Rei Ayanami's heart was beating too fast, fluttering against her chest as if it was trying to escape. She closed her eyes and tried to do as Dr Akagi had instructed, breathing in, breathing out, but her racing heart would not slow, nor did the nausea in her stomach or the tightness in her chest subside. Her plug suit itched against her skin, the LCL in her lungs made her want to gag, and her entry plug felt like a sort of trap she had gotten herself caught in.

"Rei, your vital signs are fluctuating. Pull yourself together or we'll have to abort the experiment again". Dr Akagi's voice was hoarse, she could hear that even over the radio. She knew Dr Akagi was right, they had run through this many times before. She would sit in the entry plug, Unit-00 would fail to move, and there she would sit for hours while the ground crew fiddled with various system parameters in vain. Today should be no different. "We don't have time for this."

I don't want to be here anymore.

"Yes, Dr Akagi", she said. Her limbs felt unbearably heavy. She was not tired. She simply did not want to move. Or to breathe. Or to do anything at all. She let out the breath she had been holding, the bubbles rising up to the entry hatch, trapped there. There was nothing left for her to do.

"We made it to the second stage last time, could you at least try to cooperate? Just think of something comforting if the breathing exercises aren't working". Rei could hear Commander Ikari say something she did not catch. "Yes, as many times as it takes. Of course, Commander."

Rei took a deep breath and held it. The LCL would not drown her, but for a moment she allowed herself to fantasise that there had been a mistake, that her lungs were filled not with LCL but with water. The seconds trickled by, and she began to feel the urge to breathe burning in her chest. With her eyes closed, she could almost imagine her skin turning blue, her heart stopping, her skin growing cold as her short life reached a satisfying end at last. She let her breath out at last, and reluctantly took another one.

"Rei, whatever you're doing in there, keep doing it. Your pulse is dropping. Good work." Another pause. The Commander, speaking again in his rough voice. "Yes, Commander. Rei, we're going to start the experiment. Another few minutes, and you can go home. Are you ready?"

Home. I want to go home.

"Yes, Dr Akagi". There was no point in saying no. Another activation test would come along soon enough. She heard Dr Akagi sigh, then call out further orders. "Connect all main power circuits". The voice of someone Rei did not know replied. "Main power supply connected. Starting the activation system."

But you won't be able to get home by yourself, right, said the Commander's woman in that sickly sweet tone she always reserved for her. Come with me, Rei.

A low-pitched rumbling sound began to reverberate through the walls of the plug, the vibrations shuddering up through her feet into her teeth. Then, the humming of unseen electronics from Unit-00's power socket above her. A chill ran up her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, and the LCL began to feel lighter, almost but not quite like air.

I can go home by myself, so leave me alone, you old hag. She hadn't been able to keep herself from smiling as Naoko Akagi's composure slipped. It wouldn't be long now.

The voices of people Rei did not know, over the radio. Transmitting pulses, connecting circuits, meaningless words from meaningless people. Power to brachial muscles. Third stage connection. Absolute borderline. Before her eyes, her entry plug was lit up with a swirling of rainbow colours, before giving way to Unit-00's enormous field of vision.

Rei, it's not nice to call someone an old hag. You'll need a scolding from Director Ikari. Naoko san's voice was tense now, a harsh edge to it. Rei's smile had grown a little wider. Too easy.

Before her lay a vast empty chamber of bone-white, punctuated by an oasis of glass on the far wall where she could see the tiny figures of Dr Akagi and the Commander. She lifted her head, and she felt Unit-00's head lift with her. There she was, Dr Ritsuko Akagi, the woman who had killed her. The woman who had…

No, that's not right. Dr Akagi has never hurt me. These aren't my thoughts. Rei was starting to feel sick. Her head was beginning to throb, her heart racing again. They're…someone else's thoughts? Who is it? Is there someone else in here, besides me?

Who are you?

Then she felt it, a phantom sensation running all over her body, the feel of cold metal pressing against her skin. Her body suddenly felt too small. Rei felt her fists clench, felt her eyes dart around without any input from her, felt her face twisting into an expression she had never felt on it before, felt a second heart hammering in her chest alongside her own.

That's what the director says. We don't need that old hag any more.

Eyes wide. Mouth open. Fear. No, horror. Good. So very easy. So quick to break. Just one more push. So close. Free at last. Hands on her neck, squeezing until the vertebrae cracked under the pressure. The world going dark. Rei could see her now, the white giant on the cross. So close. The void in her heart singing to her, the call to answer unbearable.

Welcome home

I'm home

Rei groaned, and deep within Unit-00, an answering cry of pain, as loud as a thunderclap. She retched and vomited into the LCL, distantly hearing voices shouting and alarms going off. Her heart crashed into her ribcage over and over again, as if trying to escape, and her whole body began to shudder uncontrollably. The LCL was hot, much too hot, scalding her skin like liquid fire.

But I did not die.

Wet feet on a cold, hard floor. She stumbles across it as if she'd never walked before, but the commander is there to catch her, the LCL dripping off her, staining his gloves. He's holding her. It's the first time anyone has ever held her.

No. That's wrong. It's the second time, isn't it?

She repeats his instructions. Her name is Rei Ayanami. She is fourteen years old. The commander nods, satisfied. Without his glasses, his face seems softer, somehow, a sorrowful expression etched in the lines around his eyes and mouth.

No! The white giant, the call. I was so close. Why…?

Naoko Akagi. No, not her. Someone who looked like her. Her daughter…? Hundreds of other Reis floating in the tanks, vacant smiles, motionless. "She's usable", said the woman. "We can bring her back, over and over again."

You! Why won't you let me die?

A hot, prickling, sickening feeling, one she had never felt before, filling up the whole of her body, something she had no words for. She screamed, and Unit-00 screamed with her and staggered forwards towards the observation window, towards that disgusting woman, and they smashed their fists against it, willing it to break, willing that woman to break, willing herself to break. She began to sob, retching, shaking as her heart burst with feelings that were not hers and which she could not name, and then she heard the firing of rockets, a sudden lurch of movement, and everything went dark.

