I don't like to remember my childhood. It's like staring into a black hole—once you get caught up in it, there's no escape. Sure, there are happy memories in there but no matter where I start, every path twists and turns and drags me back to the same inescapable point. The one memory I can't outrun. So it's just safer to stay far away.
Maybe it's the stress of the upcoming test, but yesterday, a memory surfaced—one that I had buried somewhere deep. It just sprang up and wouldn't leave, no matter how hard I tried. It was one of my first Harmonics Tests, I think. It had to be not long after Mama died because Papa was with me that day—He still pretended to care back then.
We walked into this cold, sterile room, and I remember these towering figures in lab coats, talking about me like I wasn't even there. I didn't have a clue what they were saying or what it all meant, so I clung to Papa's hand. One of the lab coats crouched down to my level. I don't remember a face, just this big, toothy smile.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," they said. "But you have to be a little brave. Can you do that?" Of course, I could. I was chosen, right? And Mama would be proud if I was brave. I still thought she might come back if I did really well. I didn't fully comprehend what death meant yet.
The lab coats strapped me into this weird chair and stuck electrodes all over me. After that, it's a blur. Flashing lights, loud noises, me screaming for Papa to make it stop. I just kept calling for him, over and over.
When they finally unstrapped me, I looked around for him, still expecting him to come rushing in and tell me everything going to be alright. But he didn't. He couldn't, because he wasn't there anymore. He had left. He had abandoned me just like he had abandoned Mama.
That day I learned a very important lesson: No one is coming to save me. If I want to survive, I have to do it myself.
And then, years later, the worst excuse for a boy imaginable shows up—and the first thing he does? He saves my life by jumping into an active volcano. Then he saves my life again. And again. And now we're friends. Someone, please make sense of that.
The wagon shudders slightly as I glance at Shinji sitting across from me. We're on a priority line meant exclusively for NERV staff, heading straight to the Geofront. Today's the big day. My last chance to be someone—or to fade away like Ayanami.
I take another peek at Shinji. He seems nervous, the way he stares out the window all tense. He's been acting weird since I told him about my meeting with Captain Leiss. I thought he'd be happy for me but instead, he's…well, weirder than usual. I mean it's my future's on the line here and not his so why's he acting weird?
Shinji looks over and our eyes lock for a moment. My heart skips, and I whip my head away, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. Did he catch me staring? I risk another look. Crap, he's still looking.
"Stop staring at me like that," I snap. "It freaks me out."
"What? You were looking at me first!"
"Yeah, right. Nice try, but I know what a huge pervert you are. I haven't forgotten that you groped me."
"You fell asleep at the kitchen table! What was I supposed to do ?"
"How about waking me up instead of hauling me around like a sack of potatoes? Who knows what kind of perverted things you did to me while I was asleep."
"Last time I woke you up, you punched me," he mutters, crossing his arms defensively. "I'm not doing that anymore."
"Oh, so now we're bringing that up again. I already told you—you startled me! Not that it's an excuse for manhandling me," I smirk. "Bet that's the same excuse you feed all the other girls after pawing all over them."
"I don't even know any other girls," he mumbles.
"Oh, really? Then who was the girl who came by the apartment asking for you?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. Not the smartest move but it's all I can think of to keep the conversation going and distract myself from the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach.
"Huh?" Shinji looks genuinely confused.
"Few days ago," I say and shrug. "Black hair, round face, Azada or something. Pretty average-looking if you ask me. You were busy so I sent her away."
"Oh—" Something seems to click in his brain. "What did she want?"
"How the hell should I know? Do I look like your secretary? Who's she anyway?"
"I think she's one of the tutors. We talked online a bit. She offered to help me with my assignments. She seemed nice, and—"
"And so you gave her your address and invited her over? Are you stupid?"
"No, I didn't give her my address! Why are you so angry all of a sudden?"
"I'm not angry, you're just a total ass-clown. Now shut up. I need to focus. This test is kind of important, in case you didn't notice."
He looks hurt, and for a second, I feel bad. I don't know why I got so angry there. At least he didn't press me for why I didn't tell him about Tutor-Girl sooner and he didn't even get angry so why was I so in his face? Sometimes I don't understand myself. A lot of times actually. I already try to be less like me, but thats easier thought than done.
The train shudders again, jerking slightly as it enters the tunnel system. The overhead lights dim, and the orange glow of service lights flickers to life, casting long shadows that stretch and shrink with each lurch of the wagon. From here, we'll plunge deep into the Geofront.
"I'm sorry," I mumble after a pause. "I'm…I'm just nervous."
There's surprise on his face. For a moment he seems unsure what to do. Then he crosses the small space and sits down next to me.
