bridges twisting masses of metal, shadows of what they had once been.
But not here.
"And how has been your thinking?" Kaworu asks her.
She looks back at him, this time confused. "What do you mean?"
Kaworu has a simple smile, but keen eyes. He is no fool. "We all carry baggage from the past. Now, we make room in the closets of our new apartments. How have you been settling in?"
"Oh." Rei blinks. He asked about her outer peace, before, now he is asking after her inner peace.
A profound question.
She thinks of her reverie, moments before he knocked on her door.
"It is good," she nods. "I regret nothing."
Kaworu smiles until the crinkles of his mouth almost touch the crinkles by his eyes. "You know, only the truly wise can say so much with so little words."
Wise?
It is not a word she has ever applied to herself.
"Have you been concerned for me?" she asks. She begins to wonder if he had a purpose to his visit.
"I am concerned for all those that I love," he replies. "You not least of all. We have a special connection, you and I. I wondered if this world would have a place for me. But here I am, after all. Isn't it wondrous?"
A bell rings in her heart, and her eyes wetten, just a little. "It is wondrous indeed."
"A fresh world, alight with mortal life. True life, seeking, striving. Falling, as it is meant to. A world with light, and shadow to provide contrast. A world of imperfections. I wonder if that is what it was, that made SEELE's dream impossible, in the end. To iron out all imperfections, and render our souls into a continuum of perpetual joy."
Rei frowns. He's losing her. She bites her lip. Is that what it was? Was Gendoh's dream always doomed to fail?
"But," he says, covering his eyes with his hand for a moment, "lest you think I came only to wax philosophical with my favorite writer… I have been concerned. For a friend."
Rei blinks. Does he not think she is alright? "Kaworu." She finds herself placing a hand on his arm. "Don't worry for me. Things are good here. And I'm not alone. I have my friends. I have you."
Kaworu breaks into another big smile. "Ah, Rei. You are right! Only it's not you I've been worried about."
"Oh?" Now Rei's heart dips. Of whom does he speak?
Kaworu bites his lip. He's oddly hesitant. It's not like him.
"Kaworu," says Rei, "speak your mind."
His face contorts, betraying his misgivings. Finally he blurts. "It's Asuka."
Rei blinks. Asuka. The girl of fire. Why does he worry for her? She thinks. "Kaworu… do you know Asuka?"
"I know all the Children," he replies, speaking more quickly now, "but that's not the reason. I spoke to Shinji, just yesterday. She hasn't been taking his calls. He hasn't seen her in the last three days. The last three days, Rei. Something is off. Something is not right. He worries for her, and that's enough for me to…"
His lip quivers, like Asuka was his own dear sister, and ill. She could almost laugh, but she doesn't. It's because of Shinji. Of course, this is all making sense now. Shinji is worried, therefore Kaworu is worried. It is as simple as that.
Kaworu is hoping she can help.
"You wish for me to call her," says Rei.
He looks up, poorly concealing his hope. "Would you?"
Rei smiles. "Sure."
Kaworu fidgets. Was he hoping she would call her right now? Wow, he is anxious.
She sets her lip. A human has boundaries as well.
"I shall call her this afternoon. Don't worry, I'll report back with my 'findings.'"
Kaworu exhales, shaking his hands a little. "I'm not used to this… anxiety. What is this? I lived for decades in a world torn by war. Existential war. And now this… the interdependency of people is like a fearsome beast. It scares me more than any warlike angel."
For some reason, Rei smiles at this. "You were never afraid of the angels."
"Yes, well… Even so. Have I become more human than I know?" he asks her. He seems to really want the answer.
Rei looks back affectionately. "I hope so."
Asuka barges through the door into their hovel. Their house. Whatever. She drops the heavy bag of tools by the door. Her overalls are hot, her clothes are practically sticking to her from the sweat. It had been another long day of fixing AC units. Tokyo Summers are hot–even Second-Impact-never-happened Summers. There seem to be an infinite number to fix.
"A-wooooh!" says Kensuke, stretching off the day's hard work. "Maybe we ought to get an AC, huh?" he jokes lamely.
Asuka's brow twitches in annoyance and she cranks open the rusty old windows, letting the hilltop breeze roll through the house. The breeze is a massive relief. She unbuckles her overalls and lets the upper half flop down to her legs, exposing more of her skin to the cool air. She sighs, momentarily satisfied.
She feels a sharp craving for a cold beer. There's a little fridge with them, near the shower.
Then she remembers Misato's apartment, and she changes her mind.
"Tough work out there, isn't it?" Kensuke asks. There's something he's not saying, and it pisses Asuka off. "Never thought a cutie like you would be joining me for maintenance."
