In the end, Misato lets me wait for almost three hours. "Sorry, something came up," she mumbles when she finally picks me up. Something that was way more important than you. She doesn't say it out loud but I know where I rank on her priority list. From there it's the usual empty phrases. I spent the drive home staring out the passenger window watching damaged buildings pass by. Next to me, Misato white-knuckles the steering wheel, her jaw clenched. She doesn't seem to be in a talking mood; honestly, that's fine. My strange encounter with Shinji still has me thinking.

Seriously, a "thanks" would have been enough. Or even a simple "sorry for being such a jerk all the time." Hell, that's the BARE MINIMUM I should have said. But noooo, I had to turn into a social shipwreck. It's so embarrassing. I must've looked like a complete idiot. Shinji has probably seen right through my interview lie. Okay, I definitely need to relax. Let's not forget who made things awkward, in the first place. Bringing me my synch clips like that and even hugging me? What was up with that? And the way Shinji said goodbye—it sounded so exhausted, almost final.

I sink back into the seat trying to push Shinji out of my head. This is so me—overthinking everything until I'm about to explode. He probably just had a bad day, right? God knows I wasn't feeling like rainbows and kittens either. I relax a little and try to focus back on the city.

Buildings everywhere are covered in scaffolding, surrounded by various construction equipment. Others are just… gone; or in the process of being torn down. I wonder how much of the damage was caused by Angels and what was caused by us and the JSSDF. When your synch-rate is high enough everything starts to look like little toys. It's kinda unreal. Only that it is real. Very real. Until now, I never realized how badly the city got damaged. The city I was supposed to protect. I feel guilt swell in my chest. Fantastic. Just what I need right now.

Just when I'm close to head-butting the console, Misato pulls into the parking lot. She watches me with concern while I carefully place my feet on the ground and I climb out of the car. When I feel steady enough I hold my breath and press up. For a scary moment, I think my legs will buckle under my weight but they proudly do their job.

"Need any help?" Misato asks as I reach for my backpack. I wave her off. I won't run a marathon anytime soon but I'm on my own feet again as long as I don't overdo it. Backpack ready but still a little shaky, I follow Misato into the lobby where I'm presented with a choice: Share the elevator with her or take the stairs. There is no way I'll make it up to the tenth on my own, but there's also no way I'm letting a challenge fly by. Besides, a little workout will hopefully help to clear my head. I've got bigger things to worry about than Shinji fucking Ikari.

I'm out of breath when I reach the first floor and have to call for the elevator on the second. But hey, small steps, right? I eventually reach Misato's apartment where I find her leaning against the door frame. She gauges me for a moment, then she gestures into the apartment with a faint smile.

"After you."

A sour odor hits me as I walk in. "Holy– did something die in here?"

"Sorry ' bout that." Misato says "I don't come here very often."

Figures. Holding my nose, I step over two plastic bags with unidentifiable contents and make my way further down the apartment. The kitchen's officially a mess. The sink is strewn with dishes of unknown age and an assortment of beer cans, pods of instant noodles and an overflowing ashtray decorates the kitchen table. One of the noodle-pod lies toppled, its contents spilled out like intestines. A distant memory flashes through my mind and my hand automatically feels for my stomach to check if everything's still where it belongs.

Misato vanishes into her room. I would love to do the same but fatigue crawls up my legs and I can sense a cramp coming my way. I drop my backpack, shove two empty beer cans from a chair, and slump down, my heart still beating like crazy.

And right there, under the thinning veil of painkillers, my arm makes itself noticed. It starts with millions of small needle stabs, running from my fingertips right up to my shoulder. If I ignore it, the pain will swell into a thunderstorm. The good news is that I'll probably be able to regain full control of my arm if I keep up with my training but the pain is stubborn.

I draw my backpack close and dig for my pill box. It's a colorful assortment of meds. One color for each of my problems. I never cared to learn what each of them does, I only know that orange ones are the painkillers and the little white ones they– they make things a little more tolerable. I take a few of the painkillers and survey the apartment.