"Hey, Wha—" I ask, startled by his sudden proximity.
"Before my first press conference," He sighs, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "I was so nervous I thought I would die. The PR team spent weeks trying to coach me. They had me do all these exercises—stand up straighter, speak clearly, make eye contact, stuff like that. They even made me practice smiling in front of a mirror. Over and over," he shakes his head. "But when they shoved me me out in front of all those cameras…," he pauses, swallowing. "I froze. Completely."
He gives a small, self-deprecating laugh. "I remember thinking that I'd rather be fighting an Angel. Stupid, right?"
"Well, that is pretty stupid," I say but smile a little.
He smiles back faintly. "You would've been so much better at this. You're always so confident, so sure of yourself. I thought if I could just… be like you, maybe I wouldn't mess things up all the time." He glances at me quickly before looking away.
My brow furrows, unsure what to even make of this. "And? What's the point? Am I not allowed to feel nervous?"
He hesitates, then looks me straight in the eye. "You're not me, Asuka. You're Asuka Soryu Langley. You're capable, and strong, and fearless, and—I don't want you to forget that."
Shinji shifts uncomfortably. "I guess I'm not very good at this."
No kidding. Was this supposed to be a pep-talk? Of course, I'm me. Who else would I be? But the truth is, I don't feel fearless. I don't feel strong. I don't feel anything like the person he just described.
The train jolts, but I barely notice. What if he knew—if he could see what that Angel saw? The doubts, the failures, the weight of expectations. Would he still be here with me now?
But even with it being the worst pep-talk I've ever heard, the fact that he's trying—that he's here with me settles something in me.
"You know what?" I snap my hand into a fist. "You're right. I've got this."
Shinji nods. "I know." Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, "And if it doesn't go like you want it to go, I'll be there. You're not alone."
"Stop being silly."
The train stops. The lights flicker off, replaced by a series of mechanical clicks and clacks as we switch to the sub-rail system. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, the train surges out of the tunnel and the green expanse of the Geofront spreads below us. The moment is still as breathtaking as it was the first time I came down here. Although things have changed significantly.
Above, the ceiling remains heavily damaged. Construction equipment is bolted in place and I can make out tech-crews working eager to seal the final gaps. Sunlight streams through the open sections in stark, golden columns.
Beneath the fractured sky, the old HQ rests entombed in a massive, pyramid-shaped sarcophagus. Surrounding it are hulking machines linked by a web of power lines and pipes snaking into the ground like massive roots. Apparently, the attack has damaged one of the main reactor cores badly enough to cause a partial meltdown, and now needs to be actively cooled for some years— or so Shinji has told me.
Memories surface—flashes of tracers and explosions all around me. For a second, I can't breathe, but the moment passes, and I force myself to exhale.
I shift my focus, and something in the distance catches my eye. Towering shards of some strange, dark-gleaming material seem to grow out of the ground. They are encased in scaffolding and a crisscross of massive support structures.
I point at the strange structure. "Hey, what's that?
"That's the research site," he says. "Those shards are what's left of the Fifth Angel. The actual labs are underground. That's where they study all of the other remains."
We step off at an underground station. The air feels sharp and goosebumps immediately form on my forearms. Seriously armed guards check our clearance, their rifles slung tight across their chests. They wave us through multiple security gates that groan shut behind us, each one heavier than the last.
Neon lights buzz overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow on the corridor walls. I hug my arms around myself, trying to keep the shiver in check. Shinji doesn't even seem to care. He stoically steps half a step in front his head slightly bowed like he's trying not to garner too much attention.
All the way there's a weird prickle on the back of my neck. Like someone's watching me. I tell myself I'm being stupid, but occasionally I peek back down the corridors. The old HQ had its share of creepy corners, but this place is something else.
Shinji explains that operations were moved to this part of the Geofront because of heavy radiation in and around the main HQ. It's mostly old offices and research facilities down here, abandoned after the primary HQ was built. It's powered by auxiliary reactors so it's not reliant on the MainHQ and apparently, the infrastructure is easier to defend as well—whatever that's supposed to mean.
Every so often, I catch glimpses of NERV staff, mostly techs and a lot of armed security
After rounding the seemingly hundredth corner we stop at a junction. The hallway stretching to the right is barely lit. Past a few meters, it vanishes into complete black, and right at the edge of the darkness something seems to wobble. I blink a few times but it's still there. A shadow on a shadow. Weaving and turning. It's transfixing in a weird way. And there's a strange breeze coming from the tunnel, almost a whisper. Words? I strain to understand what's being said. It's somehow familiar, almost like—
"Where are you going?" Shinji's voice suddenly sounds far away. I blink and realize that I've stepped a good few meters into the corridor without even noticing. I quickly turn and hurry back.