"Don't talk like one of the Idiots," says Asuka. It's her word, with a capital 'I,' for the people who don't remember or act like they don't remember that they all woke up together three days ago into a Brave New Hell.
Kensuke remembers, she knows he does. Or she couldn't have beared so much as to touch him.
"Ah…" he says, scratching the side of his head. "Alright, I won't beat around the bush. Have you thought of going back to the yard yet? Ishikawa has called me every day asking after you. He says you won't pick up your phone. Salmon season is coming up after all… some of the best pay of the year, and they need help."
Asuka snorts.
He's talking about 'her job.' The one she had when she woke up three days ago. Fisherwoman. Are you serious?
It's not that she doesn't remember, she does. Hungry for glory, she enlisted in the Japanese military when she was eighteen, against her aunt's wishes. Not that Asuka ever had any intention of her pseudo-parent making any meaningful decisions in her life. She was just the closest living relative after her parents both died before she was fourteen.
It turns out, though, the military isn't nearly as glamorous when you're not a one-in-a-million Evangelion pilot. She'd left of her own volition at twenty one.
There had been years of odd jobs, but by twenty seven she'd settled on fishing, because something about it made her hate life not so much. They respected her out there. Her strong body and swift thinking came in handy when the waters got rough. And in Sagama Bay and the outer channels, they often did.
But that was all pretend, as far as she was concerned. That Asuka didn't remember.
But she did.
"I'll think about it," she said, noncommittal. It's the same answer she'd given him the last three days when he asked why she had abandoned her spot on deck to drive around Tokyo and fix mundane machinery with him.
She could tell he wasn't satisfied, giving a fake 'what can you do?' smile. But Kensuke is not one to press. Especially not her. That's part of what she likes about him. He's safe that way.
She begins to fill the big pot with water. She's damn hungry and she's going to load up on gyoza. Kensuke picks up the bag she dropped and returns it to the workbench where it belongs. While he's there, he seems to become distracted with one of the many side projects he has been working on.
It's just the way she likes it for a while. No talking. No questions. No probing into her… anything. Just the two of them together. Far enough to be comfortable. Close enough that she's not alone.
He looks up, shattering the peace. "Oh, I almost forgot. Who was it that called you today? Not Ishikawa, I take it."
Asuka's brow twitches. She'd almost managed to forget about that.
She'd been ratcheting an old, half-stripped bolt off yet another AC cover, already envisioning the component she'd need to replace because they're all the same on this block. It had been resisting her, and there's no shade here and her scalp is burning because she'd refused to take the work cap that Kensuke had offered her because it messes with her hair.
And then, her phone rang.
She dropped the ratchet and yanked it out of her pocket, actually looking forward to aggressively dismissing the call, when she saw the name Rei Ayanami on the screen.
Momentarily stunned, she answered the call before she could think about it.
"Moshi moshi," she said automatically.
"Asuka! I'm glad I could reach you."
Asuka's brow twitched as she resumed trying to ratchet the junker in front of her. Really?
"What can I help you with, Original Batch?"
There's a silence on the line and, sickly, Asuka relishes it. She struck a nerve.
"I know that's your name for the other girl," says Rei, in a less cheerful tone. "You know that's not me. Please call me Rei."
"As you wish, Star Child," Asuka responds. "What's up?"
Asuka can practically hear her frowning.
"I only wanted to inquire after you."
"Inquire?" Asuka says sarcastically. "Are the police after me?"
"No, certainly not. Kaworu asked after you."
"Kaworu?" Asuka says, actually surprised. She knows of him, she certainly doesn't know him.
"Well," says Rei, "Shinji asked Kaworu, and Kaworu asked me."
Asuka's hand stops cranking. Just for a second. She turns the wrench sharply and the bolt drops to the rough-textured roof sheeting. "Touching."
"How have you been? I haven't spoken to you–"
"In fourteen years," Asuka finishes for her.
Rei is silent again. Will she play stupid? Is she an Idiot? Surely not, right? Will she cite memories from the last weeks and months, when they got dinner and drinks and the time that Suzuhara coaxed them all into a picnic at Miura Park?
Asuka lets that be the deciding factor. Of whether or not she will hang up the phone right there, and never speak to Rei again.
"Yes," Rei says finally. "Yes, it has been a very long time."
Asuka frowns, almost disappointed. She pries the plate off the AC unit with her fingers, letting it fall to the rooftop.
"I thought of you often, Asuka."
Asuka's hands stop moving. She feels sluggish, suddenly. She doesn't like it, but she can't make her voice work either.
"I was always with you there in the Wunder, in Unit 01. I…" Rei seems to search for words.
Asuka frowns. All the snarky comments she could offer die before reaching her lips. She wants to know.
