July 7, 2046

Asuka winced as she heard the same drum beats for the 43rd time in a row. "I've had enough of this," she said.
Shinji held out a hand, pleading for patience. "Asuka, wait--" he began.
"Shut up," she said. She strode into their storeroom, filled to the brim with musical equipment. She spied the girl behind her drums, and noted that her hands were covered with blood. She grabbed the girl's arm. "What's this?" she demanded.
Ryuko tugged at her hand. "It's not right yet," she said.
"Eh?" Asuka asked.
"The sound," Ryuko explained. "It's not right yet."
"I don't care," Asuka said. "You're done for the night."
"Mother, please--" the girl began.
"Please what? I said you're done. You can play games or something instead, but no more of this."
Ryuko mewled in frustration. "Mom, you're so annoying! It's not right--"
"You've finished composing it, yes?" Asuka said.
"Yes, but--" Ryuko began.
"Then you're done. All that's left now is practice, and you can do that tomorrow after your hands have recovered."
Ryuko fidgeted. "But--"
Asuka tightened her grip on the girl's arm. "But what?" she asked.
"Ow!" Ryuko wailed. "Mama, you're hurting me!"
Asuka's grip slackened, but only a bit. "You're hurting yourself, and I won't have it!"
"Let me go!" Ryuko wailed. She tugged at her arm, and Asuka released her. She rubbed her wrist, glaring at her mother. "You suck!" she said. She stomped off to her room, powering up her Dios console in a huff as her mother looked on.

July 8, 2046

Ryuko crossed the threshold to her home, closing the door behind her. "I'm home," she mumbled.
Asuka, standing before the kitchen counter, turned around, crossing her arms as she did so. She took in her daughter's appearance: helmet, elbow and knee pads, fresh scrapes on her forearms and legs, nothing too serious. "And where have you been?" she asked.
Ryuko removed her helmet, then started on the rest of her gear. "At the skate park."
Asuka quirked an eyebrow. "For ten hours?"
Ryuko shrugged.
"I would have thought you'd be practicing," Asuka said.
"Yeah, well . . . " the girl said.
"You seemed keen on it last night," Asuka noted. "What changed?"
Ryuko frowned. "I dunno. I guess I just wanted to think about it a bit."
Asuka tapped her chin. "And so you decided to skate for ten hours."
"So what?" Ryuko said, glaring at her mother. "What's wrong with that?"
Asuka held up a hand. "Nothing, nothing at all. It's just interesting, that's all."
Ryuko picked up her gear. "Whatever. I'm going to my room."
"No," Asuka said. She indicated a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit."
"Why?" the girl asked. "I didn't do anything--"
"You're not in trouble," Asuka said. "I just need to talk to you for a bit."
Ryuko glowered at her, but did as she was told.
Once the girl was seated Asuka crossed her arms again. "When you went to regionals last year . . . did you enjoy it?"
Ryuko blinked. "Huh?"
"Was the question unclear?" Asuka asked mildly.
"No, I just . . . " Ryuko shook herself. "I dunno. It was fine, I guess."
"Hmmm," Asuka said.
Ryuko frowned, thinking. "I liked playing on stage. It was fun to connect with people, to have them enjoy my music." Her expression darkened. "Except for that one judge. I can't believe he said that about me!"
Asuka waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind him, he's an idiot. What else?"
Ryuko sighed. "Apart from actually playing . . . I guess I didn't like it much. Everyone was stressed, and critical and stuff, and it wasn't very fun."
Asuka nodded. "Would you want to do it again?"
"Not really," Ryuko said, shaking her head. "I'd rather perform at a club, or at school or something. Some place where people aren't busy competing with each other, and are just there to have a good time."
"Is that all?" Asuka asked.
Ryuko cocked her head. "What do you mean?"
"Is that all you want?" Asuka pressed.
"I . . . " The girl fidgeted. "I guess so. I mean, yeah, that's all I want."
Asuka was silent for a moment. Then she said, "your father got a call a few days ago. It seems an instructor from a music conservatory in Kyoto saw your performance, and wants to invite you to his school. Your father agreed to meet with him. When I learned of this I called him an idiot, and informed him that I would be meeting with the man instead."
Ryuko gulped. "Why is that?" she asked.