Even though I only lived here for about a year this is still the closest thing to a home I can think of. Sure, I had my room at my parent's house but I was barely there and when I was Papa wasn't. Most of the time it was just Mother and me and we didn't really get along very well. It's not that she didn't try, it's just…I don't know, I always felt like betraying Mama when I was nice to her. After I was deployed to Japan I was so glad when Misato said I could stay with her. There even was a time when my roommates were like a family to me. Sure, a dysfunctional, utterly crazy family but it was still nice having them around. All that's left of that is Misato's way-to-sweet-for-her-age perfume hanging in the air, mixing with the smell of decay. A sudden heaviness grips my heart that I can't quite place. Maybe it's the pills. They make me feel strange things when I take them on an empty stomach.

"Want something to eat?" Misato says when she re-emerges from her room. She has exchanged the uniform for a yellow tank top and shorts and looks all casual. The strict presence she sports, when she's in CO-Mode, is nowhere in sight.

"No, thanks." Food's probably the lowest item on my priority list right now.

Misato shrugs and gets to work on the disgusting pile of dishes that smells even worse than I initially thought, helplessly juggling bowls and a scrub sponge. It's immediately obvious why Shinji did most of the chores around here. Ever heard of a dishwasher, woman? Sometimes it's hard to believe that she made it to CO of a paramilitary organization. If she can't even handle the dishes, how's she supposed to make decisions concerning the safety of the city? Let alone the whole county, or even worse Humanity. I feel anger driving away my fatigue.

"I can't believe that you trust an amateur like Ikari to protect the city on his own," I say, suddenly not willing to stay silent anymore.

"Not this again," Misato mutters loud enough so I can hear it. She dries her hands and turns around, still presenting a happy face. "Look, it's been a long day and I'm really hungry. How about we discuss this tomorrow?"

Nice try, but this is too important. If her vision for NERV is everyone just idling around all day, that's fine, but I'll fight for Unit-02. "It's stupid and it's careless and you know it."

"For the last time. There won't be any more attacks. The seventeenth was the last."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"We have reasons to believe that there won't be any more attacks." She smiles a weak smile. "We killed them all."

"Reasons? What reasons?"

"The classified kind," Misato says, her voice suddenly sharp. "Way outside your clearance so you're gonna have to trust me on this."

Trust her? The same woman who had me shoved me into an Entryplug when I was barely conscious, and then sent me out to fight without any backup? And after everything went wrong, she didn't even bother to check on me. That woman? I open my mouth to lay into her but she's faster.

"This is all I can give you. End of discussion,"

"At least tell me how long I have to wait until Unit-02 is repaired," I say. " Two months?"

"Asuka—"

"Six?" A resigned look appears on Misato's face. She drops the apron and walks over to the fridge, fishing for a beer.

"Want one?" She says, her head still in the fridge. For a second I'm tempted but alcohol doesn't suit the Evangelion Pilot in me. A Pilot needs to stay sharp and clear-headed and I don't think alcohol will mix well with all the painkillers. I ask for a Coke instead, which I know she doesn't have. Misato places a glass of tap water in front of me and sighs heavily as she lets herself down on the chair next to me. She vacantly stares at the beer can in her hand, her fingernails drumming on its side. Then, as if she just remembered something, she places it on the table. She sighs and rubs her eyes. "What do you know about what happened?"

"Not much. Shinji killed the seventeenth angel. Then some religious nut-jobs attacked NERV-HQ because we were — quote-unquote — interfering with God's work. I got the short end of the stick and our Goldenboy had to save the day."

A smile glints across Misato's lips "Well, that's certainly one way to put it. Did Shinji tell you about his father?"

"No, that idiot barely tells me anything."

"I see," Misato says and her voice drops a few degrees. "What I'm telling you now is classified. Not as sensitive as the rest but still outside your clearance. If you break confidentiality, life as you know it will be over. Do you understand?"

A deep chill runs down my spine. "Yes, Ma'am," I say reflexively, suddenly reminded that she is the new Commander of NERV. She could have me thrown into a cell for all eternity and I doubt that she would hesitate if she were forced to.

