章 9: Chapter 9

The back of the limousine was quiet aside from the muffled sound of engine as it revved along, carrying the weight of the car, driving long through busy city streets. The movement was barely perceptible, only tiny variations in momentum as brakes or accelerator were applied.

Commander Ikari had been staring out of the side window since they left the conference, his gaze distant but not altogether lost in thought; the Sub-Commander sat facing the rear, holding a small book in his wrinkled hands.

Neither men said anything.

Finally, as they banked a curve, a call came through the intercom from the obscured front seat. Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki reached out hand almost interestedly and pressed a button. "Yes?" he said, his voice carefully measured as always.

"They're done, sir," came the voice from the front.

"And?" Fuyutsuki asked.

"No vote," the man said.

"Thank you for keeping us informed," Fuyutsuki said, and depressed the intercom. Then he closed his book and gave Commander Ikari his attention. "It seems you were right."

"I know their type," Commander Ikari said. He had his elbow propped up on his the window sill, his hand turned back so his knuckles brushed his chin in the classic 'thinking' position. He did not seemed relaxed, but neither did he appear stressed. He gave the aura of being as completely in control of his own emotions as he was of the situation.

They had only been at the Security Council for a few minutes, long enough be seen because it lent the meeting an air of credibility since it was NERV's fate being discussed. Talks had been made regarding certain assurances, and loyalties had been reaffirmed.

The Commander, it seemed, had come just for that. When these private meetings were done, they had left. Neither of the two men seemed concerned that their appearance had been so brief that it might have been completely needless.

"The Russian Ambassador, I think, was egregiously formal, all things considered. But I think at least he was being honest," Fuyutsuki said. "As long as we have a guarantee of dissent there shouldn't be anything to worry about. I'm not sure about the Chinese. They are not the kind of people I feel comfortable dealing with."

"They are like businessmen everywhere," the Commander said, unconcerned. "They want what they want and will compromise anything, including whatever principles they might have. Their greed for power is to our advantage."

"Greedy men do not deal too well with time lines," Fuyutsuki retorted.

"But they know better than to displease us. What we offer—what they stand to gain from us is not something they would ever be able to do by themselves. And because they know they need us they will not stray."

"Or so you think."

"They have made good on their promise so far, haven't they?"

The Sub-Commander snickered, the wrinkles on his features deepening. It was a strangely reassuring gesture. "For the time being. Politics can be fickle, just look at the Americans. Every fours years it's something else, some new issue that was completely irrelevant to the previous administration. At least the Chinese are consistently underhanded."

"A compliment?" Commander Ikari said, faking a kind of surprise. "From you?"

"Of sorts, I suppose."

"To be honest, I have always been rather impressed with America's solution to government. Life is ever-changing. We know as much from our studies of nature. But while engineers have constantly attempted to replicate nature's designs for the last century, politicians do not tend to pay attention. Change represents success in nature. Animals within an ecosystem face many challenges, but ultimately it all comes to their ability to change. Americans have replicated this in a political system. Change—everything changes. Because it either changes, or it dies."

Ikari turned his head towards her. "Wouldn't you agree, Rei?"

Rei Ayanami almost missed the question altogether. She had gotten so used to being ignored that she felt rather like a ghost, as if she wasn't even present while conversations passed by right next to her. She had been there in the meeting, in every one of them in fact, and throughout the day nobody had addressed her even as a matter of courtesy. She hadn't spoken a word in hours, as none were required of her, and now that she was being called to answer she wasn't sure that she wished to speak.

"I cannot say," she answered. She had been sitting there watching them silently, listening, but it was clear that Commander Ikari at least had not forgotten about her presence.

He gave her a stony look, neither pleased nor displeased.

"Why is that?"

"Because it is not important to me," she said, her voice a soft whisper.

Though she knew some people would find the Commander intimidating, Rei did not feel compelled to look away. She sat with her hands together on her lap, a neutral posture, her eyes fixed but not staring.

"Ah," Fuyutsuki said. "But don't you think you should expand your horizons? Learn as much as you can?"

Rei shook her head in a way that was barely visible. "I am sorry. I did not mean it in that sense. I meant that it is not important to me because it is simply beyond my scope. Whether political change reflects natural change, and whether those things create a lasting ideology are subjects that are irrelevant to my interest. I am not a politician. Considering such things would be a waste of my time."