"Because your father's soft when it comes to you," Asuka replied. "When he hears flowery words of praise he might give in and make decisions that aren't necessarily in your best interest. I don't have that problem." Her eyes narrowed. "But I'm not quite sure what your best interests are just yet, which is why I'm talking to you now."
Ryuko stared at the floor, recognizing the gravity of the situation. "Okay," she said.
"Do you love music?" her mother asked.
Ryuko nodded. "Of course!"
"Would you give up skateboarding for it? Or jujutsu?"
Ryuko frowned. "Why would I have to--"
"The conservatories don't care about how talented you are," her mother explained. "Whether you're mediocre or gifted, they will push you to your absolute limits to bring out your full potential. And in your case, that potential is considerable."
"What do you mean?" Ryuko asked.
"You are extraordinary, Ryuko," her mother said. "You do things casually that most people only master with a lifetime of experience. With the proper training you could become a true legend, someone who could change the way music is made and experienced around the world. But you would have to commit to it totally to make that happen; the casual way you're approaching it now won't get you anywhere."
"But I don't want to get anywhere!" Ryuko said. She folded her hands behind her neck, resting her elbows on the table. "I just want to play. That's all I want. I just want to play."
"You don't want fame?" her mother pressed, "or recognition? You could be the next Charlie Parker, you know."
Ryuko glanced up at her mother. "Charlie Parker practiced for 15 hours a day and died of a heroin overdose when he was in his 30s. I don't want that. I just want to make music. I just want to play."
Asuka was not yet convinced. "You could learn a lot at a music school, you know. They have all sorts of workshops for composing and improvisation and such, and you could meet people and make connections. It could be a great experience--"
"I don't want to go to a music school!" Ryuko yelled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them she said, "I make connections at school and at clubs. I learn from other people. I don't need a school for that, and I don't want to go somewhere that will make playing miserable for me. I don't care if I'm great; as long as I'm having fun that's good enough for me."
"Is that really what you want?" Asuka asked. "Are you certain? You'd be giving up an awful lot. This is a big deal, Ryuko. Think carefully before you answer."
Ryuko reeled at that. "That's unfair, mom. How am I supposed to answer that?"
Asuka shrugged. "The offer came, and I'm describing it to you as best I can. Yes, it's unfair, but it is what it is. What do you want to do?"
Ryuko closed her eyes, thinking hard. Then she opened them and met her mother's gaze. "I don't want to go to a music school," she said. "I'm not sure what I want to do with my life, but I'm certain I don't want that."
Asuka looked at her daughter for a long moment, then shrugged. "Fine," she said. "I'll tell the guy to fuck off, then."
Ryuko breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, mom." She scratched her cheek. "You know, I don't get you. Sometimes you're really cool like this, and others you're a total bitch. What's up with that?"
Asuka reared back in surprise, then glared at her daughter. "Be glad you get bits of nice on occasion," she grumbled. "Ask your father what it's like when I'm mean 24/7. You don't know how lucky you are."
Ryuko scrutinized her mother, her chin in her hand. "Sure I do," she said. "You love me more than anything, and you love dad just as much. But that doesn't stop you from treating us both like dogshit on occasion."
Asuka crossed her arms defensively. "Shut up, you idiot! I'm doing the best I can. I--"
"Bullshit!" Ryuko said. "'The best you can,' you say? Whatever. Today you were fine. I felt like you were an actual parent for a change, and that was nice. But last night? Fuck that noise. Back in the day I guess you could get away with it, since things were really rough for you back then. But now, not so much. We deserve better, father and I, and so do you!"
Asuka just stared at her daughter, her mouth hanging open. "You little brat," she whispered. "Not even your father talks to me that way."
"Tch," Ryuko spat. "He calls you out on your bullshit all the time. Misato does, too. I'm not an idiot, mom; I see what's going on around me. How the hell would I have the nerve to speak up otherwise?"
Asuka blinked and was silent for a moment, before she erupted into laughter. This went on for several seconds, after which she circled the table and wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "You stupid little brat!" she said, grinding a knuckle into Ryuko's head. "I'm glad to see you take after your father in ways other than musical talent!"
"Cut it out, mom!" Ryuko said, struggling against both the hug and the knuckle. "Jeez, you're embarrassing me!"