"What's in that direction?" I ask with a strange feeling.
Shinji's face darkens. "The old HQ," he says. "But you won't get far. It's sealed and flooded with Bakelite."
When we enter the control-room it's nearly empty apart from some guy in a NERV uniform typing away at one of the terminals. The rest of the stations are unmanned. Through the angled glass, I can see down into the test chamber where two Entryplugs are mounted at the ingress area ready to be lowered into a pool of LCL.
I nudge Shinji. "Hey, where's everyone?"
"I don't know. Maybe something came up at the research site."
I feel a small stab. I don't know, somehow I've expected more. It's my big return after all isn't it? It would've been nice to see some familiar faces. But is it really that surprising? With the way I screwed up, no one probably expects much of this test. So why waste time on a failed pilot?
I don't get to dwell on it too much because the door at the other end of the control room hisses open and Captain Leiss steps in. Or rather strides. Her hair, now loose, falls over her shoulders with infuriating perfection. Her bangs bob in sync with her steps, like gravity itself knows better than to mess with her. I find myself straightening instinctively. Misato could command a room too, but it never felt this effortless.. I wish I could walk into a room like that.
Captain Leiss' eyes land on us, and she smiles. "Ah, Miss Langley. It's nice to finally meet you officially, " she says with a wink. "And—Mr. Ikari?" Her tone shifts slightly as she says his name. Shinji stiffens next to me.
"What an unexpected surprise, though fortunate, I suppose. Saves me the trouble of getting a hold of you." She glances over to the Terminal. "Lieutenant Matsuda, prepare the second Entryplug for a full diagnostic sweep. Standard protocols—power cycling, sync threshold calibration, and harmonics testing. No shortcuts."
The Lieutenant nods briskly and starts tapping commands into the Terminal, his fingers moving faster than I can follow.
"Uhm—" Shinji starts.
Captain Leiss raises an eyebrow. "Any objections, Mr. Ikari?"
"I—I'm just here to wish Asuka luck. I'd rather not—"
"Mr. Ikari," she says, her voice suddenly cold and crisp. "I know you're not used to this but you will address me properly, like everyone else in this room. Am I understood?"
"Y—yes, sir?" Shinji stammers out.
"It's ma'am, Idiot," I hiss under my breath.
"Ma'am. I mean yes ma'am."
I have to bite my lip to keep from snickering. Poor guy.
"Good. Now, it seems you're under some sort of misconception," Captain Leiss' smile returns. "Even though humanity's debt to you might be large, Mr. Ikari, the UN was founded on rules and they apply to you as well as everyone else."
Shinji's face goes pale.
"Let's do a quick review, shall we?" Captain Leiss paces a few steps, her heels punctuating the silence like a metronome, before snatching a datapad from one of the unmanned stations. "This month alone you've missed over eight sychronisation test. You've frequently skipped mandatory physical conditioning sessions—the last one was recorded over a month ago, and your performance was underwhelming, to put it kindly." Shinji looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.
"And let's not forget," she continues, her tone steady but tinged with slight disappointment. "Your constant struggles with our new training protocols. Tactical? Below standard. Combat readiness? Insufficient. The list goes on. Do you think Evangelion pilots can afford to rely on guesswork, Mr. Ikari?"
Shinji opens his mouth—
"Don't answer that," she cuts him off.
"I—I'm sorry, ma'am," he finally whispers.
I feel a little bad for him—after all, I'm the one who convinced him that missing once in a while won't land him in trouble. But there's also a bit of Schadenfreude in watching him squirm. I guess his days as the pampered prince of NERV are over.
Captain Leiss's expression softens. "You don't need to apologize, Mr. Ikari. You simply need to do better."
She pauses, letting her words settle before continuing, her tone gentler but still authoritative. "I know Commander Katsuragi has let certain behaviors slide in the past, perhaps because you're a civilian. I think she hoped that giving you space would help you grow on your own terms."
Her gaze softens further, and for a moment, there's something almost maternal in her expression. "But right now, you're the only viable Pilot we have. Even without an active threat, I hope we can both agree that your role carries an enormous amount of responsibility—and I want you to meet that demand."
Her voice hardens slightly. "From now on, there will be no more exceptions. Not because I want to punish you, but because I know you're capable of rising to the challenge."
Captain Leiss shifts her attention to me. "Which brings me to you, Miss Soryu. I take it you haven't changed your mind?"
"No, ma'am," I say with as much determination as I can.
"Perfect." She turns to the Lieutenant again. "Begin final preparations. Confirm test parameters for both pilots. Let's make this efficient, everyone."