"I… could not reach you," why does that sound like a lie? "I could only protect you from a distance. I was glad to. I was glad to help you all. Against the angels. Against NERV even. I had faith, that things would work out as they should."
Mouth dry, Asuka finally goes to speak again, but Rei is not finished.
"I watched you, though," says Rei.
Now Asuka's hand starts trembling, and she starts thinking if she should hang up after all.
"I watched you all, because I cared about you so. You not least of all. I thought of our last conversation, in the elevator."
Asuka is breathing fast through her nose.
"I was never angry. Not then, not ever. You understand that, don't you?"
A question. Meant to be answered. Asuka's eyes search desperately. "I don't remember that," she lies.
"Ah," says Rei. "Well, just know that I was always with you, even when you felt alone."
Trapped in a thirty year old body, suddenly Asuka feels six again.
And she hates it.
"Rei, I have some work I'm kind of in the middle of here," she says, her voice wavering only a little.
"Ah," says Rei stupidly. "I interrupted you. Um… I'm glad you took my call, Asuka. I'll call you again, ok?"
"Whatever you say, Star Child," Asuka replies, hanging up.
Now, back in her kitchen, Asuka stands staring down at the pot she had been filling. The water spills out over all the sides.
"Asuka?" Kensuke calls.
She blinks, and turns off the faucet.
"It was no one," she says.
There's a pause. Too long. "Ah," he replies. "Gyoza again?"
"Damn straight," says Asuka.
Kensuke chuckles. "Fantastic."
Asuka becomes aware of herself. She's clutching her knees. They're small, sharp. Good for breaking jaws. They're right. This brings her comfort, and she hugs them close.
It's a warm feeling. She's comfortable, but… what is this feeling? It's so familiar. Ah, her suit. It creaks. Her plug suit. The red and orange one. Her favorite.
She's in her plug suit. Why is she in her plug suit?
She opens her eyes. She doesn't see anything.
"Huh?" she says stupidly. The sound leaves her lips and goes nowhere. It's dark.
She looks around her. There's nothing. Black. She looks under her. There's no ground. It's just black. There's nothing.
Only her.
The feeling starts to change. Her breathing quickens. It's only her. Not a thought, not an anything.
What's going on? She doesn't like this. She doesn't like this anymore.
It's cold. Is it cold? It wasn't like this before. Was it like this before?
Now she clutches her knees for warmth. It feels like the heat is being pulled from her from every direction, into the void. She's going to freeze. She's scared.
"Misato?" she calls. She sounds like a little girl, and she hates herself for it.
There's no controls, no plug, no anything. She's alone.
Alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone.
A whirring sound reverberates through her skull until she's gritting her teeth and squeezing the sides of her head.
I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!
Why am I in hell? What did I do wrong?
It's what she always wanted.
"No!" she shrieks in anguish.
She's getting colder, she's going to freeze. She's going to die.
"Please!" she begs. "Please don't let this happen! I don't want this! I don't deserve this! I don't deserve–"
She deserves so much worse.
"No!" she cries. Tears fall from her eyes and are pulled away into nothing. "Please don't let this happen…" She's gibbering, her lips quiver, snot falling from her nose.
"Please don't leave me in hell…"
Then she sees it. Far, far away. A ball of light. A star? It's twinkling. It's growing brighter.
"Wha…?"
Her heart swells. Whatever it is, it's something. Something that isn't nothing.
"Mommy?" she pips, hating herself for it.
The light gets brighter.
Asuka.
Asuka's heart jumps. What… what is this? Who is this?
Asuka.
The light is getting bigger? How big can it be? It's huge, it's filling her vision, covering everything.
Asuka, I'm coming.
She's scared now. Before she was alone, but this… she doesn't know if she wants this. This is–it's so bright, it almost burns.
Asuka, I can hear you.
She's scared now, she's trembling all the way down to her legs. She's so exposed. She doesn't even have a plug. Just naked space and this… this thing.
All she can see is white now. She can't make out any details. But there are details… there's… is that a person? Is that a hand?
It reaches for her chest.
I won't leave you alone, Asuka.
She screams.
Asuka bolts awake, and she's already sweating. The room sways before her, half-real. Moonlight. Where is she?
She sits and breathes until she's sure she's in the house, on the hill. She rubs her damp hands into the mat beneath her. It's familiar to her.
There's a rustling. "Asuka?" comes Kensuke's sleep-choked voice.
She turns to see him looking up at her with bewildered, half-conscious eyes.
"I had a bad dream," she says, and she can't believe how calm she sounds. "Go back to sleep."
He considers her for another two seconds, then collapses back onto his pillow.
She clutches her left hand with her right, stilling the trembling as best she can. She looks out the window. She can see the moon.
There are many hours left until dawn.