Her head struck the side of the entry plug, then she was slammed face-down into the floor of the plug, then thrown to the side, her arm cracking under the impact, glassy, razor-sharp pain like nothing she had ever known. Then hot, agonising stillness. She lay there, unable to move, the sight of the orange glass splintering burned into her memory, Commander Ikari tiny and fragile right behind it, so close she could have crushed him with her Eva's little finger.

I tried to kill Dr Akagi. I tried to kill the Commander.

The thought made her want to run, to limp away as fast as she could and find some quiet corner to die in. This is what I am for. This is why I was made. And I tried to hurt them. She was in pain, so much pain, and her breath came deep and fast, faster and faster, and Rei's skin began to prickle. If only I had died instead.

A sound from outside. Someone was forcing the hatch. Rei flinched, feeling utterly exposed, the light itself seeming to judge her. The silhouette of a man leaning over, a man she knew well. He was shouting at her, no, shouting for her.

"Rei! Are you all right? Rei!"

Commander Ikari…?

He wasn't wearing his glasses. He was not calm, composed or in control, his face twisted into an expression of pure panic. Rei raised her head to look him in the eyes, and nodded, unable to speak. His features softened, and to her astonishment, the corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

"Good," he said. He reached for her, gently lifting her from the pilot's seat, holding her firm against his chest, and brought her back out into the light, setting her down by the entry plug. She heard him shout for a medic, heard the sounds of doors opening and people's footsteps running towards her.

Rei felt her racing heart begin to slow at last, settling into a warm and steady beat, along with another strange sensation, a warm and ticklish feeling in her stomach. She let her head fall to one side, and her gaze fell on his glasses. They had fallen in the LCL, cracked in the heat. She reached for them, held them loosely in her grip, held them in the careful way he'd held her, and then she felt herself being lifted onto a stretcher as the last of her consciousness faded away.

“The spare is useless. We need you again, Rei.”

She had expected this might happen. “Yes, sir”.

There was no time, not for the nurses to handle her properly as they hauled her off the hospital bed, ignoring her gasps of pain, not enough time to get what was left of her plug suit on over her broken arm, not enough time for an activation test with Unit-01. Rei forced herself to keep her good eye open as the nurses rushed the gurney down the corridor, her gaze darting to and fro between the pinched, frightened faces of the men and women who were handling her.

The world is full of people who are in pain, just as I am. Her pain was not greater than theirs, these ordinary people who were placing their whole trust in her. The Commander’s words rang true. It is for them I must endure. She cried out despite herself as the gurney caught on the door to the Evangelion’s hangar bay, wishing away her trivial pain, willing herself to hold on.

But the pain would not be bargained with, seizing her entire body as she tried to sit up, and all the mantras that she had been telling herself vanished in the face of the burning aches that ran all up her body. She held still for a moment, her quivering voice betraying her, and just as she found the will to stand, the facility shook with the sound of a thunderclap, and she shrieked as she was thrown from her gurney onto the ground.

She gasped for air as if she was drowning, unable to even scream, hearing the sound of hurried feet approaching, then she felt warm hands on her back, easing her up off the ground, the pain clenching her body in its grasp once again. Whispering. Someone whispering to himself?

Her eyes opened. The boy who was holding her was whispering something to himself under his breath, over and over again, shaking slightly, his blue eyes widening in surprise as they met hers. A boy with soft, delicate features. A familiar face.

I know you, she thought, and could not explain how.

The boy lifted his head, a determined look on his face as he addressed the room. “I’ll do it! I’ll pilot the EVA!”, he cried. She saw Captain Katsuragi spring to her feet, Dr Akagi dial someone on her phone and speaking in a businesslike manner, and the boy’s newfound confidence quickly evaporating as the room adjusted to the new reality.

Almost as if they’d been expecting this very outcome.

The nurses took her away from the boy, loading her back on her gurney, and one of them handed her a cell phone as she was taken away. It was the Commander.

“Good work, Rei. My son will take things from here.”

Rei blinked. But I didn’t do anything. She wondered what to say, but he hung up before she could think of a reply. All that was left was the jarring sense of having prepared for a battle of endurance that had now mercifully been passed to someone else. And she had no idea why.

The nurses moved her slower now, lights blurring overhead, smaller tremors shaking the building now, and suddenly she realised why the boy had seemed so familiar.

Commander Ikari has a son?


* * *


It was evening, as far as Shinji could tell. The landscape beyond the hospital window was bathed in twilight, disturbed by the relentless chattering of cicadas. His arms and legs felt disconnected somehow, as if his limbs didn’t quite belong to him, and whenever he closed his eyes, he saw a green one looking back, the eye of his EVA, as it if had only then realised he was inside of it and decided it no longer needed him.

The EVA is alive, he thought with faint horror. It doesn’t even need me to move. His thoughts raced around in circles, like little ants whose nest had just been kicked over. He squeezed his fists shut, opened them again, his skin cold and clammy in the humid remnants of the day’s heat. He had stumbled, fallen, frozen like the useless, frightened child that he was.

Did Misato know that it wasn’t me? He didn’t know which was worse, the thought that they didn’t know it was the EVA that had moved that way, that they somehow believed he could repeat the performance, or that they did know, that they had in fact counted on this happening. What if the EVA didn’t move by itself next time?

This is insane, he decided. There’s no way I can… He wrapped his arms around his sides, not knowing what to do with his hands, unable to shake the sense that he’d ended up in a trap of his own making. I can’t do this again. I have to tell them they’ve made a mistake, that I can’t actually…I’m not going to be able to pilot it again! And…

A door opened at the other end of the corridor, as loud as a gunshot in the silence. Then he saw her, out of the corner of his eye, and his breath caught in his throat. It was that girl, the one his father had threatened to send out in his place, lying on the gurney being wheeled along.

She was looking at him, a ghost in the evening light, blood-red eyes focused unmistakably on him. Then she disappeared into the darkness at the end of the corridor. Shinji closed his eyes, and let out his breath in one long shaky sigh.

And if I don’t pilot again, Father will put her in danger instead of me. Her expression had been impossible to read. Is she happy that she didn’t have to pilot? Sad? Angry? There was no way to tell.

Does she even care that I saved her? He shuffled back to his hospital room and collapsed on the bed, remembering how warm she had felt to the touch, the sticky feel of her blood on his hands, her sharp cries of pain as she shook in his arms.