Finally, the seals snap shut with a hiss, and the Plugsuit molds itself to me like a second skin. Oh, how I've missed the reassuring pressure—it's like slipping back into my old skin. I quickly peek into the locker mirror, half-expecting my reflection to warp and melt again. It doesn't. Relieved I spin around, checking how the new suit looks on me. There's no denying it—I've changed. I've worked hard to get my body back back into shape, but it's still not how it used to be. The proportions are wrong and everything's softer now. Weaker.
"Don't forget who you are," I whisper, my reflection staring back with determined eyes. "You're Asuka Soryu Langley. You've got this." I start to leave but hesitate, turning back again. "Don't screw this up."
When I step into the cold of the staging area, Shinji is already there, fully suited up. The sight hits me completely unprepared. Standing in front of me is Shinji Ikari, slayer of angels, straight from the magazine covers. It's the plugsuit I realize. It shows what's usually hidden under his bad-fitting shirts. He's grown, still lean but no longer boyish. He looks tall and strong and—Oh my god he looks hot. My pulse suddenly pounds in my ears.
Goddammit, brain. Now? Really? Focus, focus! The test is all that matters. I throw a nod towards Shinji and quickly hurry towards my Entryplug. A tech helps me board through the narrow hatch. My hands tighten into fists at my sides as the hatch closes and I try not to think how this place nearly became my coffin. Then darkness swallows me I close my eyes and count to ten. Then the LCL washes over me.
It's not working. I can tell because there's nothing. No tingling from the nerve pulses, no flicker of in my visual field. Just a dull ache all over my body. I know I have to relax and open up, allow the connection to happen but everything in me feels closed and shut. How am I supposed to relax when most of my body feels like it's been ripped apart and badly healed?
As a last-ditch effort, I scramble for one of the relaxation techniques I've learned. What was it again? Visualize the pain as a pulsing ball of light—right, that's it. Move it to my center. Deep breaths. In and out. In and—was the LCL always this thick in my lungs? Goddammit, it's not working.
The comm crackles. "How are you feeling?" Captain Leiss's voice filters in, warped and murky. I never realized how strange everything sounds here. Distorted. Maybe that's what I heard that day. Not Mama's voice but a trick of sound amidst all the chaos.
"I'm fine, ma'am," I say, forcing the words out as evenly as I can. They can't know I'm about to lose it.
There's a pause, then: "We're a bit concerned about your vitals."
"My arm hurts, that's all," I say. Muffled voices buzz on the other end of the comm. I can't make out what they're discussing but it can't be good. Then another voice cuts in.
"The Simulation Body was primed with a synch-buffer dump from Unit-02," Lieutenant Matsuda says. "That might account for the pain but it's hard to say for certain. It's also possible that it's a pilot-related issue."
Pilot-related issue. There it is.
"Can you do something about it?" Captain Leiss asks.
"There's too much jitter on the L-Channels. One second—I'm trying to inject anti-patterns. Is this better?"
A jolt slams through my skull, and I see a white-hot flash. I grunt in pain, trying to sound normal. "Nng—no." I'm so glad we're sound only so they don't see me squirm.
"Maybe we should stop the test," the Lieutenant suggests. That's it. They're giving up on you.
"No!" Panic crawls up my spine. I take a shaky breath. "No. Just—give me a little longer. I can do this."
There's a pause, then; "We'll take a short break. Please stand by."
With a snap, the sync is cut and I sink forward, exhausted. The pain immediately dulls into an afterglow. Why isn't it working? Why? Mama, are you there? If you can hear me. I need your help. I can't do it without you. I just can't. I'm not strong enough. Mama isn't here. She never was. You wanna know why? Because she's dead. Now stop whining like a stupid child.
Something clicks in the back of my head. The Entryplug melts away, and suddenly I'm drifting into black nothingness. There's something out there, just on the edge of my mind. It feels cold, ancient, and eerily familiar—I've been here before. A voice booms through my skull but before I can scream or grasp what's happening, I'm back in the Entryplug, my hands clambering around the yokes.
What the—was that another daymare? Shit, I hoped that it was a one-time thing. And of course, it has to happen at the worst time ever. Does that mean I'm losing my mind?
Then I realize the pain from before is gone and instead, a prickling sensation runs over my body. Sensor pulses from the Simulation Body! It's faint, but it's there and it's getting stronger. My heart jumps. It's happening—It's really happening! I can feel the synchronization beginning!
"I—I can feel it!" I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself. "It works! Do you guys hear me? It works!" My breathing slows, matching the rhythmic pulses of the neural interface. The boundary between my body and the Evangelion blurs, and I am no longer just a girl—I am the Eva. I can feel its body hanging suspended in the LCL pool.