"An honest girl." Commander Ikari's lips curled into the smallest of smiles. He turned his head to Fuyutsuki. "I think she has a point. We are not politicians either, so it's a waste of our time as well."

"If you say so," the Sub-Commander said. "But old men are allowed to indulge."

Her part in the conversation evidently over, Rei went back to being silent. But she attended more intently now in case she was called on to speak again.

...

No one could have known they were humans, their true identities locked behind their numbered monoliths in the darkened room. They towered like gods above a world that had feared them and their ancestors for centuries. They had survived up to now, outlived purges and holocausts and war, and would survive still until the time of Instrumentality. They were Gog and Magog, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

"Times wastes away. How much can one man hate his own path, maybe enough to forget his involvement and his responsibility?" SEELE 01 spoke. His voice was deep, mechanical.

"He must pay, and those who follow him as well," SEELE 10 said. "Such filth should not enter the Garden, nor eat of the Fruit."

"The end is at hand. There is nothing more. Third Impact, humanity's final purification," SEELE 03 interjected.

"We have defeated the Angels and thus earned our path to the Tree of Life. It's our divine right. Third Impact. Instrumentality, a work in progress, an end to life."

"Only the life of Man, the death of the body, our mortal shell," SEELE 05 offered. "Man has become a race of worthless creatures, restrained by their own individuality, their own AT Fields. Instrumentality must be launched so that Man can be free."

"So that we can all be free," announced SEELE 01. "But first we need a Judas."

"He has already been contacted," SEELE 03 said. "He will be briefed upon our request. Man's final betrayer

...

"Hurry up, stupid! I don't wanna be late on my first day!" Asuka's shrill voice broke the quiet morning air as it had on countless previous occasions. "Come on! Come on!"

"I'm coming!" Shinji called urgently back. Misato had been right about Asuka, he decided, hurriedly fixing their bento boxes for the day with whatever was handy as he'd overslept and fallen behind on his routine.

"Come ON!"

Shinji finished up, wrapping their bentos, and went to join Asuka. She was already waiting by the door, tapping her foot impatiently, and looking remarkably energetic in her school uniform. The two pointy neural connectors holding her hair out of the way stuck out from either side of her head like cutesy devil's horns. He'd always thought they fit her very well.

Misato had definitely been right. The gloomy girl that had come out of the hospital just a few days ago had practically disappeared, fading into the background and replaced by the loud, conceited Asuka he'd come to know and, in a way, accept. He was not naïve enough to believe she was back to normal, but at least being around her wasn't depressing anymore, and it didn't make him feel sorry or guilty either. It was at least tolerable. He thought that he could live with that.

She sighed huffily as he handed her a bento, which she shoved into her book bag while he stooped down to slip on his shoes.

Just as he did, Misato leaned around the corner into view. "Have a nice day, kids."

"Whatever." Asuka rolled her eyes, slid open the door and headed off.

Shinji straightened up, draped his own book bag over his shoulder, and was prepared to follow suit without so such as a curt reply when Misato stopped him.

"Look, Shinji," she said, stepping fully into the tiled landing, "you can be mad at me all you want, but I don't feel like being mad at you, so I'm gonna keep trying to talk to you, even if you don't want me to. One of us has to be the adult here, and apparently it'll have to be me."

"Why do you keep harping on me?" Shinji replied angrily. "Asuka can get away with being upset, but I can't?"

"Asuka is Asuka. I'd expect you to be much more social."

"Well, I don't feel like being very social to you." Shinji hitched up his bag higher and stormed through the open door, aware that he was leaving a disappointed-looking Misato behind.

Asuka was standing in front of the elevator, checking her watch. "That was quick," she said sharply. "What did she want?"

"Uh?" Shinji came to stand behind her, intently examining floor tiles. Slowly, his anger at Misato began to fade.

"Don't play stupid with me, Third Child." Asuka turned to him, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "What's up with Misato?"

"I'm just …" Shinji didn't want to talk about this, but keeping Asuka out of the loop was probably a bad idea. "I'm mad at her because she promised I wouldn't have to pilot Eva and, well, she broke that promise."