Asuka just laughed at the girl, holding her fast and kissing her cheek. "I'm proud of you, little girl. I truly am."
"You're missing the point!" Ryuko wailed, enduring the rough treatment as best she could. "Gah! Where is dad when I need him?"

July 9, 2046

Asuka looked up at the knock on her door. "Come in," she said.
A man entered, an older, pudgy sort, radiating an aura of entitlement. She quickly recognized him as an individual who was used to getting what he wanted. "Good afternoon, Ms. Soryu," he said.
"Hello," she replied, standing to greet him. She bowed before him, then said, "I made tea. Would you like some?"
"Yes, that would be lovely," he said. He sat, and she poured him some tea.
"You're here to discuss my daughter, yes?" she asked.
He took a sip of her tea, then nodded pleasantly. "Indeed. She is quite talented, as I'm sure you know, and it would be my privilege to give her a venue to express her abilities to the fullest. I think you'll find my conservatory has no equal in that regard."
Asuka nodded. "Well, obviously," she said, sitting down. "I'm not an idiot, after all. Your programs on foreign music trends and improvisation workshops are right up her alley. I said as much to Ryuko when I tried to convince her to attend your school."
"Ah," he said. "I take it she is reluctant, then?"
Asuka shrugged. "She's stubborn. I asked her directly last night, and she made her position very clear."
He frowned. "That is often the case with children," he said. "They need to be pushed to find the limits of their potential. Surely you realize this?"
She smiled thinly. "Mister Director, do you know who I am?"
He balked. "Of course, Lady Soryu. I think everyone does."
"Tch," she said. "Because of that rat Aida, no doubt."
He shrugged, a useless gesture.
"Do you know what I was doing when I was my daughter's age?" she asked.
He shifted uncomfortably. "You were fighting the Angels, on behalf of all of humanity," he said.
"No," she said, a wry grin playing about her lips, "not quite. On the day of Third Impact I was medically sedated, having tried to slit my wrists days prior. This because I had been drummed out of Nerv's service, having been deemed no longer useful by the powers that be."
He gulped. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"
"No," she said, "of course you wouldn't. But anyway, later that morning the love of my life used me as a masturbation aide." She met his gaze directly. "Like I said, I was sedated at the time, so it's not like I had a say in the matter. Later I woke up, only to find the JSSDF was pelting my Eva with depth charges, and then I had to fight and kill other people if I wanted to survive. After that I was torn to pieces by other Evas. Quite the morning, no?"
He looked around, unsure how to react.
"But it got worse from there," she said. "Later on that same love of my life strangled me to death."
He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut, staring at her in confusion.
She shrugged. "What can I say?" she said. "It was a very bad day. But my point is, that day is the source of my fame. That is why you know my name. But for me, it is a day steeped in horror and misery, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. Do you understand what I am saying?"
He closed his eyes, releasing a breath. "With all due respect, Lady Soryu -- and I assure you, that respect is considerable -- I am not asking your daughter to endure anything close to the hardships you have experienced. I merely hope that my instructors can help her realize her full potential. That is worthwhile, is it not? Not just for the sake of music as an art form, but for her own sake as well?"
She shrugged. "If I thought it would make her happy in the long run I'd force her hand, but I'm not convinced it will. She seems happy enough to play at school and at local clubs and such, and she learns from other musicians; she has no interest in becoming an icon. I don't understand her mindset at all; I've always wanted fame and recognition, and the fact she doesn't seem to care about those things is really weird to me. But she knows what she wants, and it's obvious she has different goals in mind."
He ran a hand over his face. "Lady Soryu, please, I beg you to reconsider. This girl, this woman . . . her potential is staggering. A talent such as hers comes along but once in a generation! Letting her squander that talent would be a crime against humanity!"
Asuka frowned. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" she asked. "I already know all of that. But as I said, I am her mother. Her happiness is my top priority. If she doesn't want to be a legend she doesn't, and that's all there is to it. The decision is hers to make, not mine, and certainly not yours. If humanity loses out in the process, too damn bad."
The man sighed. "She will regret her decision." He looked her in the eye. "As will you."
She shrugged. "Maybe," she admitted. "But better that than making her life a living hell for no good reason."
He stood, turning to leave, then turned back to her. "Thank you for the tea," he said. "It was excellent."