Do I care? Why am I still here?


* * *


“The Third Child is leaving Tokyo-3 tomorrow. You do realise that’s going to leave Unit-01 as a giant paperweight, right?”

Dr Akagi’s words were muffled by the LCL, but Rei could just about hear her voice from within the dummy plug test tube. The LCL plant above them was a mess of pipes and cables, its knots and tangles reminding her of the wrinkled surface of a brain. She could hear the sound of the pumps whooshing over and over again, like the sighs of a giant as it breathed in its sleep.

If the commander was bothered by Dr Akagi’s words in any way, Rei could not tell. His face was not visible, but from behind, his posture had not changed, his hands clasped behind his back, his voice inaudible. Dr Akagi tapped away at her tablet as she listened, her expression growing more and more concerned.

“I know, but I can’t guarantee we’ll have a viable dummy plug in time for the next angel attack”. She folded her arms and waited again, listening to more unheard words from the Commander, then her eyes widened in surprise.

“You want her in Unit-01? Don’t you think that’s risky?” Akagi glanced at Rei, then back to the Commander again, opened her mouth as if to argue, then hesitated as if thinking the better of it.

“Fine. We’ll need to begin the trials right away then. Starting with today’s test data, we can have a simulation body up and running by the end of the week…”

Rei closed her eyes and felt a heavy sense of unease settling in. So this was why they’d brought her down here. Something about Akagi’s questioning glance made Rei wonder about how this new development had come about.

Ikari, you fought bravely against the enemy. You left and you returned. Why did you leave? The thumping sound of the LCL pumps beat in time to her thoughts. Why return only to leave again?

Privately she wondered if she could really fill his role. Even if she synchronised with it somehow, Unit-01 would never move for her as it had for him. Something about Ikari had brought out a feral side to it that she had never seen before. That he was leaving now did not bode well.

“We’re going to run some preliminary tests. Rei, are you listening?” She opened her eyes, and waited for Dr Akagi’s instructions. The Commander was facing her too, now, the dim light making it impossible to see his eyes through his tinted glasses, but he smiled at her now, a small, half-hearted smile that she could not help but return, even as her skin prickled from the scanning.

She had endured many tests like this one in the run-up to the last activation experiment. Many, many times she had dreamed of disappearing, that she would survive the test of endurance that was her whole life by simply ceasing to live at all. Perhaps this was why Ikari had run away. He too must be finding this battle of endurance exceeded his capacity to cope.

But I cannot leave. Because there will always be another Rei Ayanami. Even if she died, some future her would live on to serve the scenario no matter what happened. But Ikari was free to walk away, since there was only one of him. He was not like her, he was irreplaceable. It didn’t really matter, she supposed, because on the promised day he would merge with them anyway.

He is free to go as he pleases. But she still had the Commander, still knew with certainty that his plan would bring happiness to everyone. Ikari, evidently, did not.

If I did not have the Commander, would I have chosen to live?

She did not know the answer.


* * *


There was no mistaking it. Father was smiling. With Ayanami, of all people.

He wasn’t supposed to be using the Evangelion’s cameras this way, he knew. Zoomed in this far, with the rest of the facility at normal magnification gave him the dizzying sense that he was falling into them, falling towards Father and Ayanami, but unable to reach them. Father really was the kind of man who could smile. But only she had brought out that side to him.

It was incredible how much of a difference it made. Shinji had come to think of Father’s face as being like the top of a cliff; hard, cold and rough. But now his features bore none of the rigid tension that suggested a seething contempt below the surface. He looked like a different man, one who might have said how was school, Shinji or we can’t do this without you, Shinji or whatever else he was saying to Ayanami instead of him.

Did Ayanami just…giggle? She did. And she was smiling too, a small, eager smile. She, too, looked almost like a normal girl of his age from here, not the cold, distant machine who looked right through him rather than at him when she spoke. It seemed neither Father nor Ayanami cared about anything he did for their sake, only about each other.

Shinji slumped back in the throne of his entry plug, unable to look any more as he turned off the magnification. But that made it worse, somehow, because now his mind rushed to supply the looks on the faces of the two tiny figures across the chamber from him.

The bitterness he felt inside swirled around with no place to go. Did he even have any right to be angry? Was quiet, apathetic Ayanami the kind of child that Father found pleasing? No, that couldn’t be it. She wasn’t her usual distant self around him. Each of them had a hidden side that only the other could bring out.

Was it because I didn’t want to pilot Unit-01? Suddenly, his act of defiance back then seemed unbearably childish. Ayanami had volunteered even while too injured to fight. Is that it? Is that what Father always wanted? His resentment now blossomed into shame. What must Father have thought of me?

Far below, the two tiny figures parted ways. Ayanami was alone now, her head bowed.

Then, a small movement on the monitor caught his eye. Down on the walkway, Father was looking up at him.


* * *


“I’m sorry about earlier….”

Rei turned her head. She couldn’t quite see him from where she was standing on the escalator. Ikari had been following her all day, and even after handing her the new key card he still seemed to want something from her. She cast her mind back, trying to figure out what it was he wanted forgiveness for.

“I knocked, and there was no answer, and the buzzer was broken, and I thought…I’m not the sort of person who’d…ever do such a thing…” he rambled from behind her.

Now she understood. He was referring to his theft of the Commander’s glasses from earlier. Seeing them on his face had bothered her, and she still felt bothered by it. The feeling had not gone away, living on as a kind of prickly heat in her chest, not like the warmth she had felt before, but something very uncomfortable.

“They are all I have of him. Why did you take them?”

Ikari did not reply right away. They were about halfway down the escalator. Rei’s mind had already begun to drift back to the activation test when he finally spoke again.

“Are you saying they belonged to my father? Why do you have them?”

Rei opened her mouth to speak, and then found herself saying nothing. Why did she have them? It wasn’t easy to put into words. She thought about it for a bit.

“They make me feel warm inside. Like he does. Isn’t that why you wanted them too?”

She heard a sharp intake of breath from behind her.

“Of course not! How could I feel that way about a father like him!”

It was as though some invisible force had caught her by the heart and squeezed. She turned around and looked Ikari square in the eye, her teeth clenched, her face growing hot as the defiant expression on his face melted away in the face of her gaze. She could see him clearly now, his hands balled into fists, now loosening, and his shoulders hunched in on themselves.

