platypus3333
platypus3333@yahoo.com

ACC heavy. You are warned.

White does not lack a first name out of any particular need to enhance
his uniqueness, but because a suitable one could not be found. The
same can be said of Arisa's last name, sadly.

Similarly, I think I've exceeded the bounds of randomness in a serious
fic?

Stories will be scarce: Diablo 2 Expansion pack!

---

White threw himself into the body of the man immediately to his left
and shoved, scraping the man's side against the jagged brick wall and
receiving a high moan of pain for his trouble. Then, pushing himself
off of the man, he dove for the gun he knew would be lying, on the
battered wooden ground, to his right.

His head jerked back with a resounding crack as a tall, thin man
kicked him in the jaw. White grunted.

"You know better than that, White, you fucking should," the man said,
nodding for two large, heavyset men to hoist the smaller one up by his
shoulders. "You don't fuck with people like that, White."

"I didn't-"

"Shut the hell up!" The thin man picked up the gun on the floor and
studied it carefully. "Jesus, man, I thought- I mean, what with us
being buddies and all, right?"

"Shit." White looked down at the floor, shifting his body slightly to
a moderately more comfortable position. "You know me, man, I don't
fuck around. Not like that."

"Bullshit," the thin man snarled. He darted forward, thrusting the
barrel of the gun under White's chin. "Do you have any fucking idea
how much trouble you are in, White? Huh?"

"Jesus." White craned his neck in a futile attempt to escape the gun.
"I got a fucking good idea."

"Yeah, you do. You think you're the only one with these problems? You
think you're the only one without these goddamned bills to pay?" he
shouted. "Come on, White, do you?"

"Fuck that," White said. "Maybe if you didn't have to pay women to
fuck you, you wouldn't have these fucking problems, all right?"

"Shut the fuck up," the man said, digging the gun into White's skin.
"Shut the fuck up. you're dead and you still don't know it."

White closed his eyes. he opened them again when he heard a thin
whistle of air and he did not die. He felt, rather than saw, the
pressure on his skin slowly ebb away, and took note as the iron grips
on his arms began to dissolve. He stumbled free of the two corpses and
propped himself on the table. Looking up, he regarded the blond man
before him. "Yes?"

"White," the man recited, "twenty-three years old, of English-Japanese
descent?"

"Yes." White straightened up carefully and leaned against the wall,
his eyes darting briefly toward the pistol still held in the thin
man's dead hand. He performed several mental calculations.

The man tilted his head. "White, we have an offer for you. while it is
by no means a completely risk-free venture, if you serve with us well,
you will likely never go hungry again."

White blinked.

---

As the man regarded his two grandchildren- both boys- playing in the
pool, he smiled and took a sip of iced tea. Leaning back on the pale
blue cushion of his chair, he reflected upon them. They were strong
twins; both had wild dark brown hair now matted down by the water they
played in; and, in a gift inherited from their grandfather, each
possessed a pair of brilliant blue eyes. They laughed, splashing each
other idly.

Putting down the empty glass, the man looked up and glanced back over
his shoulder as he heard the door behind him swing open. He smiled
warmly and blinked when his servant handed him a phone. Holding it
firmly to his ear, he motioned for more iced tea. "Hello?" The man
paused. "You. yes. Yes." He pushed himself to his feet and started
toward the house. "I haven't been to Germany in quite a while, old
friend."

---

Maya pressed the tip of her thumb onto the smooth gray pad next to the
door; it felt vaguely like dry rubber clay. As she removed her hand
from the pad, the clear indentation her thumb had left gradually faded
away; the door beeped once, a solid high pitched chime, and slid open
with a slight whine. She walked through, sipping from a long metal
thermos. Wrinkling her nose, Maya found her coffee too bitter and
turned to the lounge immediately to her right, where she found and
used several containers of two percent cream and sugar. Stirring with
a long plastic rod, she idly walked over to the bulletin board and
read what others had earlier posted. She smiled warmly at Saya's third
futile attempt to organize a departmental picnic, as well as some
faceless technician's desire to give away kittens, and sighed at yet
another copy of a randomly chosen cartoon of questionable humor.
Tearing it down, Maya crumpled it up and threw it into the trash as
she walked back to the counter, picked up her folder, and left the
room.