"Sync rate rising," I hear Lieutenant Matsuda say. "Nearing Akagi threshold—No wait— Threshold passed." There's a small pause as if he can't quite believe the readings. Hell, I can barely believe it. "Sync ratio settling in at forty-four-dot-nine-nine percent. Feedback harmonics within acceptable range."
"Incredible!" Captain Leiss's voice sounds as excited as I am. "That's fantastic. How do you feel?"
How do I feel? I'm happy—and so, so relieved I could cry. But now that she's mentioned it; something is different. I've always sensed something beneath the sync—a warmth, a presence with a will of its own. I used to think it might be the mind of the Evangelion. They are alive after all, in some weird scientific way. But whatever it was, it's gone now, and even the sensory inputs feel dull, less organic.
"It feels different than it used to," I say. "It's hard to describe. It felt cold and more distant. Like there's a membrane between me and the Evangelion."
Should I tell them about the daymare? I mean, what really happened? Nothing, really. My brain had a small hiccup. There could be millions of reasons for that to happen. And the last one was way worse, so if anything things are getting better. It might be best not to overthink it.
"But it's fine," I add quickly. "I'm— I'm good. Should I try to move something?"
"Not for now," Captain Leiss says. "Going forward, I want you to pay close attention to anything that feels off. I want to know about every little thing, even if you think it's unimportant."
Going forward? Does that mean…?
Captain Leiss explains that she never liked the idea of the whole Operation hinging on a single point of failure. A very unreliable point of failure at that, she emphasizes which gets a chuckle out of me. After our meeting, she convinced the UN higher-ups that a second pilot really doesn't add a lot to the already astronomical budget. So, if I'm still willing—which I absolutely am—she'd be more than happy to recuirt me as Shinji's backup.
I've been Unit-02's chosen pilot since I was five, so being called a backup stings. But compared to the alternative? I don't even hesitate to say yes. I'll just have to show them what I can do and then we'll see who's gonna end up backup pilot.
I can't muster enough courage to ask about Unit-02 so I ask about Misato instead.
"Commander Katsuragi hasn't been informed yet," she says, her tone turning mischievous. "But between us, getting to see her face when I tell her will be worth the mountain of paperwork she'll send my way." Something tells me I'm going to like this woman.
Captain Leiss wants to keep the sync active for a while to collect some data. I agree and let myself float in the LCL enjoying the feeling of finally being home. All the pressure of the last few days falls away, and I'm about to doze off when I remember Shinji is here too. I navigate back into the pilot seat and open a channel. Shinji's face pops up on the HUD.
"It worked!" I almost shout, grinning. "Forty-five percent on first try. Not bad, huh, Third?"
He wrings out a forced smile. "Yeah, congratulations."
I blink, "That's all you've got? Aren't you happy for me?"
"Of course, I'm happy for you," he says, but it sounds anything but.
What the hell is his problem now? Why did he come to support me if he doesn't even care? Maybe he didn't want me to succeed. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would he pretend to?
"Well, you're not exactly selling it," I snap. "Come on, spill it. What's wrong? If you've got something to say then say it."
"I'm happy for you. I really am. I just... I don't want it to be like before. When we weren't friends, and you..." He trails off, but I know where he's going.
A wave of relief mixes with a twinge of shame. I know I was a real piece of shit back then, especially to him—and if I'm being honest, I was even worse than that. When things began to fall apart, I was willing to do whatever it took to get ahead.
I even taunted Shinji into taking point against the Twelfth Angel hoping he'd mess up so I'd look better. I got what I wanted. Shinji messed up and it nearly got him killed. I felt horrible afterward but that doesn't excuse anything. So he's not wrong to be cautious about me.
"I—I don't want that either," I say, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "But you told me not to forget who I am. Well, I'm not gonna lie to you Shinji. I fight for what I want and I won't hold back, not for you or anyone else. I'm going to be the number one, and if you stand in my way, I'll paint the walls of your Entryplug a very potent red."
I pause, softening my tone. "But that doesn't mean we won't be friends anymore. I—I want us to be friends. Maybe I won't get it perfect, but I'll try, I promise. And if I screw up, then—then just call me out, okay?"
Silence. The hum of the oxygen recycler fills the Entryplug.
"Please say something," I add quietly. "Are we… good?"
Shinji stares at me through the camera feed before nodding. "Yeah. We're good."
"Hey, why don't we go out and celebrate?" I quickly say afraid that I might mess up the conversation even more. "When we're finished here I mean. My treat."
"Go out?" He says seemingly confused. "You mean… you and me?"
"Yes, you and me," I say, offering my most earnest smile. "Who else should I celebrate my grandiose comeback with, silly?
He hesitates again.
"Come on, what's there to think about? You can't just sit at home all the time. All work and no play makes Shinji a dull boy, right?"