"Do you still want to know more?"

I nod.

"Good," Misato leans forward. "The official version isn't wrong per se but the UN has left out a few details. These religious nutjobs were an extremely powerful group of individuals who infiltrated large parts of the UN. There are still a lot of unanswered questions but Commander Ikari and Subcommander Fuyutsuki played a major role in whatever their plan was. Both are currently imprisoned on charges of high treason." She makes a small pause to gauge my reaction.

I'm not sure how I'm expected to feel right now. Should I be shocked? I mean come on, the man basically was the chairman of the creepy, old bastards club. The fact that he tried to backstab NERV only confirms that he was every bit the crazy lunatic I suspected him to be. No wonder Shinji turned out the way he did. I hope he'll rot in hell.

When I don't answer, Misato goes on to give me a full rundown on the current state of the UN, how it was thrown into chaos and is now struggling to regain control, and how the remaining Member States established an investigation committee to get rid of SEELE agents. I would love to tell her how much I don't care about politics and this conspiracy bullshit. The only thing that matters to me is when I'll get to see Unit-02 again. But I kind of asked for it so I listen and nod once in a while.

"I still don't get what that has to do with me," I say after Misato is finished with her briefing.

"That's pretty simple. The new UN Administration generally distrusts everything that is even remotely NERV-related which, considering everything, kind of makes sense. Technically they don't have any jurisdiction here in Tokyo-3. Not even the Japanese Senate has. But—and that's the big one—they control the budgets."

She straightens a bit and I wonder if she's practiced this part. Everything sounds stiff and rehearsed. She talks about the UN supervision and how they are planning to repurpose the Evangelion program for peaceful times. At first, her words don't make sense to me. Evangelions are weapons. They were created to fight. They're useless paperweights without an enemy to obliterate. But then it hits me and I understand what Misatos has been trying to tell me since she visited me a few weeks ago. Dread coils in my stomach. They haven't started reconstructing Unit-02 because they're not going to. Ever. It's simply not needed anymore so they won't pour resources into its reconstruction that are needed elsewhere, and that means…

"So I'm obsolete? Is that what you're telling me?" My fingers clench. Oh god, It's even worse than I thought. She's about to take everything away from me. Everything I worked so hard for, everything that I have, and that's worth a damn to me. This can't be happening. "I know I haven't performed as I should've but I always gave everything. I had my goddamn guts turned into a slushy for NERV. You- you can't just throw me away like that. I deserve a second chance."

Misato's voice softens, surprisingly. "Asuka, you're not listening. No one is throwing you away. You're strong, intelligent, and incredibly brave. You have a bright future ahead of you. But you're still a teenager. Teenagers shouldn't be playing soldiers." She leans forward, her expression gentle but firm. "You deserve a life that doesn't revolve around fighting Angels and it doesn't have to be with NERV. You can go back to Germany, and live with your parents. I'm sure they would love to have you back."

"No!" I nearly scream. I can't go back, not like this, not as a complete loser. Misato has no idea what she's doing to me.

"Well, you don't have to go back," she says. "What about College? You can stay here as long as you like, finish your undergrad. NERV has an excellent trainee program. We will support you with anything you want to do."

"I have a question," I say, mouth dry like chalk.

"Sure, ask away."

I nod, "Do I look like a normal teenager?"

Misato looks puzzled "I don't know what—"

"It's a simple question. Do I look like a normal teenager to you? " I point to my eyepatch. "Does this look like something a normal teenager would wear?"

"I know it must feel scary to–"

"Answer my question," I hiss. "Do. I. Look. Normal?"

For a moment Misato just stares at me then she sighs. "No."