Entering the control center, she blinked in confusion; it was
completely empty, motionless, not even the usual cooling mug of tea on
Makoto's console. Placing her folder and thermos down onto the nearest
table, Maya walked up to the glass viewing window and, pressing
against it gently with her palms, leaned forward to peer downward into
the depths of the room beyond. She made out, near the bottom, nothing;
tracing the walls of the room upward with her eyes, Maya's eyes
widened when she saw the lone figure sitting on the long metal pathway
leading to nothing, balancing himself carefully on the thin rusty end
between firm ground and empty space. Before her eyes, Shinji stared
downward, head propped up with an arm, legs dangling casually into the
fatally large pit.

"Shinji!" she shouted through soundproof glass. She pounded on the
windows. "What the hell are you doing!"

Impossibly, he blinked and glanced down at her briefly, an startled
expression on his face; they regarded each other silently for several
eternal seconds. Then he carefully rose, stepped back, and turned.
Lighting a cigarette, Shinji casually put his hands in his pockets and
walked out past the limits of her vision, assumedly through the door.

Maya strained to catch a glimpse of the commander, cursed, and pushed
herself off of the window. Walking stiffly back out the doors through
which she had just entered, Maya strode up to the elevator and
purposefully hit the button marked "up" with her right fist. The woman
waited quietly, her eyes tracing the horizontal motion of the bright
light directly above the elevator doors.

As the doors slid open, Shinji stuck out a carton. "Cigarette?"

She brushed his arm aside and stepped in with him. "No."

"Suit yourself." He leaned against the back all of the elevator.
"Floor?"

"Wherever you're going."

" I'm flattered."

"What were you doing there?"

"I was just sitting."

"Sitting? With a several hundred foot drop? The he-"

"I was just sitting is all." He waved her quiet with his hand. "Calm
down."

Maya looked straight ahead, arms folded over her chest. "Where's
everyone else?" she asked.

"I let them go on a picnic," he responded. "You came in too late, I
guess."

"A picnic," she repeated.

"Yes."

"As in. food."

"I assume." Shinji glanced at the floor number above the door. "Do you
have the time?"

Maya looked at her wrist. "Yeah- yeah, sure, it's. eight thirty?"

He kept watching the numbers; when the light lit "nine," he pressed
the button "p1." "Well, then we have time," he said. "Tell me when
you're going to get off."

"All right," she said.

---

"Gentlemen, it's been quite a while," Kihl said. He leaned forward in
his wheelchair and regarded the men before him; to his left Elijah
stood silently, arms folded casually behind his back.

"Yes, very," one said. "How are you doing these days, Lorenz?"

"Good, well. but not well enough, never well enough." Kihl paused.
"You do realize, of course, what has become of our little project."

"Obviously," another man said. "They've expanded beyond anything we
predicted."

"Precisely." The old man inclined his head forward slightly. "This
should not be. I'll cut straight to the point, my friends."

"Your proposal?"

"It is Nerv, of course. we destroy Nerv. " His eyes glittered.
"Together once more- as SEELE reborn."

Silence.

"No," the man said firmly. "Not a possibility." The other ten men
around the table murmured and nodded.

"Explain," Kihl responded calmly. "What I propose-"

"What you propose is that, for all intents and purposes, we declare
war on Nerv." The man once known as SEELE 7 shook his head. "Do you
not see, Lorenz. We are nothing next to them, now- minimal resources,
people. in fact, no people, no resources."

"People- resources- relatively irrelevant. They lack discipline and
planning- the son of Ikari- a fool." Kihl pushed his glasses up to the
bridge of his nose reflexively as they began to fall. "Obviously, we
cannot defeat them on a merely physical level- our last endeavor
certainly proved such. We must operate strategically-"

"You grossly underestimate their abilities." SEELE 7 leaned back in
his chair casually. "Why should we trust you? Trust your mind, your
strategies? Did they guide us to victory? Have they ever?"

"My mind, my friend, has given you your spacious home, your bountiful
riches." The old man's eyes flashed darkly. "As it has for all in this
room. If I once led you so far, let me do so again."

SEELE 5 cleared his throat. "Certainly, this is true. You have,
indeed, paved the way to our fortunes. For this we owe you- owe you
much. But with all due respect, I still fail to see any reason to
support you. We have families, children now- we live new lives.
Frankly, we should be thankful Ikari let us go-"

SEELE 7 took up the argument. "Yes- Ikari. We failed once under your
lead, Lorenz- none are willing to do so again."