"Uhm okay? "
"You know, like in that pre-impact movie? Guy with an Axe?"
"I haven't seen a lot of movies, I guess."
"Of course you haven't." I exhale and a stream of bubbles stream upwards. "Okay, we're so going to fix this. Otherwise, you'll achieve maximum lameness density one day and then you'll collapse into a point of infinite boredom. So here's the plan. We'll grab dinner somewhere fancy and then I'm gonna give you some much-needed lessons on pre-impact movie culture. What do you say? You in?"
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"God damn right you don't."
We end up agreeing to eat at the ramen place where we celebrated our victory over the tenth Angel. I was aiming for something fancier, but Shinji's not the biggest fan of crowded places, and I'm feeling generous so I let him choose. Alas, the place is gone—along with the whole city block. In its place is a long, jagged scar of rubble and twisted steel.
I'm in too good a mood to let that little detail ruin the evening. "I'm sure it just moved somewhere else," I say, grab Shinji by the wrist, and pull him through the city.
We eventually find a cute little BBQ place. Maybe half the tables are occupied, with some groups chatting in the back and a couple at the bar. The air's thick with the smell of sizzling meat and smoky marinades. A waitress greets us with a polite, practiced nod—if she recognizes Shinji she's professional enough not to act weird about it. But as she leads us to our table, I catch the couple at the bar staring at us. Shinji notices too and automatically ducks his head. Great. Just what we needed. I shoot them a sharp look. Creeps.
The waitress leads us to a cozy corner by the window, and Shinji's eyes widen when I order practically half the menu. I try to steer the conversation toward anything but NERV, Evangelions, or Captain Leiss. I know how much he hates talking about that stuff, and I want him to feel comfortable and make it abandonly clear that I'm not about to bite his head off now that I can sync with an Eva again. I pull out every trick I've got—which, admittedly, aren't many—to lighten the mood but the gloomy look never leaves his face completely.
I can tell there's still something on his mind. But what? Is it still me or is he thinking about something else? He's thinking about tutor-girl…
I feel my mood souring.
"So," I say and slap a big piece of pork-belly onto the grill that immediately starts to sizzle. "How nice is she?"
"Huh?"
"Tutor-girl. You know, whatsherface—Azada? You said she's nice, so how nice are we talking? Like, on a scale from one to ten."
"I haven't really thought about that, I guess," he replies, his voice trailing off as he glances around the restaurant.
"Don't be so lame," I say, stabbing at the pork-belly with my chopsticks. "I mean, isn't this what you guys do? Rate us from one to ten?"
"I don't think that's about niceness."
"I know that, genius. Come on, just pretend I'm a guy. How nice is she?" I gauge him carefully. He looks like he genuinely has to think about it. No red cheeks, and no stuttering either. Doesn't look like he's madly in love with her.
"Like I've said, she seems nice," he says and shrugs. "But she's a tutor so she's probably nice to everyone." I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course, he doesn't get it. He never gets anything.
"So no tail-wagging for Tutor-girl? How tragic. You two would've made such a boring couple."
"What's tail-wagging supposed to mean?" he asks, completely serious.
I exhale loudly, just shy of a theatrical sigh. "It means that you're like a dog. If someone's just remotely nice to you, you immediately run in circles, wag your tail, and start drooling. It's comically predictable."
He smirks a little. "You're not exactly nice to me and I let you live in my apartment."
"Hey, I'm plenty nice to you, which just proves my point. Oh, and I don't live in your apartment by the way."
"No? Then who's make-up is in the bathroom? You even have ID access." Well, he's kind of got a point there. I still don't know how that happened. It just did.
"First of all," I say, pretending to inspect the underside of a slice of paprika sizzling on the grill. "It's not even your apartment. NERV assigned it to you so shut up. And second, I'm just staying over sometimes. Someone has, to make sure you don't screw up your assignments. In return, I don't have to sleep on a pile of trash. It's a perfectly transactional arrangement. And just for the record—You should be glad I'm not nicer to you. People could get the wrong impression."
"What impression?"
"Yeah, well, people might think I like you, as in like you, you know? Imagine the headlines."
Shinji's gaze wanders to his hands. "Yeah," he says almost to himself. "That would be horrible." Then his eyes shoot up again and he looks directly at me. "I—I wouldn't mind if people knew I—"
My phone buzzes and for a silly moment, I think it's an angel attack. Not so long ago a buzzing phone could mean harm and death so it's a habit that's hard to unlearn. To my surprise, Papa's name flashes on the screen. Missed calls. A text. A heavy, unfamiliar knot forms low in my stomach, equal parts unease and confusion because Papa never calls.