“Wh…what…?”, he muttered.

Before she knew it, she had struck him hard across the cheek. He yelped and shrank away from her, one hand gingerly holding his face, his eyes wide and darting around. She stared at him for a moment, then looked down at her hand, which stung a little.

Why did I do that, she wondered. All those odd things she was feeling in her body had suddenly added up to…what, exactly? Striking Ikari had been foolish. What if Unit-00 responds to me and punches the wall again? What if I disappoint the Commander?

They passed the rest of the escalator ride in silence. She did not look back as she made for the changing rooms, the world blurring by her in streaks of concrete and fluorescent light. Inside, she popped open the glasses case, just looking at them, not daring to touch them to avoid smudging the lenses.

She sighed, took another deep breath, felt all the frustrating things she had felt around Ikari…the other Ikari…fade away. There it was, that gentle warm flutter she had felt back then. The Commander’s smiling face filled her mind.

Twenty minutes later, the activation test itself proved unremarkable. She was tense, alert for any signs of whispered voices or mysterious violent urges, but none came, and when the familiar swirl of rainbow colours light up the entry plug, all she saw was what was actually in front of her.

“Borderline cleared,” came Liutenant Ibuki’s voice over the radio. “Unit-00 activated”. Rei awaited further instructions, sure that she would have to learn to move Unit-00 itself now, but none came. Instead, an alarm sounded all over the Geofront, one she could hear even from within her EVA.

It was a sound Rei knew well by now. Angel alert.


* * *


The last thing he could remember was the LCL boiling around him as he screamed for Father, for Misato, for anyone at all to get him out of there. Now, aside from the phantom pain in his chest, he was alone, in the same hospital as before, or so he thought, with the same pale evening light shining in through the windows. Then a rustle of movement to his left caught his eye, and he turned to look, seeing an unexpected but familiar figure there.

Ayanami…?

It was her. She turned her head, her expression opaque as always, the twilight giving her an otherworldly look. Shinji sat up, then regretted it immediately as he realised he was naked, grabbing the sheets in a panic and pulling them up over his body, but she didn’t seem bothered. Instead, her gaze fell on his bare chest for a few moments, and he felt his face growing hot with embarrassment.

“Ayanami, I’m glad you’re here, but please don’t stare”, he mumbled. She looked at him for a moment longer, seemingly without any real interest, and then took out a pamphlet from her dress pocket, and began to read as if he hadn’t said anything.

“Tomorrow, at 0000 hours, Operation Yashima will begin. Pilots Ikari and Ayanami will assemble at the cage at 1730 today…”

Shinji’s heart sank as she carried on. Well, now I know why she’s here. She clearly hadn’t been waiting because she was worried about him. No one was particularly concerned when he got hurt, when he ran away from home, when he returned, when he went out to fight again. No matter what I do, it doesn’t seem to make a difference to anyone.

Ayanami had finished speaking. She grabbed the food tray and shoved it at him, looking at him and waiting. He stared at the tray. The last thing he felt like doing was eating. He could see the beam heading right for him again, feel the blistering agony of being boiled alive. “Do I really have to fight it again?”, he asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

“Yes. You do”. Her blood-red gaze regarded him without a hint of expression. Shinji suppressed a shudder. There was something off about her. Something wrong, beyond mere shyness or social awkwardness.

“Ayanami, you don’t know what it’s like! You’ve never been in combat before! You don’t know how it feels to nearly die!” The words were tumbling out of him now, reckless.

“You won’t die.” She was so matter of fact about it that Shinji immediately knew who she reminded him of. Father. “Because I’ll protect you”.

He could only shake his head in disbelief. Ayanami was a thin, pale girl who looked like a stiff breeze would knock her over. That she was the one who had been assigned to protect him and not the other way around seemed utterly backwards. And she’s just accepting her fate like it’s nothing?

To his shame, he felt tears burning behind his eyes. “You could die! I could die! You’ll never be able to see Father again!” He was shaking again. How pathetic he must look right now. “Doesn’t that matter to you at all?”

Ayanami’s expression shifted ever so slightly. “It does not matter.”

“Is that the kind of person father loves?” He felt ridiculous arguing in this state, half-dressed, but now that he had started, he could hardly stop. “Someone who will throw their life away as if it’s nothing? Why would you fight for someone like that?”

It was hard to tell, but there something about the way she stood now that made him wonder if his words had finally reached her. She had slumped a little, her head bowed.

“What do you mean, the kind of person he loves?”, she asked.

Shinji blinked. Of all the answers she could have given, that one he hadn’t expected. “You said earlier you feel warm around him. I bet Father feels that way about you, too”. She was paying him her full attention now, and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. “I don’t think there’s anyone who feels that way about me.”

Rei was very quiet and very still, and did not answer him for a long time. When she spoke again, it was in a quiet, heavy voice.

“Is that why you are afraid to fight?”

He didn’t know why, but her words felt like an accusation. “If father felt like that about me, he’d want to keep me safe. And I don’t think anyone cares if I get hurt or not”.

She regarded him with a distant expression on her face. It wasn’t quite the blankness of before. “Then stay. I will fight in Unit-01 on your behalf”.

He stared dumbly at her, the significance of her words taking a moment to sink in. “Wait…Ayanami, I didn’t mean that you had to - “

She wasn’t listening, already halfway out of the door of his room, which hissed shut behind her. His anger now felt absurd, ungrateful. A shiver ran up his bare back. Why had he said all that? Because he thought she’d care? Someone was going to have to fight the angel, no matter what. Of course, if he he didn’t do it, the burden would naturally fall on her shoulders.

The clock on the wall was ticking. It was nearly five. He took one last reluctant look down at the meal tray on his lap, then forced himself to eat the dry beans and greasy egg. A strange sense of claustrophobia had set in, deep in his chest. He could see Ayanami in his mind’s eye, hauling herself off that stretcher on his very first day, shaking, coughing up blood.

I’ll protect you, she had said. But who’s going to protect her?