The others murmured, nodding their agreement once more. United. Kihl
could hear them talk.

Ikari.

Ikari.

Ikari.

Why was everything going wrong so fast?

"Ikari. Ikari. Is that all you fear?" Kihl snapped. "You- you- all of
you. Gendou Ikari is dead. Do you realize- he cannot interfere as he
has- his son is a weak-willed fool, petrified out of fear and
cowardice and indecision. He- he-" The old man stopped, gasping for
breath. As he leaned back in his chair, wheezing, Elijah moved,
reaching under the wheelchair to withdraw an oxygen mask. He carefully
tilted the man's head up and held the mask to Kihl's face as the gasps
gradually grew shorter and shorter in duration. After several minutes,
Kihl closed his eyes calmly and waved the younger man off. Then,
looking around the room, he scrutinized each of his former partners in
turn- their faces looked the same, all of them. Those stubborn,
contemptuous, condescending expressions. all the same. He knew it
then; they would not follow him.

Because they saw him, now, an old fool gasping for life, gasping for a
fool's vengeance, as an inferior; certainly, not in their wildest
imaginations, a leader.

He closed his eyes again and willed their features away; yet, he
couldn't, those pitying eyes. "Kill them," he whispered. "Kill them
all."

Elijah, the only one close enough to hear the old man, bowed his head.
"Gentlemen," he said quietly. "I believe this meeting is over." All
eleven looked at him. As they picked up their coats and shuffled to
the door, single file, they murmured their farewells to the duo and
began to pass the edge of the table where Elijah stood.

Wiping his knife on the fine Versace jacket of a freshly killed
corpse, among many, Elijah sheathed it and gripped the handles of
Kihl's wheelchair, turning it and pushing it out. He paused briefly to
shut the door.

One man blinked in an ever-widening pool of his own blood; it had all
happened so fast, so unexpectedly. He stared blankly at the ever
darkening ceiling; he thought it strangely funny that he would die in
this way, slaughtered by the legacy of a period the man had long
thought buried in his varied past. He chuckled to himself, spitting up
blood; then in the cold plastic tiles above him he fancied he could
see his twin grandsons, his sole beautiful mark upon the world.

---

"This is Nerv," the man said; he wore a clean tan uniform, covered
with what White assumed to be purposefully ironed creases. Standing at
the front of the room, his hands held patiently behind his back, the
man addressed the assembled recruits once more. "If any of you possess
even a rudimentary grasp of current events, you will know who we are.
and what we do."

White looked around; directly next to him, to his right, sat a thin
Indian man with a small pair of yellow tinted glasses and a shaved
head. he appeared to be sleeping, slowly sliding off his seat to the
floor. To White's left rested a moderately attractive red-haired girl.
he glanced appreciatively at her, then shifted his attention back to
the speaker, who had introduced himself as one James Coleman only
several minutes previous...

"Make no mistakes. at this point in time, you are nothing. you know
nothing; given time, of course, we may teach you. given time. No doubt
some of you wonder why and how we have found you, in this
overpopulated mess of a world, especially after your considerable
efforts to remain out of sight." Coleman shook his head. "I won't lie;
each and every one of you possesses talents Nerv may need. to hide
yourself, to hide such resourcefulness. that is a waste of
intelligence, of athleticism, of raw ability." His dark brown eyes
glimmered. I don't think I need to remind you what choice you have.
you can quit now, or later, or not at all. if you wish, by all means,
we will return you to where we found you. but those who wish to do
more than survive. feel that their lives mean something." he trailed
off.

Looking around at those around him, White appraised the others; they
generally appeared surprisingly unglamorous, nondescript, the kind of
person he would've ignored on the street; the common faces, those that
could hide and hide well in plain sight. Upon arrival, Nerv had
immediately separated the various candidates on the basis of their
native languages; White, having only a rudimentary understanding of
Japanese and a far better one of English, had become part of the
smallest group by far. The red-haired girl beside him yawned lazily,
scratching her head. She smiled slightly when he glanced at her; White
smiled back nervously, and he could feel the blood rushing to the back
of his ears.

He wondered briefly how, indeed, his existence had been discovered; no
one thus far had bothered to answer his question.

--

The dim light directly above the elevator highlighted the button
marked "p1." After a high pitched chime, the doors smoothly slid open
to reveal the pair. Maya followed Shinji as he stepped out and began
walking toward the front.