"That's because I'm pretty damn far from being normal," I say, my voice trembling. "I was already learning to shoot an M2C-Pallet from the hip while everyone else was still trying to figure out how to tie their shoes. And now you want me to go back to school with a bunch of children? You know that's not gonna happen." I take a deep breath. "Being an Eva pilot is my normal life. It's all I know, and it's all I want. NERV made me this way, and now they're just gonna toss me aside like I'm trash?" Misato's face flushes red. Whether it's anger or frustration or whatever. I don't care, I just want her to feel a fraction of the things I currently feel. "You want to help me? Great. Put me back in an Evangelion and let me show you that I'm still useful. Just one more chance. That's all I'm asking. "

She leans back and loses her gaze on the beer can again as if she is searching for an answer in the ingredient list. "Please," I mutter. "Don't make me beg."

After an excruciatingly long moment, Misato slowly nods "You do exactly what I tell you," she says. "No whining, no complaining, no back-talk, no nothing. You go to therapy and you'll take it seriously. If you get cleared— and only if—we can run you through some tests. We'll see from there. Deal?"

I nearly snort. What kind of deal is that? It's like asking if I'd rather be looking left or right before being shoved under a freaking guillotine. I vacantly grab my water and take a sip to get rid of the chalk in my throat. My hands are shaking when I place it back.

"Deal," I hear myself press out. I don't have any other choice. She's in control and I'm completely at her mercy.

"It'll mean an awful lot of paperwork," she adds. "So don't expect anything to happen soon. In the meantime at least try to have some fun, okay? Be a silly teenager. You've been through enough already."

I keep staring at the glass. Does she even realize that she's just shattered my whole life? Why did I even bother with PT? All the pain, all the effort. It was completely meaningless. I'm meaningless.

"Tell you what," Misato says when I don't make a move. "Why don't you take a bath while I'll get this mess cleaned up and organize something to eat? "

I just slip from the chair and hurry away because I don't know how long I can keep it together.

I find myself sitting on the bathroom floor. Back pressed against cold tiles, knees drawn close. My breath goes heavy, while the bathtub fills with steaming water. The hollow in my gut is back and threatens to devour me. I pull my legs closer, arms so tight around my knees that it hurts.

The world doesn't need you anymore.

I don't know what's happening to me. The walls seem to crush in on me while I'm about to dissolve. My chest is so tight— I can barely breathe. My hands claw into my shoulders. God, what is this? It's never been so bad.

No one needs you…

Misato's words hammer through my skull like high-yield charges.

Thump

You're useless.

Dead weight.

Dead…

Dead …

No! No! No! No! Shut up! I'm not dead. Not yet. With shaking hands I swallow one of the white pills, undress, and slide into the warm water. Slowly my nerves untangle. I'm still alive so It's not completely over yet. If I can jump all of Misato's hurdles there's a chance they'll let me pilot again. Even if they don't rebuild Unit-02. It's a tool and I can pilot any other Evangelion. It doesn't matter as long as I'm a pilot. But Mama— Stop embarrassing yourself! She's long dead. You've just imagined her when you were close to death. You imagined a lot back then. Now deal with what's real like a damn grown-up.

I desperately try to divert my thoughts and eventually find something that isn't blood and horror. It's a memory of Shinji of all people. He's smiling. Not this strange, fake smirk but the warm, genuine one. The one I like to think was reserved for me. A warm feeling spreads in my stomach. At least he believes in me, even if he's the most frustrating person I've ever met. I mean what would he think if I gave up now? I can't just admit defeat like that. I am strong and I've been through much worse. So come on now Soryu, this is gonna be a piece of cake.

Thirty minutes later and somewhat renewed I slip back into the kitchen. The empty beer cans have vanished. In their place, a few blue and yellow balloons have been draped on the table, between them two boxes of takeaway food. A word band dangles from the ceiling.

"Welcome home," I whisper.

"I tried to organize a small welcome party for you," Misato scoffs, still staring at her unopened beer. "Seems like I can't even get this right anymore."

I sit down and we eat in silence. As soon as I'm finished I excuse myself. Misato nods and lights a cigarette. She's probably as relieved as I am that this evening is finally over. Whatever crude dynamic we might have had, it moved out together with Shinji.

Standing in front of the door to my room, a thought runs through my head. I turn around.

"How´d you manage to scare him away?"