She nodded, and he left her office. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Ryuko," she said, "I hope you know what you're doing."

August 12, 2046

The girl awoke when she heard a shout from the room next door. Ryuko Ikari Soryu sighed, then dragged her pillow over her head. "Jeez, mom," she said. "Give it a rest." She looked at the clock sitting beside her futon: 6:18 a.m. She blew out a breath, then dragged herself out of bed and started getting dressed. When she finished she grabbed her drumsticks and headed out the door.
As she passed her parents' room, she spied her mother and father through the open door. He held her close, and she looked very small, clutching at him in the wake of her nightmare. Ryuko sighed again. She caught her father's eye, then pointed toward the front door. He nodded, and she made her way there. She grabbed her skateboard and left the building.
Once she hit the sidewalk she hopped on her skateboard, picking up speed as she headed for school. She thought about the drum solo she planned to practice today, hoping the other band members wouldn't be too boring to let her cut loose. But at least with a drum kit she could cut loose. With a violin or a cello it was out of the question. "Fucking heathens," she said. "My dad's the only one who gets it. I'm probably the only kid in Japan who can say that."
She crested a hill and really began to pour on the speed, passing pedestrians left and right as she did so. They cursed at her, but she paid them no mind -- she wanted to fly, and to hell with anyone who didn't get that! The hill bottomed out and she started to slow down, coming into a more populated area, but she was too late -- a man came out of a store right as she passed in front of it. Her eyes widened as she realized avoiding him was impossible, and she spread herself wide to limit the damage. But even so she plowed into him at full speed, sending both of them flying.
She landed hard. "Ow!" she said. "Owowowow!" She picked herself up from the ground, taking stock of the damage. Her head was alright, as were her elbows and knees -- she'd have to thank Misato once again for the protective gear -- but she had a nasty scrape along her forearm. Ah well; she'd had worse. But the other guy . . .
"Hey," she said. "Are you alright?" She took off her helmet, then scooted over to get a closer look at him. Her breath caught: Shoulder length frosted hair, light brown skin, strong cheekbones, soft brown eyes. She blinked, then shook herself. "Shit," she muttered. "Shitshitshit. Mom is gonna kill me . . . "
He groaned as he sat up. "Fuckin' A," he said. "What the hell is wrong with you, you lunatic? I feel like I just got hit by a truck."
She cringed. "Sorry!" she said. "I'm really sorry! I caught some speed and I got carried away and I didn't see you . . . " She broke off. "Should I call an ambulance?" she asked.
"I don't need a fuckin' ambulance," he said. He stood up, wobbling a bit as he did so. "You're lucky I can take a hit, man. What if I was an old lady or a kid or something? You could have killed me!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, nodding emphatically as he lectured her. "You're right," she said. "I'm really sorry, you're right, you're right."
Her ready acceptance of blame cooled his anger a bit. "Fuck, that hurt," he said.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Just be more careful next time. I mean, damn . . . "
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," she said. "Then, um . . . I'll get going, I guess." She retrieved her skateboard, then checked her pockets. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, shit," she said. "Where are my sticks?"
"Huh?" he asked. "Sticks?"
"Yeah, my drumsticks. They were in my back pocket . . . " She looked around, spotting them halfway down the block. "There they are!" She hurried to retrieve them. She looked back one last time and then started walking in the direction of her school, opting to carry the board for the time being.
He looked after her, watching her for a moment. Then, with a muttered curse, he hurried to catch up to her. "Hey," he said.
She shot him a nervous look.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It just took me by surprise, that's all. But I'm not hurt, so I don't need to be a jerk about it."
"Okay," she said. "Thanks."
"You really should be more careful, though."
She flushed. "Right," she said.
They walked in silence for a few moments. "So, you play the drums?" he asked
"Yeah," she said. "I'm on my way to school to practice with my band."
"Eh?" he asked. "But we're on summer break. Why are you going to school?"
"We have a key to the music room," she explained. "So we meet up there to practice. It's easier than trying to arrange locations every time, you know?"
He nodded. "I guess that makes sense," he said. He thought for a moment, then grinned. "Are you any good?"
She laughed nervously. "Well, I guess that depends on who you ask. When I was at nationals last year the crowd went apeshit over my playing, but one of the judges called my performance an offense to music itself." She scratched her head self-consciously. "That was with the violin, though; I don't compete with the drums."