I practically leap from my seat, mumbling an excuse, and rush to the bathroom where I hide in a stall. My hands feel clumsy as I pull up the message. It's a photo of Mother, cradling a shriveled, ugly little something like it's the most precious thing in the universe. Below it, a pasted message: Peter Langley says hello to the world, weighing 3.1 kilograms. Mother and child are happy and well—
My fingers move on their own, firing off a tirade of insults and ihateyous—but I can stop myself before hitting send. I take a deep breath. It's not worth it. I delete the rant and send a thumbs-up instead. Then I glance at the picture again. "Don't take it personally, little man. It's not your fault."
With that, I close the messenger and head back to what really matters: celebrating my grandiose comeback with a friend.
When I return to our table, Shinji's gone.
For a moment, I'm dumbfounded. Confused, I scan the restaurant but Shinji's nowhere in sight. Did he just walk out on me? But why? Did I say something wrong? No... even then he wouldn't just bail like that, would he?
Then I catch him outside, standing with that creep from the bar. The man is leaning in, talking aggressively, his gestures sharp and angry. Shinji tries to back away but the man throws a sudden punch. Shinji's goes down.
Before I realize it, I'm moving. I storm outside and with a furious scream, I throw myself at the creep, tackling him with everything I've got. It's like slamming into a brick wall, but I catch the man off guard. He loses his balance and stumbles a few steps, just enough to create some distance and just like that I'm standing between him and Shinji, fists clenched. I don't even care what this is about. He hit Shinji. Everything else is irrelevant. Somewhere in the background, I vaguely register a woman crying.
The man regains his footing and now faces me. He seems surprised first, then really really angry. My senses tunnel as adrenaline floods my body. My hips shift, and I automatically slide into a combat stance. I know enough about fighting to understand that I have absolutely no chance here. Without Unit-02, I'm just a teenage girl facing a grown man. This probably won't end well for me but I'd rather end up a bloody puddle before I let this asshole hurt Shinji. Maybe if I land a lucky first blow—
"Don't—don't hurt him. Please—" Shinji screams behind me, his voice cutting through the fog in my head. "I'm not in danger. Please, I'll handle it."
I glance back at Shinji—stupid, stupid move. Never turn your back on a threat, but my brain is too scrambled to think straight. Shinji's on his feet again, arms raised, gesturing—not at me, I realize, but at the three Section Two agents advancing from across the street, weapons drawn. They slow but don't stop.
"Shinji, what—" I start, but he cuts me off by gently pushing me aside. He steps in between me and the creep and bows deeply.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," he says, trembling but formal. "Please accept my apology. If there's anything I can do—"
The man doesn't let him finish, seemingly unaware of the agents."Who do you think you are?" he roars, his voice breaking. "Who do you think you are? It was your job to protect them! You should've protected them—but you didn't. You didn't, and now... "
"Sir, please!" Shinji cuts in, his hands clenched into fists. "You have to understand—there are at least three agents determining right now if you're a threat to me. If they decide you are, there's nothing I can do to stop them. So please, for your own sake—" Shinji bows even lower. "I beg you—just go ."
The woman appears then, frantic, pulling the man away. He resists at first but eventually lets her drag him off but not before spitting on the ground in front of Shinji.
I don't breathe again until they are out of sight and the agents have holstered their weapons. One checks on Shinji, while the others scatter the crowd of gawking bystanders that has formed by now. After they've made sure we're fine, the Agents leave us alone.
I turn to Shinji. He's pale, staring at the ground. Except for a bruise blooming on his cheek, he seems fine. Physically, that is.
"Are you okay?" I ask, with a soft voice. "Can I do anything?"
He shakes his head, still not looking at me, leaving me feeling completely helpless. Seeing him like this makes my chest ache. I want to comfort him, but I just don't know how . I don't even know what his stupid head shake means. God, I'm so useless without an Evangelion.
"What was that about?" I try.
"He lost someone I think—in one of the Angel attacks," Shinji says, his voice calm but barely holding together. There's a slight tremor like he's one wrong word away from breaking.
"Come on," I say, grabbing his arm and tugging. "Let's get out of here. Let's not waste time on psychos like that."
Shinji pulls away with a jolt. When I turn, I see the look in his eyes—dark and distant.
"He isn't a psycho," he says. "He's grieving. And he was right. I was supposed—"
"Are you kidding me?" I snap, anger flaring. "Grieving doesn't give anyone the right to attack you. We saved them, Shinji! You and me and Ayanami. We fought for these ungrateful assholes. They should be kissing our feet and throwing us parades."
Shinji shakes his head like he's talking to a child who just doesn't get it. His voice cracks. "Maybe it's that easy for you, but it's not for me." And I don't get it. I really don't. Maybe he's just a better person than I am. To be honest I couldn't care less about these people.