Misato sucks on her cigarette and stares at the ceiling.

"Don´t tell me that's classified too."

She exhales without haste then she turns her head to face me.

"No, it's not," she says "I just don't want to talk about it."

I'm fangs out, temperature sub-zero, sweat dripping. Pivot, cut and spear. White turns red. Vultures plunge. A seven-eyed giant rises. Someone screams.

I shoot up. My heart pounds against my ribcage and sweat runs cold on my back. Instinctively I lean forward to reach for the PCA-Remote but my hand just grabs into the sweaty air and for a brief moment I think someone is standing at my bed. Slowly I realize that I'm not in the hospital anymore. My shaking hand runs over my face and I take a few deep breaths to steady myself as the events of the day seep back into my mind.

Sure as hell, my arm starts to pulse. Fortunately, I had the foresight to place my pillbox on my nightstand, just in arms reach. I pop two pills each. Some nights I can get through without them but this isn't one of those. It will take some time for them to do their magic and until then I don't even have to think about going back to sleep.

I grab my phone and fall back onto my bed while holding the power button. The home screen comes up and a blue glow fills the room. My heart drops a little when I see that no new messages are waiting for me. It's not like I expected someone to message me but still—

I open the messenger anyway. Hikari´s name is at the top of my contact list. I tap her entry and have already started typing when I see the small text next to her name. Last online 14 months ago. I sigh and close the feed. My eye slides to the next name on the list and my stomach drops a little further. I guess there's no sense in writing a ghost. With the swipe of my thumb, more entries fly by.

Maybe I could call Mother. I check the time. It's lunchtime in Germany. If I called now, she'd definitely pick up. She'd ask if I was okay and how I was feeling and she'd listen if I told her. Maybe she would even try to understand. She's not a bad person. But where should I even start? How could I ever explain what it was like having my mind invaded, or my arm cut in half, or all the other things… and besides, she probably has other things to worry about now. There's no space for me anymore, even if I wanted to go back.

The scrollbar reaches the bottom and there he is, banished to the end of the list. Shinji's entry just reads "Third". He's the only one who kinda gets what it's like to be an Evangelion pilot. Ayanami maybe, but who am I kidding? The ice princess barely counts as human so there's no way she would understand what I'm going through. But even Shinji probably wouldn't get it. He never even wanted to be a Pilot and still, everything worked out just fine for him. His life's all sunshine and rainbows now. Except— he didn't look like it today. Far from it.

My thumb keeps on hovering over his contact and a thought crosses my mind. What if I had it wrong and it wasn't just a bad day? Something could be wrong with him. He wouldn't tell me, would he? We're not that close. And what If he tried to tell me and I was just too stuck up to notice? Suddenly I'm worried. Okay, okay try to relax. I'll just send him a message. That'll do the trick. But it's gotta be short and subtle. Something that lets him know that I'm worried without letting him know that I'm worried. Come on Soryu, you're a genius. You can totally do this.

After exactly forty-eight minutes of furious editing and rewriting, I'm satisfied with my creation and hit the send button.

"Hey," the message pops up in his feed. Now all I have to do is—Before I can think further the message gets marked as read. Shit, shit, shit. I don't even have a follow-up yet. Why on earth is he still awake?

I spend the next twenty minutes staring at the screen, while nervously biting my lower lip like the silly teenager Misato thinks I am. But Shinji doesn't answer and my mood sags with every additional minute. Technically Misato's right. Going by age I'm absolutely still a teenager but that doesn't explain why I´m so bummed out right now. I mean it's the goddamn middle of the night for Christ's sake. Normal people sleep at this hour. Maybe Shinji's just gone back to sleep or he's busy or - Fuck, who cares. I throw the phone into the corner and bury my head deep into my pillow. If only there was a pill to make my stupid brain shut up.

Slowly the warm glow of the painkiller-sleeping-pill-mix spreads and lets my body relax. I should rather worry about myself than about Shinji. I'm sure he'll apologize like ten times for not answering right away. I yawn. Yeah, he'll answer tomorrow.