The lights flickered overhead as another tremor hit the facility, each one unmistakably stronger than the last. Her breathing was shallow and laboured as she struggled to keep the chilling feeling in her chest from erupting into panic. She glanced at the masked faces of the nurses who were wheeling her along, trying not to cry out as the gurney crashed through the doors to the EVA hangar. Though she could not see their expressions, she could tell from their eyes that they were afraid.

This world is full of people who are in pain, just as you are. It is for them that you must endure.

She repeated the Commander’s words silently in her mind as Unit-01’s purple masked grimace came into view above her. It is for them that I must endure. But sitting upright immediately put those words to the test as her ribs ached with splintering pain. Her voice betrayed her, and she cried out in agony as her body seized up. Dimly, she noticed the spare pilot that Commander Ikari had told her was useless. For his sake, too, she had to fight.

It is for them that I must endure. It is for -

Rei was not prepared when the next explosion came, and the white-hot torment of her ribs hitting concrete purged her mind of everything that was not pain. She forced the scream in her throat down, but she could not move, her traitorous body fighting to resist anything that could hurt it any further.

Then, she heard footsteps, and someone’s warm hands on her back. Someone’s voice.

“I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away…”

She was being held in someone’s arms. Her eyes opened. It was the spare, mumbling to himself under his breath, and his blue eyes opened and widened in surprise as his gaze met hers. A boy with soft, delicate features. A familiar face.

I know you, she thought, and could not explain how.

The boy lifted his head, a determined look on his face as he addressed the room. “I’ll do it! I’ll pilot the EVA!” he cried. She saw Captain Katsuragi spring to her feet, Dr Akagi dial someone on her phone and speaking in a businesslike manner, and the boy’s newfound confidence quickly evaporating as the room adjusted to the new reality.

Almost as if they’d been expecting this very outcome.

The nurses took her away from the boy, loading her back on her gurney, and one of them handed her a cell phone as she was taken away. It was the Commander.

“Good work, Rei. My son will take things from here.”

Rei blinked. But I didn’t do anything.

Then, a few moments later, it hit her.

Commander Ikari has a son?


* * *


It was evening, as far as Shinji could tell. The landscape beyond the hospital window was bathed in twilight, disturbed by the relentless chattering of cicadas. His arms and legs felt cut off from his own body as if his limbs no longer belonged to him, and whenever he closed his eyes, he saw a green one looking back, the eye of his EVA, as if it had known he was inside of it and decided it no longer needed him.

The EVA is alive, he thought with faint horror. It doesn’t even need me to move. His thoughts raced around in circles, like little ants whose nest had just been kicked over. He squeezed his fists shut, opened them again, his skin cold and clammy in the humid remnants of the day’s heat. He had stumbled, fallen, frozen like the useless, frightened child that he was.

This is insane, he decided. There’s no way I can… He wrapped his arms around his sides, not knowing what to do with his hands, unable to shake the sense that he’d ended up in a trap of his own making. I can’t do this again. They’ve made a mistake, I can’t actually…I’m not going to be able to pilot it again! The thought of having to face Father again was sickening.

A door opened at the other end of the corridor, a crack in the silence. Then he saw her, out of the corner of his eye. It was that girl, the one his father had threatened to send out in his place, lying on the gurney being wheeled along. And if I back out now, she’ll have to fight again.

She was looking at him, a ghost in the evening light, blood-red eyes focused unmistakably on him. Then she disappeared into the darkness at the end of the corridor. Shinji closed his eyes, and let out his breath in one long shaky sigh, letting his arms hang loose at his sides.

Does she even care that I saved her? He shuffled back to his hospital room and collapsed on the bed, remembering how warm she had felt to the touch, the sticky feel of her blood on his hands, her sharp cries of pain as she shook in his arms.

Do I even care?


* * *


“The Third Child is leaving Tokyo-3 tomorrow. You do realise that’s going to leave Unit-01 as a giant paperweight, right?”

Dr Akagi’s words were muffled by the LCL, but Rei could just about hear her voice from within the dummy plug test tube. The LCL plant above them was a mess of pipes and cables, its knots and tangles reminding her of the wrinkled surface of a brain. She could hear the sound of the pumps whooshing over and over again, like the sighs of a giant as it breathed in its sleep.

“Katsuragi told me you didn’t even try to talk him out of it. He’s your son, couldn’t you have said something?”

If the Commander was bothered by Dr Akagi’s words in any way, Rei could not tell. His face was not visible, but from behind, his posture had not changed, his hands clasped behind his back, his voice inaudible. Dr Akagi tapped away at her tablet as she listened, her expression growing more and more concerned.

“I know, but I can’t guarantee we’ll have a viable dummy plug in time for the next angel attack.” She folded her arms and waited again, listening to more unheard words from the Commander, then her eyes widened in surprise.

“Rei in Unit-01? Don’t you think that’s risky?” Akagi glanced at Rei, then back to the Commander again, opened her mouth as if to argue, then hesitated as if thinking the better of it.

“Fine. We’ll need to begin the trials right away then. Starting with today’s test data, we can have a simulation body up and running by the end of the week…”

Rei closed her eyes and felt a heavy sense of unease settling in. So this was why they’d brought her down here. Ikari, you fought bravely against the enemy. You left and you returned. Why are you leaving again? The thumping sound of the LCL pumps beat in time to her thoughts.

She had endured many tests like this one in the run-up to the last activation experiment. Many, many times she had dreamed of disappearing, that she would survive the test of endurance that was her life by ceasing to live at all. Do you feel the same way, Ikari? Is that why you ran away?

“We’re going to run some preliminary tests. Rei, are you listening?” She opened her eyes, and waited for Dr Akagi’s instructions. The Commander was facing her too, now, the dim light making it impossible to see his eyes through his tinted glasses, but he smiled at her now, a small, half-hearted smile that she could not help but return, even as her skin prickled from the scanning.

The Commander would ensure that everything would turn out all right. Of that, she was certain. But Dr Akagi had said the Commander didn’t even try to speak to him. How could Ikari leave, knowing that something as wonderful as instrumentality is coming?

Then another thought occurred to her.

Does he know?

* * *


There was no mistaking it. Father was smiling. With Ayanami, of all people.

He wasn’t supposed to be using the Evangelion’s cameras this way, he knew. Zooming in this far, with the rest of the facility at normal magnification, gave him the dizzying sense that he was falling into them, falling towards Father and Ayanami, but unable to reach them. Father really was the kind of man who could smile. But only she had brought out that side to him.