"Oh wow," he said. "So you play two instruments? That's impressive."
She shrugged. "The drums are just for fun," she explained. "I do bass and keyboards too, but I only compete with violin, cello and piano." She frowned. "I also play the flute, but I have nothing to do with it. We don't use it in the band and I don't feel like competing with it, so it's kind of a useless skill."
He shook his head. "Jeez, man," he said. "You sound like some kind of musical prodigy or something."
She grinned. "Yup! And I skateboard and I kick ass at gaming and I write poetry, too. I'm kinda awesome!"
He laughed. "And so humble!" he said.
She crossed her arms, sticking out her chin. "False modesty is condescending to others," she said. "It's better to recognize others' virtues than to downplay your own. That way you can help them out and still get the credit you deserve!"
He glanced at her sidelong. "You must be a foreigner," he said, a touch of disdain in his voice. "No Japanese would ever think like that."
She laughed. "What can I say?" she said. "I'm not a conventional girl."
He looked her up and down. It was a fair assessment: half her head was shaved to stubble, while the other half had shoulder length dark hair dyed a deep lavender at the ends. She had a barbell in her upper ear, a stud in her nostril, and another barbell in her tongue. She wore a tight t-shirt full of holes, raggedy jeans, and a pair of Vans on her feet, all stretched over a wiry athletic frame. She was striking, to be sure, but by no means conventional. He sighed. "Yeah, I can see your point," he said. "But even so, you don't look Japanese."
"Ha!" she said. "Yeah, that's true. My mom is American, actually, so that's why." She frowned. "Though it's weird; she was born here, but then grew up in Germany, and her mother was German/Japanese, and I'm pretty sure she's never even been to America. But her dad was American, so . . . " She shrugged. "Eh, whatever. Anyway, she's crazy smart and went through some heavy shit as a kid, so she kind of has a 'fuck you!' attitude to most anything that gets in her way. I guess she passed that on to me, but I don't have her baggage so I'm a little more constructive about it."
"Heh." He nodded. "That does explain a few things."
"Yeah," she said. Her eyes widened. "Oh!" she said, fishing out her phone. "I almost forgot. Can I get your contact info?"
He blinked. "Huh?" he asked. "Why would you need that?"
"Duh," she said, grinning. "You're kinda hot. I might wanna ask you out or something."
He laughed at her. "Are you for real?" he asked. "You just ran into me."
She frowned. "Well, yes . . . "
"With a skateboard. You ran into me with a skateboard!"
"I said I was sorry . . . " she mumbled.
"And now you're asking me out?" he continued, incredulous.
"Is that a 'no', then?" she asked.
"Well . . . " he paused. He looked her up and down again, then shook his head and laughed. "You're something else," he said. He looked her in the eye. "What if I have a girlfriend or something?" he asked, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
Her eyes widened, and she looked stricken. "Then I'd be sad," she said. She looked away, then met his gaze again. "Um, do you?"
He looked at her, then laughed. "Not at the moment," he admitted.
She grinned. "Great!" she said. She held her phone before her, looking at him expectantly.
He stared at her for a moment, then laughed despite himself. "Fine," he said. "Why not?"
They exchanged data. When they finished, Ryuko smiled happily. "Thanks!" she said.
"Sure." He looked at his phone's screen, then frowned. "Wait," he said.
"Soryu? As in Asuka Langley Soryu?"
She nodded proudly. "Yup! She's my mom."
"Ah," he said. He coughed nervously.
She cocked her head. "Problem?" she asked.
"Not exactly," he said. "It's just that . . . well, my grandfather was Katsuhiro Nakamura. He was the commander of the JSSDF's 4th Division."
She frowned. "Oh." She sighed. "Well, I can see how that might make you a bit nervous, but most of the people my mom has met from the 4th have been pretty chill. She let all that shit go a long time ago, so unless you have a grudge or something it shouldn't be a problem."
He shook his head. "No grudge here," he said. He grinned. "That's a relief," he said. "I was nervous for a minute there."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?" she asked.
He laughed. "Well, you're also kinda hot," he said.
She laughed in delight, blushing at the jab. They reached the street corner, and he turned right. "I'm going this way," he said.
She nodded. "Okay," she said. "See ya, Kenji! I'll call you Friday!"