"Hey- hey," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Where am I going?" he repeated, his back to her. He stopped walking.
"I don't know. Maybe home. Or. breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"I haven't eaten breakfast in a while."

"Oh. Ah." She looked back at the elevator. "That isn't a good idea at
all."

"." Shinji took out a cigarette, lit it, and regarded the garage. He
turned toward the sign marked "exit" and started walking. He carefully
swung open the door and looked in. "Why isn't that a good idea," he
finally responded.

"Because, here, we're at work. it's 8:45, you can't leave at 8:45.
Even if," she continued, "you are the commander."

"Great." He walked halfway through. Turning around, he glanced at her.
"Listen. Are you still mad at me?"

"For what?"

"Yesterday."

"That? No. No, not really. why?"

"That's good. I was going to buy you breakfast." Shinji shut the door.

Maya coughed. "Uh?" After several seconds she coughed again. "Uh.
okay?" She looked at the exit with disbelief. Walking over, she pulled
the door open and peered through; he had disappeared. She sighed.

---

"Mr. Blair," Kihl said. "I grow wearier of this discussion every day.
Quite simply, you are friend, or you are enemy- there will be no
neutrality in the conflict to come."

"I- I really can't say, sir." The man was chubby and pale, topped by a
wild shock of brown hair kept in check with far too much oil. He had a
nervous expression on his face, compounded by the thin layer of sweat
glistening on his forehead.  "It isn't that easy- siding with
anything, I mean. We have meetings, discussions-"

"I don't believe I mentioned any body of individuals, Mr. Blair." Kihl
leaned toward the camera. "What I mean- what I mean is, you. Are you,
the person, the politician, on our side?"

"I-" His face darkened. "I-"

"Blair. Let me ask you this."

"Sir?"

"Do you genuinely care about these fools in parliament?"

"What?"

"Do you," Kihl repeated slowly, "give a damn about these people. These
idiotic whiners, the ones who constantly vie for control of their
petty factions, and their factions for control of pointless, futile
debates. These bastards."

"I. I suppose not. But I fail to see what relevance that has."

"Would you ever entrust them with your future?"

"Of course not."

"It is you, then. Up to you. Will you follow me?"

"Yes." Blair raised his head to gaze toward the screen. "Yes- yes, I
am. Sir."

"Excellent. Now-"

"Sir?"

"Prove it." Kihl leaned into his chair. "I need all the information
the British government has on Nerv- every single detail, from its
bases to its allies to its command structure."

Blair swallowed. "Sir, I don't believe that's even possible- Nerv is
an extremely secretive org-"

"I did not ask you if it was possible, Blair." He smiled coldly. "This
is it- this is what you've worked your entire miserable life to do. to
accomplish. With me, you will become great, boy." The old man leaned
forward again. "Now- tell me you cannot do it, and I swear to you- I
swear to you- I will never bother you again, and you can go back to
babysitting those moronic babies for as long as it lasts."

"I'll. I'll get everything I can. Sir."

"More accurately, everything I need. Good day, Mr. Blair." Kihl
flicked the switch on the side of the monitor and sighed, slumping
down into his seat. "Idiot." He closed his eyes tiredly and rubbed his
forehead. "Elijah."

"Yes?" The blond man stepped forward.

"Help me to my bed."

"." The younger man nodded and leaned down. Drawing Kihl's arm over
his own shoulders, Elijah carefully lifted the old man out of his
seat.

---

"Your time is up. put your pencils down now. For obvious reasons, any
cheating, even suspected, will result in disqualification."

White sighed and placed his pencil down onto the hard polished wooden
surface of the table before him. He casually leaned back and placed
his hands behind his head. Looking around the room, he saw that the
post-test emotions were mixed; while some appeared wholly comfortable,
slouched down in their chairs, while various others appeared as
ambivalent as he was. He coughed and nodded slightly as a man walked
past him, picking up his testing booklet and adding it neatly to the
top of a growing pile in his arms. Two others followed, a man and a
woman, who took the pencils and the answer sheets respectively. White
glanced around for a sign of the red haired girl he had seen earlier,
to no avail; he couldn't find her in the seemingly endless crowd of
faces gathered from around the world. The room was disturbingly quiet,
all held within apparently content to sit in silence, ignoring the
presence of the people around them. Minute bursts of whispering
manifested spontaneously all over the room and disappeared just as
quickly.