It was incredible how much of a difference it made. Shinji had come to think of Father’s face as being like the top of a cliff; hard, cold and rough. But now his features bore none of the rigid tension that suggested a seething contempt below the surface. He looked like a different man, one who might have said how was school, Shinji or we can’t do this without you, Shinji or whatever else he was saying to Ayanami instead of him.

Did Ayanami just…giggle? She did. And she was smiling too, a small, eager smile. She, too, looked almost like a normal girl of his age from here, not the cold, distant machine who looked right through him rather than at him when she spoke. It seemed neither Father nor Ayanami cared about anything he did for their sake, only about each other.

Shinji slumped back in the throne of his entry plug, unable to look any more as he turned off the magnification. But that made it worse, somehow, because now his mind rushed to supply the looks on the faces of the two tiny figures across the chamber from him. Far below, the two tiny figures parted ways. Ayanami was alone now, her head bowed.

What is it about this girl that Father loves?


* * *


Ikari was still following her.

First, she’d found him in her apartment, trying to steal the Commander’s glasses. That had been bad enough. Today was the day of the reactivation experiment, and it would not do to be without her most prized possession. Then, after mumbling some nonsense about a key card, he had followed her to the train, and now he was fidgeting and sweating in the seat opposite her, unable to spit out whatever it was he had come to say.

She had a hot, prickly feeling in her chest, and a strange urge to snap at him that she could not explain. Ikari’s presence is bothering me. Why do I feel bothered by him? It didn’t make sense. She had her glasses back, safe and sound in their case. She should not be feeling bothered going into something as important as an activation test. This simply would not do.

“I…Ayanami, I’m so sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to…I rang your doorbell, and you didn’t answer, and I didn’t know you were in the shower, and…” Ikari gulped and clenched his right hand into a fist, uncurling it again, clenched, uncurled again. “I’m not the sort of guy who’d peep, and I…I didn’t mean to touch them, I fell, and my hand…I…I can’t believe that happened, I…”

Oh. Now she understood. He felt bad for touching her glasses, and was apologising. That was good, although she did not know why it was relevant that she had been naked.

“They are all I have of your father. Do not touch them again.” Her voice came out sounding more curt than she’d intended. What was the matter with her today?

Ikari stopped talking, looking surprised. His gaze dropped to the glasses case in her lap, then back to her. “Wait…those belonged to my father?” Now his expression changed, becoming more guarded. “Why do you even have those?”

That hot, prickly feeling from earlier was becoming worse. “Because they make me…” She stopped, unsure of how to word it. She had never had to explain it to anyone before. “They make me feel warm inside.”

Ikari’s face was stern. “I see,” he muttered. Rei put the glasses case away in her pocket. She was in no mind to share.

“If you want to feel warm too, get your own glasses.” That should put an end to this.

But that had been the wrong thing to say. Ikari’s eyes narrowed, and his shoulders hunched as he balled his fists, suddenly animated with an energy she never usually saw in him.

“Why would I want something from a terrible person like him?”

That did it. It was as though some invisible force had caught her by the heart and squeezed. She stood up and looked Ikari square in the eye, her teeth clenched, her face growing hot as the defiant expression on his face melted away under her gaze.

“Now arriving at Geofront Terminal A. All passengers, please disembark. This is the end of the line.”

Ikari stood up, mumbling some half-hearted apology, and before she knew it, she had struck him hard across the cheek. He yelped and shrank away from her, one hand gingerly holding his face, his eyes wide and darting around. She stared at him for a moment, then looked down at her hand, which stung a little. Why did I do that?

The doors opened, and Rei turned on her heels and marched away, feeling very peculiar. It felt very satisfying to strike Ikari, and yet somehow very inappropriate. Still, his outburst continued to bother her, for reasons unknown to her.

How could he think that about his own father?


* * *


The last thing he could remember was the LCL boiling around him as he screamed for Father, for Misato, for anyone at all to get him out of there. Now, aside from the phantom pain in his chest, he was alone, in the same hospital as before, with the same pale evening light shining in through the windows. Then a rustle of movement to his left caught his eye, and he turned to look, seeing an unexpected but familiar figure there.

“Tomorrow, at 0000 hours, Operation Yashima will begin. Pilots Ikari and Ayanami will assemble at the cage at 17:30 today…”

Shinji’s heart sank as she carried on. Well, now I know why she’s here. Ayanami clearly wasn’t here because she was worried about him. No one was particularly concerned when he got hurt, when he ran away from home, when he returned, when he went out to fight again.

Ayanami had finished speaking. She grabbed the food tray and shoved it at him, looking at him and waiting. He stared at the tray. The last thing he felt like doing was eating. He could see the beam heading right for him again, feel the blistering agony of being boiled alive. “Do I really have to fight it again?”, he asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

“Yes. You do.” Her blood-red gaze regarded him without a hint of expression. Shinji felt a cold, bitter surge of despair welling up in him like bile.

“Someone like you wouldn’t understand…” He suppressed a shudder, struggling not to feel small and insignificant. “You’ve never come as close to death as I have. No one else has…they just keep sending me out again and again as if it doesn’t even matter if I die.”

“You won’t die.” She wasn’t even looking at him now. “Because I’ll protect you.”

He could only shake his head in disbelief. To his shame, he felt tears burning behind his eyes. “Then you might die instead. Doesn’t that matter to you at all?” He was shaking again. How pathetic he must seem.

Ayanami’s expression shifted ever so slightly. “It does not matter.”

Something about the resigned way she said it finally snapped him. “Is that the kind of person Father loves? Someone who will throw their life away as if it’s nothing? Why would you fight for someone like that?”

It was hard to tell, but there was something about the way she stood now that made him wonder if his words had finally reached her. She had slumped a little, her head bowed.

“What do you mean, the kind of person he loves?” she asked.

There was something startling about seeing her speak plainly, something he hadn’t thought she was capable of, and seeing it at last made him feel like he’d overstepped a line. This time, he was the one who looked away.