"Sure," he said.
She took off, letting out a whoop of joy as she did so. He could only shake his head and laugh as he continued on his way.

Ryuko crossed the threshold to her apartment. "I'm home!" she said.
"Welcome home," Asuka said. She caught sight of her daughter's forearm, and her eyes snapped to hers. "And what the hell happened to you?" she asked.
Ryuko laughed self-consciously. "Um, I ran into someone on the way to school." She fidgeted. "Like, literally."
Asuka closed her eyes. "Christ, Ryuko." She sighed, then asked, "Are you alright?"
Ryuko nodded. "Yes," she said. "And before you ask, so is he."
"Are you sure?" Asuka asked.
Ryuko nodded emphatically. "Yes!" she said. "You can ask him yourself come Friday."
"Do I even want to know?" Asuka asked.
Ryuko laughed. "I kinda asked him out."
"Of course you did," Asuka said, sighing.
"Wait," Shinji asked. "You hit him with a skateboard, and then . . . asked him out?"
" . . . Yes?" Ryuko said. She laughed self-consciously. "I think he was so surprised by my audacity that it didn't occur to him to say no."
"Well, you have no shortage of that," Asuka muttered. "Unbelievable." She glared at Shinji in accusation.
"What?" he said. "I think that's cool."
She made grasping motions with her hands. "You're Japanese," she said. "How can you possibly think that's cool? It doesn't make sense!"
"I live with you," he said. "How could I not think it's cool?"
She flushed, then sighed. "Even so," she said, "she has enough of an attitude problem as it is. You shouldn't encourage her."
Ryuko grinned. "My attitude is awesome," she said. She turned toward Shinji. "Thanks, Dad. High five!" Shinji chuckled and indulged her. "I'm gonna go play some vidya," she said. "Don't lose your shit while I'm gone." She wandered off to her room, leaving her parents irritated and bemused in her stead.
"I'm going to go do . . . something," Asuka said. "Something to make me less irritated." She glared at Shinji. "It's your turn to make dinner."
Shinji frowned. "But the schedule says--" he began.
"You don't understand," she said, interrupting. "It's. Your. Turn."
Shinji sighed. "Of course it is," he said. "Fine, fine. But you better make it up to me!"
"Hmph." Asuka tossed her head and stalked off toward their room.

After dinner, Ryuko found Asuka in her room. She was hunched in front of her laptop, typing away. "Um . . . " Ryuko began.
Asuka spared her daughter a glance, then returned to the screen in front of her. "What do you want?" she asked.
Ryuko bit her lip nervously. "Well," she began, "um . . . "
Asuka's brows knit in irritation.
Ryuko squeezed her eyes shut. "You were pretty fucked up this morning!" she blurted out.
"Yeah, so?" Asuka said.
"I'm the reason for that, aren't I?" Ryuko asked.
Asuka stared at her, perplexed. "Why would you think that?" she asked. "It's about piloting, it's nothing to do with you. Don't be so egotistical."
Ryuko's fists shot to her sides. "I'm not being egotistical!" she said. "I'm part of it, I know it!"
"Eh?" Asuka asked, taken aback.
"I talked to Misato about it," Ryuko said. "Heishiro, too. They both told me you were fine before I was born. That you went months without a nightmare or whatever. Now you have them all the time! And it's not just you!" she went on. "They said dad was doing okay before I was born, that he was almost normal, but once I came along it was like ten years of progress went out the window."
Asuka narrowed her eyes. "Is that what they said?" she asked.
Ryuko nodded. "And don't you dare get mad at them!" she said. "They just told me the truth."
"So what if they did?" Asuka asked. "What of it?"
"I want to know why," Ryuko said. "I want to know why I hurt you so much." She frowned. "You and dad."
Asuka sighed. "Look," she said, "it has nothing to do with you personally. That's the truth. It's just . . . " She frowned, then shook her head. "It's complicated, okay? And besides, it doesn't really matter now--"
"It matters to me!" Ryuko exclaimed. "I saw you this morning, mom. You were in so much pain . . . " She swallowed thickly, then continued. "I just want to understand why," she said. "That's all. I just want to understand."
Asuka stared at her daughter for a time, then sighed. "Fine," she said. She opened up her laptop, then navigated to a particular folder. "This has everything you could ever want to know about piloting," she said. "If you want to know what happened to us, look here."