At the head of the room, Coleman stood up. Placing his hands on his
desk, he leaned forward. "We're giving you five minutes before moving
on to the physical portion of this examination. make use of this time
in whatever way you wish. The bathrooms, for those of you that need
them, are directly across the hall."

White thought for a second and again glanced at the people placed in
his immediate area. None appeared remotely willing to engage in
conversation with him; he played with his fingers idly and wondered
whether or not to stand up and move to a relatively lively portion of
the room. He sighed again. "Hey, how'd you do," he said to the girl
immediately to his right. "Good? Bad?"

The girl, a slender brunette, glanced at him. "Uh. I don't know," she
said. "Maybe. probably bad, you know? I don't think I did good at all,
there were all these questions I just couldn't get, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get what you mean."

"Ah- how, um- how did you do?"

White smiled bashfully and rubbed the top of his head. "I think
they're gonna kick me out, that's how I did."

She laughed, a light and pleasant sound. "What's your name?"

"White," he said.

"White?"

"White," he repeated.

The girl smiled and held out her hand. "Arisa."

White took it and shook. "Arisa.?"

"Arisa."

"All right."

---

Maya sighed and took a bite of her sandwich. After several minutes
wandering about, she had found the only other human presence on the
entire premises, a group of candidates running around haplessly in the
gymnasium. Having greeted the supervisors courteously, she had
returned to the parking lot and left Nerv in search of either lunch or
Shinji; clearly, only the former search had been successful. She took
another bite, swallowed, and sipped her orange juice. All around the
cafe in which she sat, people chatted quietly, tapped their laptops,
or rustled their newspapers; in general, a quiet environment. Before
her she had placed her chosen novel of the week, a light green volume
plainly entitled "Jingo;" she had attempted to read it several minutes
ago, but had lacked the concentration to continue. Maya sighed again
and wondered how to spend the rest of her day.

"Oh- hey, hey!"

She looked up and blinked. "Eh?"

"Dude, Maya- Maya Ibuki, right!" The woman grinned broadly. "Oh, man,
I can't believe- you still look the same, so young! I just can't
believe it!"

Maya blinked again. "Uh."

"I just can't-! How are you these days?"

"Fine," she responded reflexively. "How are you?"

"Oh, great- awesome! I can't believe it, I thought it was you, I saw
you from across the street- and I thought to myself, 'hey, I think
that's Maya,' you know?"

"Yes," Maya said nervously, unsure how to respond. It was obvious the
woman knew her, and she did seem vaguely familiar; but Maya couldn't
place a name.

"And- I'm sorry, I'm all giggly- but oh, did you know, I got married a
couple years back, we're here on vacation- I think they're sitting in
the next cafe- oh, do you have any children, Maya?"

"No. no, not yet."

"Well, you're young yet," the woman sighed. "And- so pretty, too! I
bet you have guys, you know, all trying to get your attention all the
time?"

Maya instinctively blushed and brushed back her hair. "Well, no- no,
not really-"

The woman laughed. "Well, I got to go- oh, before I forget, though.
Here's my number- we really have to talk sometime, you know? I just
can't believe it." She scribbled several digits onto a napkin and
left.

Maya stared at the napkin; however, common sense won over curiosity
and she picked up the napkin, as well as her cup, and threw both away
into the trash; she knew, quite simply, that she would never dial that
number. Wiping her hands with another napkin, she threw that in the
trash too, picked up her belongings, and left.

---

White panted and slumped against the wall, his standard issue Nerv
shirt drenched in his sweat. He had never run so much in his entire
life, nor had had he ever really planned to. In the distance, several
individuals continued to push onward, the last of multiple sets of
candidates. The young man noted, with no small degree of resentment,
that numerous individuals sat smiling and chatting, seemingly
unaffected by the rigorous trial they had all just undergone; several
had barely broken a sweat. White blew out a mouthful of air and
sighed. He knew he had tried as hard as possible, given the prize- yet
he found he was still possessed of an overbearing sense of defeat.
Would he be forced to return to those slums in which he had been
found? To eke out a meager living, to die unknown and unwanted? It was
out of his hands now; he had never been a very fast boy, simply
content to keep with the pack and no more; yet years of neglect had
subtly chipped away his physical condition to this point. He had to
get in, into Nerv- he couldn't even recall any want he had ever felt
even half as passionately.