“You said…you felt warm around him. I bet he feels that way around you, too…”

She was paying him her full attention now, and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He was talking too much, and now he felt like he was imposing on her. “I don’t think there’s anyone who…uh…you know…”

Rei was very quiet and very still, and did not answer him for a long time. When she spoke again, it was in a quiet, heavy voice.

“Is that why you are afraid to fight?”

He didn’t know why, but her words felt like an accusation. “I just…I don’t think anyone cares if I get hurt or not…” Even to his own ears, his protests sounded petulant all of a sudden, his anger spent and now leaving him feeling small and unworthy.

She regarded him with a distant expression on her face, one that he found hard to read. It wasn’t anger, or pity, or anything he could identify. Something like resignation, perhaps.

“Then stay. I will fight in Unit-01 on your behalf.”

He blinked dumbly at her, the significance of her words taking a moment to sink in. “Wait…Ayanami, I didn’t mean that you had to… “

She wasn’t listening, already halfway out of the door of his room, which hissed shut behind her. The clock on the wall was ticking. It was nearly five. He took one last reluctant look down at the meal tray on his lap, then forced himself to eat the dry beans and greasy egg. He could see Ayanami in his mind’s eye, hauling herself off that stretcher on his very first day, shaking, coughing up blood.

I’ll protect you, she had said.

But who’s going to protect her?


* * *


The lights dimmed across the countryside, winking out in patches until only the moon and stars were left to illuminate the world in silver. Rei tightened her grip on her glasses case, her body filled with a curious tension that would not go away. Far in the distance, she could just barely make out the rigid angular shape of the enemy. Depending on how the operation went, she would likely experience her second death in just a few minutes.

Ikari was looking at her. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap, and something about the way he kept glancing at her and opening his mouth to speak made her wonder if he needed to tell her something. But he didn’t quite seem to have the courage to say whatever was on his mind, and kept hesitating. His words from earlier were still fresh in her mind, and now she thought she knew what he might be thinking.

I bet he feels that way around you too, he had said. I don’t think there’s anyone who…

What did Ikari mean by those words? She had always assumed he must have an important role to play in the Commander’s plans. You are the vessel for our hopes. The Commander’s words had sustained through many difficult times since then. Rei wondered would it be like if she were not the vessel for anyone’s hopes. Would she still have found the strength to keep on living?

She closed her eyes and imagined it was Ikari there by the Commander’s side on the promised day, that she had been left alone with no sacrifice to make and nothing to endure. Humanity would not need her. The Commander would not need her. The very thought made her feel exhausted. She did not know if she could have kept going if Ikari had been the favoured one over her.

“Ayanami…” She opened her eyes again, and turned her head at the sound of Ikari’s voice as he spoke at last. “I wish…I was as brave as you are.” His head was hung low, staring down at his hands. “I was wondering how…how do you do it? How do you keep going?”

Rei looked at him properly now, at his small, hunched frame, dwarfed by the massive shape of Unit-01 beside him. His words were a real conundrum for her. How could she, a girl who could not stay dead, possibly tell a boy who feared death how to be brave?

“Why are you asking me?”

Ikari was silent for a moment, his hands clenching into fists and loosening again in a way that she found hard to look away from. Fist clenched, then loose. Fingers open, then coiled. She thought of Ikari screaming for his father when the angel had attacked, and how little the Commander had said to him, and thought of the words unspoken between them.

“I’m not brave,” she said. Ikari had stopped clenching his fists. She closed her eyes, feeling very weary. “I have nothing else but the EVA. It is all that connects me to others.”

“What do you mean, you have nothing else?” Ikari sounded surprised. “If you stay alive, you’ll get to see Father again, won’t you? That’s more than I have. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

Ikari does not know about the promised day.

She had suspected as much, but now she knew for certain. Was there a reason the Commander had not told him? The thought made her feel rather strange. It is not good that Ikari should suffer like this. Someone should have told him. It couldn’t be her place to tell him, however. It couldn’t be her place to tell him, however. The Commander had told her it was vital she keep it secret.

“It doesn’t matter if I die. Because I will be replaced, again and again.”

A beeping from her suit alarm cut through the stillness of the night. She opened her eyes. It was time. The platform beneath her began to rise to Unit-00’s entry plug, the hatch open and ready. Ikari jumped to his feet, an alarmed look on his face as his own platform began to rise.

“Wait, Ayanami! What are you saying…?”

She took one last look at him, before a sudden wave of unease hit her, spreading through her chest and stomach. But the sight of the enemy in the distance focused her mind. Even if she had said too much, it would not matter for long. That was a problem for the next Rei.

“Farewell, Ikari.”


* * *


“Beginning countdown.” Ibuki’s voice over the radio.

Ayanami wouldn’t flinch. She wouldn’t be scared.

“Ten…nine…”

But…how could someone so sad be so brave…?

“Eight…seven…

What did she mean about being replaced, again and again?

“Eight…seven…

No, it’s like she said. She’s not brave, she just…

“Six…five…”

She doesn’t even care if she lives or dies

“Five…four… High energy reaction detected in the target!”

All thought ceased as he saw a menacing gleam of light from the angel, and a hot flash of panic seized him, his fingers gripping the trigger, and without thinking, he squeezed.

“Shinji, no! Wait - “

The night was torn asunder by the white-blue plasma from the rifle, cracking the air apart like a giant’s hammer, warping around the answering bolt of purple-plasma from the enemy. The impact threw him back as the blast of heat and light threw all Unit-01’s sensors into a frenzy of static, and he screamed, a childish, frantic scream, and then the entry plug was filled with the crimson light of the fire outside him, the ruins of the fortifications scattered everywhere.

What the hell have I done? What was I thinking? The world seemed to roll around him as he frantically lurched back to his feet, unable to tell where his body ended and Unit-01’s began.

“Shinji! Do you read me? We’re charging the rifle! Get back into position!”

The enemy’s beam came shrieking towards him once again, his mind emptying in terror, and Ayanami was there, her EVA and its shield taking the full brunt of the blast, and even as he looked he could see the shield melting, trickling away as the rifle slowly charged and then the last of the shield disintegrated.

Ayanami! He could barely hear the sound of someone screaming over the volcanic roar of the energy blast. He prayed that it was his own voice he was hearing. Unit-00’s silhouette was just barely visible against the hellish light of the enemy blast. She’s going to die!