I try to soften my tone again. "But it's not your fault, Shinji. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. You've saved so many lives—"
"Just—let it go, okay?" He says and starts walking away from me.
"H—hey wait for me."
We walk in silence for a while, my anger still simmering. I can't help but wonder if this has happened before. Maybe that security booth at Shinji's place is there for a reason. But wouldn't an attack on NERVs golden boy have made the news?
It's hard to stomach that after everything I've sacrificed, there are still people out there blaming us for their misfortunes. I'm not even asking for much, just one evening out without some jerk ruining it but apparently, that's already too much.
"You really would've fought that man to protect me?" Shinji suddenly asks.
"Fought? Ha!" I switch into a mock combat stance and shadowbox a few steps. "I would've murdered that guy. Seriously, he was lucky you went between us."
Finally, a small smile tugs at the corner of Shinji's mouth. It's not much but I feel a flicker of triumph.
"I'm sorry I've ruined your evening," he says.
"Don't worry," I say and wave it away. "The food wasn't even that good and I dodged the bill. So," I nudge him. "Ready for the fun part?"
"You still want to watch a movie with me?"
"Nah, you have to think bigger, Third. I'm talking full-blown movie night. Ice cream, snacks—the works. First one to the corner gets to call first movie!" I yell and sprint ahead.
Shinji's taste in movies is awful, so I pick all the films for the evening. Not that I really care—I've seen them all a thousand times. It's far more interesting to watch Shinji. He seems to have shrugged off the attack already and now sits on the floor clutching a bowl of chips, flinching and jerking with every scare, like a frightened little boy.
The room is dim, the only light coming from the flickering TV, casting an ever-changing glow across his face. With every shift the features of his face change and every now and then, I catch a glimpse of the Shinji from the test area—the one who made my heart race in a way I really don't appreciate. It's infinitely fascinating and hard to believe they're the same person.
When we first met, it was obvious he had a thing for me. All the boys did, so I figured it was just the usual pervy stuff. But what about now? I don't look that spectacular anymore. Sure, I'm still reasonably pretty, but—with the way Shinji sometimes looks at me. I can't help but wonder...
"Hey," I say, trying to sound casual. "What was it you wanted to say earlier? When I mentioned that people might get the wrong idea. You said you wouldn't mind. What wouldn't you mind?"
He doesn't even look at me, still glued to the TV. There's a pause before he answers. "I don't know—I guess, I wouldn't mind if people knew we're friends. Why—why are you asking?"
"Never mind," I mutter. "I just thought you wanted to say something else." My tone brightens as I gesture toward the screen. "Hey, check it out—the next part's the best."
I lean back and try to focus on the movie but there's suddenly this nagging disappointment in me. I'm almost sure he wanted to say something else. And now I can't stop wondering what would have happened if he had. Right here and now. How would I have reacted? I have no idea.
Later, in bed, I allow myself to imagine it—just this once. Him on top of me. His lips covering mine. His hand sliding down my body. My breath quickening into short, shallow gasps. I don't need long.
When I'm done, I stare at the ceiling, trying to make sense of all the tangled mess in my head. On the surface, it's pretty simple. I care about being friends with Shinji. Period. Nothing more. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that's not entirely true. I care about him! That's different and it's where everything's becoming a goddamn mess. I know I'm not good at dealing with competition and if he wants it or not that is what he is. I wasn't lying about that. That part of me is still there, lurking. And to make matters even worse there are those perverted thoughts…
The truth is—today wasn't even the first time it happened.
Goddamit why does this have to be so complicated? It's moments like this where I wish I'd just be a character in one of my beloved soaps. We could skip right to the ending where everyone is happy. But then, what would that happy ending of mine even look like?
I should call it off before anyone gets hurt. It might be for the best. It'd be a good lesson for Shinji too—he needs to stop being so trusting. Maybe I'd even be doing him a favor.
Suddenly I feel sick of myself and how easy that thought came to me. This is not who I want to be…
That's a mistake but fine. What are you going to do?
Like everything else in life, this is a matter of will and determination. So I just have to control my emotions better. If I can do that I can be the best pilot, and I can be friends with Shinji and I won't turn into a drooling idiot every time I see him in a plugsuit. I know I can get it done. I'm Asuka Langley Soryu. I can do anything.
Control your emotions? Don't you realize there is nothing to control? The boulder's already rolling down the hill. Inertia's in control now, sunshine. All you get to do is sit back and watch.
AN
Thanks for the kind comments and feedback! I really appreciate it, and it's great to know some people are reading and actually enjoying this.
If you've made it this far and didn't like the story, I'd love to know that too, especially what parts you didn't like—it could help me improve future stories.