Arisa had smiled and waved as the supervisors had separated people by
sex; after watching her go, he had turned to hear the seemingly ever
present Coleman, who informed them that after this last physical test,
all would meet in the cafeteria for a massive lunch. White hoped to
find her then- of all the people he had seen and met so far, he felt
he could relate to her best.

He looked up as Coleman clapped his hands and signaled that the
candidates should enter the showers. White slowly lifted himself up
from his sitting position and followed the large crowd toward the
locker room.

---

"I assume- I assume we all know what I'm talking about," Blair said.
His forehead gleamed with sweat. "Nerv. All are familiar with the
implications and connotations of that single phrase. Nerv."

The rest of the large meeting room was completely silent, all focused
intently on the speaker and his words.

"We know, clearly, where it came from- and when this organization
attained its current levels of power. Daily, with every second and
minute and hour, Nerv expands the range of its influence on this
world." Blair leaned forward. "The question- the question is, how
satisfied are we to allow them to do so? Are we content to watch them
take control of our countries and people?

"Think back. We know Nerv defeated us soundly at the peak of our
power- a huge military defeat and setback, of course. Similarly, we
understand how they did so- with the use of purportedly
extraterrestrial technology. But since then- mark my words, since
then- Nerv has not showed a single instance or glimmer of Evangelion
technology. Is that not strange?

"That an organization based on- or, more accurately, based around- the
Evangelion would suddenly cease to use it? To even discuss it, or
acknowledge it's existence?

"It is clear, extremely clear, to me. The existence of the Evangelion
is known to all- I, myself, was a foot soldier in Tokyo-3 that day.
And I saw them, as have many of you. The Jet Alone crisis years ago-
an overt display of Evangelion and Evangelion power. It is obvious,
especially to Nerv, that the rest of the world knows about the
Evangelions.

"Why, then, this silence? This absence? Just last year, Nerv performed
an operation in Central America that cost several dozen soldiers when
a single Evangelion would have sufficed! Why? Because the Evangelions
NO LONGER EXIST."

Blair smiled inwardly and felt a profound sense of satisfaction as his
last statement instigated a round of murmurs and involuntary gasps
around the room. He wiped his forehead with a napkin and tapped his
microphone. "I challenge any individuals," he said loudly above the
din, "to provide a logical reason why we have not seen or heard about
any Evangelion activity." As the room quieted down again, he resumed
his normal volume. "They will find they cannot. Now, Nerv.

"It has assumed a role and arrogance far beyond anything even our
American peers have achieved in the past. Nerv has not only policed
the world, it has SUCCEEDED. While America clearly lost Vietnam, Nerv
has won Central America, has won Australia, and has, in fact, beaten
the entirety of the United Nations at our own game. Does anyone find
this remotely acceptable? Anyone?" Blair looked around and nodded.
"No," he said forcefully. "We do not. Why? Because it is clear, it is
obvious, that the end of Nerv's quest lies in domination. An armed and
manned base now exists in every area in which Nerv has interfered- no
single organization, even country, should have this power."

Blair straightened and bowed his head. "I advise we discuss a plan of
action immediately, to halt this progress as soon as possible. For
those of you who wish to contact me- you all know how." He nodded once
more and carefully walked off the stage. He opened the door to the
parking lot; behind him, the room again grew noisy with talk and
discussion. The man smiled again and walked toward his car.

---

Shinji threw yet another cigarette into his ash try and rolled over in
his bed to regard the clock. It was exactly noon; he groaned to
himself and pushed the pillow over his face. His new apartment was far
larger than his previous one- perhaps even several times the size and
space. Yet, within days, he had clearly and unquestionably made it his
own. Clothes and empty cigarette cartons lay scattered about randomly,
carelessly tossed to the ground. Outside his bedroom, his living room
and kitchen were in similar states, various instant noodle packages
and pizza boxes had been left in their initial positions, destined to
sit until god knows when. Thinking about his environs, Shinji absently
wondered at what point he had become Misato.

The young man rested a while, pillow over his head, letting his arms
enjoy the cool air of the apartment. He wondered why he could not
sleep, and groaned again. He knew, soon, the headaches would start and
then he would lose all chance of slumber. No pain killer he ever tried
seemed to work, as if even Aspirin wanted him to suffer.

Shinji was so caught up in his own misery he failed to detect the
other human presence in his house. He started as someone tapped him
lightly on the left arm and reflexively flung the pillow in that
direction. The young man frowned as he peered at the intruder.