100% charged. He fired, and with an iron act of will he remained still, until he saw the angel’s crystalline form tilting drunkenly to one side, then collapsing with a burst of flame from its side. Ahead of him, Unit-00 slumped on its side, twitching, its armor glowing red-hot and semi-molten.

No. Not because of me. The weight of his failure felt as though it would break his spine. Please don’t let her die because of me. The terror from moments before had gone cold and heavy in his stomach as he dragged Unit-00 to a standing position and plunged his progressive knife into its back, gouging at the flesh until the entry plug popped free at last.

Gingerly, he set it down on the ground, and yanked the emergency release valve, the breath slammed out of his lungs as Unit-01’s entry plug ejected with a screech of rocket-fire and landed with a crash. The world around him was black with ash and soot, the soles of his suit slipping as he raced towards her entry plug, her last words haunting him.

It doesn’t matter if I die.

The handles burned his palms as he strained with the door, the pain almost as bad as the guilt he now bore. She lay utterly still before him, grey and lifeless. His chest locked up with fear, unable to tell if she was still breathing.

“Ayanami! Are you all right? Ayanami!”




* * *



We’re going to run some preliminary tests. Rei, are you listening?

Commander Ikari. A little smile, like he was afraid. No, something else.

Why would I want something from a terrible person like him?

Ikari. The other Ikari. Angry? At his father, who smiles? No, something else.

Why must there always be another Rei? Why must I live on in place of her?

This was me speaking. Why did I say that? Was I sad? Disappointed? Something else?

Are these…someone else’s thoughts? Who is it? Is there someone else in here, besides me?

No, this is me. I am in pain. I didn’t think death would hurt. Is this death? Or something else?

Rei! Are you all right? Rei!

No. I’m…alive?

But why?


* * *


“Ayanami? Are you all right? Ayanami!”

Every centimetre of her skin was searing in hot, itching pain, and her head hurt so much it felt as if it was about to burst. She could just about make out the shape of a familiar figure standing in the hatch, his blurry form illuminated by the moonlight, calling for her.

“Commander Ikari…?”

But he does not call me Ayanami. The other Ikari…?

Her throat would not work, and she winced and forced her eyes open. It was indeed the other Ikari. His eyes were wet, his hands shaking, and he let out a groan of relief, his frightened expression now turning to something between joy and grief.

“Don’t say…” He swallowed his words as his composure began to crumble. “Don’t say…that it doesn’t matter if you die…that you have nothing else…”

She lifted her head, ignoring the pain, fascinated as his eyes began to brim with tears. Something she had never seen before, because Commander Ikari did not cry, and Nerv personnel were stoic in the face of danger, and Dr Akagi was always in control. Rei simply did not know that many people to begin with. And none of them had ever acted as Ikari did now.

“Don’t say you have nothing else. It’s just…it’s just too sad!”

With that, tears began to stream down his face, and his shoulders began to shake with ragged sobs. He turned his face away, as if embarrassed, his eyes now hidden in shadow, but she could see the tracks each tear cut through the LCL still stuck to his skin.

Then it hit her. It’s me? He’s crying over me?

The thought was bewildering. She leaned towards him, trying to get a better look at what was happening in front of her. Sobbing was such an ugly, broken sound, and Ikari was in genuine distress, his chest heaving as he gasped through his misery.

“Was it because of what I said?” she asked, now feeling an awful sense of responsibility for what was happening to Ikari. “Before the battle?”

He gave no response. Seeing him in such distress was stirring something in Rei she had never felt before, a cold, painful sense of sympathy that she had no idea what to do with. Dr Akagi’s training had never prepared her for such an unusual situation.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, for want of something else to say. “I’ve never seen someone cry before.” Somehow it sounded like an excuse. “I don’t know what kind of expression I should make in a situation like this.”

Then Ikari raised his head. He was smiling, a tender, familiar expression, one she had seen only once before on the face of the Commander, as a soft flutter of warmth tickled her heart. She felt her face shift, muscles she rarely if ever used aching, and she realised she was smiling too. It felt…right. Soothing, somehow.

“Ayanami, let’s go home.” He reached out his hand, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw the palm of his hand was burned right through his plug suit. He had forced the entry plug hatch open with his hands. His grip was firm but gentle, and together they stumbled out of the entry plug into a world she had never expected to see again.

The landscape around her was scorched black, silver-lit by the moonlight and slippery underfoot, the earth still warm from the heat of battle, the air pleasantly cool on her skin. Far in the distance, she could hear the sound of a helicopter approaching. She was dizzy, and unsteady on her feet, and Ikari caught her as she wobbled, his hands on her back and waist.

She looked up, Ikari’s face near hers, his breath warm on her cheeks. “Um…we can just rest,” he mumbled, “if you can’t walk…uh, you don’t mind if I hold you like this? Can you stand?”

His words barely registered. Her heart was racing, and the tickle of warmth she had felt before was now a hot flutter, a pleasant but alien sensation that crowded out everything else. She swallowed, nothing coming to mind but pure feeling of a kind she did not know.

What is this? It feels like when the Commander held me.

Ikari limped along beside her, letting her rest the weight of her body against him, his face now pinched with anxiety, mumbling reassurances that seemed as much to calm himself down as her, the sound of the approaching helicopter getting steadily louder.

I was supposed to die. It occurred to her now just how absurd it was to be feeling anything at all. Ikari saved me. But why?

Now the helicopter was upon them, a hurricane of ash scattered all around them by the downdraft, and she flinched under the harsh floodlights as it touched down. The door slid open, and as four masked figures hurried towards her with a stretcher, she felt the warmth vanish, replaced by a cold sense of anticipation.

Gloved hands grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her onto the stretcher, and an oxygen mask was shoved onto her face. And then Ikari was calling for her, calling her name again, and she turned and saw him, saw Captain Katsuragi now by his side, holding him back, and deep in her chest she felt that bloom of warmth once again.

The door slammed shut, and as the medics began to remove her plug suit, she realised she had been wrong about Ikari. He does care. Why, she could not imagine. She closed her eyes and let the medics work, and as her consciousness began to fade, she thought of what Ikari might look like when he was older, what he would have looked like if the promised day was not coming.

Ikari…he would look like the Commander…wouldn’t he…?