Asuke frowned, indicating she expected there to be more. "And?"

"That's all."

"Are you serious? People always make promises they can't keep. It's better than lying. You didn't really think she'd keep it, right? I mean, not even you are THAT stupid, Shinji. She told you what she thought you needed to hear, what you wanted to hear. You can't hold people to their promises. That's just immature."

"Yeah, I know," Shinji said, though he hadn't really at the time. "It just feels—" he hesitated.

"Like you were betrayed?" Asuka finished for him.

He nodded anyway.

"Oh, grow up."

The elevator opened with a ping and Asuka stepped inside, a slight stroll in her step. Shinji stayed behind, wondering if he should bring up something he had wanted to say since she'd come home but had not been able to gather the courage. She shot him an inquisitive look that basically made the decision for him.

"Um, Asuka," he started. "I've been wanting to tell you … that Misato was right in the hospital." He tried a kind smile that he knew made him look silly. "About you not belonging there and about coming home. I'm glad you are—"

Asuka narrowed her eyes, her expression soured, wiping the smile from Shinji's face. Blue eyes narrowed angrily.

"I don't care what Misato said," she said. "Lets get one thing straight, Third Child. The last thing I want—the absolutely last thing I want—is pity from the likes of you. Nothing she said, and nothing you said got me here. I'm here for myself."

"Sorry," Shinji said softly, regretting having opened his mouth, as he knew he would. "I didn't mean to make you angry."

Asuka stepped towards him; her body language aggressive.

"Do you want to know what your problem is?" she said, her voice rising shrilly. "You take what you have for granted, and you think it gives you the right to talk down to me. But you've never had to work for what you have, you just get in your Eva and it goes and you are the hero. You get mad at Misato because she wants you to do what you were born to do. Well, Third Child, some of us can't choose what we want to do. Some of us lowly mortals do what we can, all that we can, because we have nothing else while you decide you are too good for the rest of us, and what do we get?"

She pressed a hand firmly against her chest.

"WHAT DID I GET? I got my head fucked with! And you sat there and watched and did nothing! What, you thought I had it coming, didn't you? You could have helped, couldn't you?" She was screaming now. "So don't tell me you are glad about anything that involves me! Don't give a damn because you want to make yourself feel better! That just makes it worse!"

Even had he wanted to, Shinji could not have managed a reply, frozen by the sudden viciousness of the outburst, painfully aware that he had started it.

He'd underestimated just how deeply Asuka's words could cut him—how much it could hurt to expose himself through what should have been an act of sympathy. He realized then that he'd been wrong about Asuka all along, even about the things he thought he'd figured out; he was so far away from understanding anything about her that they might as well have never met.

And he had no idea how to make it right.

Her venom spent, and seemingly realizing that Shinji was not going to provoke her any further—that he had resolved to simply not saying anything at all—Asuka turned around and entered the waiting elevator again.

Shinji did not follow her. He was still frozen in place, too confused and even hurt to think about what he was supposed to do now.

"Well?" Asuka's hand hovered over the elevator controls. "Are you gonna stand there all day like an idiot or are you getting in?"

All Shinji had to do was take a step and he'd be in the elevator with her, riding together with someone who surely hated him. One step was all he needed to muster and yet he could not because it would mean he'd be alone with Asuka, and then what? Uncomfortable silence? More screaming?

"I ... I ... " he stuttered, swallowing awkwardly. "I think I forgot something."

Asuka's glare studied him for a second, as if she were trying to determine whether he was lying and trying to avoid her. For that moment, the very obvious answer seemed to matter a great deal to her. A look of seriousness—something apart from her anger—crossed her face.

Then she turned up her nose. "Suit yourself."

She stabbed a finger angrily at an elevator button.

The doors started to close in front of him, and Shinji once again thought about stepping in with her. But as she slowly disappeared from view he could not ever bring himself to give her a final pleading look. He wanted to take that step and go with her, knowing fully that she probably didn't want him to. Like before, he couldn't decide to do something for himself if it meant defying others.

Nothing good would come out of this, Shinji thought sadly. No matter how much he wanted to bridge the gap between him and Asuka, he would have to accept that she was not willing to do the same. That he had to let her go.

And so the doors closed, and Asuka was gone.