Maya threw the pillow back at him and stood framed in the light
flooding through the doorway, her hands on her hips. "Aren't you
supposed to be neat," she asked, appraising his room.

"I find no reason I should be," he muttered.

"Well, I mean."

"Why and how are you in here," he asked. "I was sleeping."

"Yes, trying to sleep," she retorted. "No one goes to sleep at
twelve."

"Ah." He took the pillow and stuck it back under his head. He peered
at her, squinting into the light. "What do you want?"

"Um." She looked down at her feet. "I just wanted to find you,
actually- I didn't expect to actually see you, so I didn't have any.
uh."

He stared at her. "How did you get in?"

"I got myself a card." She held up a small, white piece of plastic
between her index and middle fingers and waved it.

"You can enter at any time?"

"Yes?" Maya put the card back in her pocket. "Listen, I know that's-
that's kind of rude, but-"

"Ah." He frowned. "I'd like to sleep now."

"Hey- hey, no, no you're not."

"Yes I am. Don't enter my home like this again."

"Ikari, you have way better things to do today than sleep. It's
wasting the day."

"Not to me- not to me it isn't."

"It is. Come on-"

Shinji glared at her. "I'm sorry- I didn't realize you were my mother.
My mistake." He turned over, presenting her with his back.

She took a breath. Stepping carefully but surely across the room, Maya
drew back the curtains and leaned on the sill. "Shinji," she said,
looking out the window at the sun. "You're going to get up now. You're
going to need, I assume, to shower. And then we're cleaning your
apartment." She turned and walked back out before he could provide a
suitable retort.

Shinji stayed still for several long seconds, then sighed and turned
over again. "Jesus Christ," he said to no one in particular.

---

"Mr. White," Coleman said. "Your written test scores, while hardly
mediocre, displayed an average level of intelligence at best. Your
physicals- slightly better- indicate you are relatively out of shape
for your height, weight, and age."

White didn't say anything and tried to meet the man's piercing gaze.
He found it was impossible and stared, instead, absently at the piece
of paper in Coleman's hand. "Oh," he replied finally. He visualized
his return to the debilitated area in which he had been found.

"Yes, oh." Coleman flipped over several sheets of paper in his folder
and picked up a new one. "And- apparently you sold a wide variety of
drugs for several years, correct?" He held up his hand immediately.
"Excuses are unnecessary."

White looked at the hand. "Yes, sir."

Coleman placed the paper back down onto the desk and leaned back in
his chair. Folding his arms over his chest, he regarded the younger
man. "Have you ever done them?"

"Drugs?" Whit twitched.

"That is correct, drugs."

The younger man found it pointless to lie; clearly, he was not the
first person to undergo this interview, and Coleman seemed eerily
capable of detecting a falsehood. He sighed inwardly and replied,
quietly, "yes, sir."

"Do you still do them?"

"No. no, sir."

"Marijuana in high school, correct?"

White blinked in surprise. "Ah- yes, yeah."

Coleman silently stared at the ceiling. "Mr. White, no doubt at this
point you realize you're going to be sent back to where we found you,
correct?"

"Uh." White scratched his palm. "Uh, well- yeah?"

"That would be incorrect. Tomorrow you will board a flight, along with
several other candidates, to begin training in Australia. You will
return within several months." He looked straight at the younger man.
"I assume that you will not have many personal belongings to bring- do
you have any questions?"

"No- no."

"When you exit, tell the next candidate to enter. The rest of the day
is yours- however, for obvious reasons, keep all the details to
yourself."

---

"Throughout my life, I have encountered one puzzling facet of human
nature," Shinji said. "People- no matter what age- people always
assume I enjoy being bothered. That, somehow, I like cleaning, I like
cooking, I like getting kicked around like a ball. This is not only
wrong, it is downright perplexing. And now I think of- I think of
Rei."

He sat silent for several seconds as the tape recorder continued to
whirl. "How did she feel? Did she feel this way? So- so bothered?
Annoyed? When we called her, tried to talk to her- did we truly
accomplish anything? She looked so bored.

"Maybe. maybe father was right. Maybe we aren't meant to interact.
We're solitary- solitary." Shinji leaned back in his chair and
regarded the office. Had his father sat in this position, alone,
thinking to himself? Had Rei thought such things in her deepest, most
private moments? Had they just wanted to push away, as he did so
strongly?"

Shinji shivered.





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