Ryuko  moved around the laptop, eager to see what Asuka had in store for her.
Asuka looked at her daughter warily. "But don't forget your place!" she said. "Your father and I have dealt with this for years, so remember that when you watch this."
Ryuko nodded, then started to watch the files.
Asuka frowned, then shook her head. "Obstinate little fool," she muttered. "You're just like your father." She sighed, then left the room.

Ryuko clutched her head with shaking hands, trying to purge her mind of the horrors she'd just witnessed.
"Oh, come on," Asuka said, entering the room. "It's not that bad."
Ryuko just stared at her, slack jawed. "How can you say that?" she asked, on the verge of hysteria. "Dad was boiled alive, they sent you into a goddamn volcano! And the fifteenth . . . oh, my God." She hugged herself, rocking back and forth. "You said it was defiling you, that it was . . . it was . . . " She shook her head. "I can't even imagine it. And they left you there, and they--"
"Hey!" Asuka snapped. Ryuko jerked, then met her gaze. "Get one thing straight, kid -- I hurt myself there. They had no control over the Evas, and I wasn't even supposed to sortie that day. I'm the one who jumped into battle, and I'm the one who refused to retreat. Misato ordered me to pull back, but I wouldn't listen." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't like admitting it, but what happened to me that day was my fault."
Ryuko shook her head. "That's insane!" she said. "You were a kid, mom! You shouldn't have even been out there! You should have been studying, and chasing boys, and . . . and . . . " She shuddered. "Aren't there rules against that? Against using kids in battle?"
Asuka sighed. "What do rules matter when the fate of humanity is at stake? Put things in perspective, Ryuko! Do you think Misato wanted to do that? Do you think she liked it?"
"No, but--"
"But what?" Asuka asked. "It was a shitty situation, and she handled it as best she could. When she figured out what was really going on she did what she could to stop it, but she didn't have many options at that point."
"How can you be so forgiving?" Ryuko mumbled.
Asuka cocked her head. "It was more than thirty years ago, for one thing," she said sardonically. "And, more importantly, she went to a lot of trouble to make amends."
Ryuko shook her head. "I can't believe she'd let them do that to you," she said. "It's unforgiveable! It's--"
Asuka rolled her eyes. "Quit being so melodramatic," she said. "Your father and I are the ones who were hurt by this, not you. Let us deal with it as we see fit and mind your own business."
Ryuko closed her eyes. "But--" she began.
"'But?'" Asuka asked, crossing her arms. "You're going to cause problems even though you weren't involved?"
"Well--" Ryuko began. She squirmed in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, no, it's not really my place, but even so--"
"Even so?" Asuka asked. Her voice was level, but the hint of menace in it was unmistakable.
Ryuko sucked in a breath, forcing herself to meet her mother's gaze. "You're not the only one who feels protective!" she said. "And I . . . I have to live with it too, you know! I don't suffer like you do, but . . . but . . . "
Asuka smiled at her, then relented. "I know," she said, hugging the girl. "You're just like your father that way. But don't worry; Misato's on our side. She's done everything for us since Third Impact." She grinned at her daughter. "And that includes helping us raise you!"
Ryuko made a face. "I still don't get how I fit into all of this," she said.
Asuka shrugged. "Who knows? Raising a child is stressful, and stress is what triggers it; that's why Misato and Kaji wouldn't let us do it until you were older." She frowned thoughtfully. "Hmmm. That's interesting, now that I think about it. I guess they wanted to make sure we wouldn't strangle you or something."
Ryuko's eyes went wide. "Eh?" she asked.
"Sorry," Asuka said. "Bad joke. Ask your father about it sometime. But anyway, for a while, your dad and I didn't have to worry about anything. But then you were born, and . . . " she shrugged.
Ryuko frowned. "So it is about me," she said.
Asuka shrugged. "Sort of. But don't worry about it. You're a good kid, so you're worth the trouble." She tugged a lock of Ryuko's hair. "Even if you are a delinquent."
Ryuko sighed, and her mother laughed and hugged her again.

July 21, 2032

Asuka awoke, screaming. She bolted upright, clutching her stomach as horrible visions assaulted her mind.
"Asuka!" Shinji yelled. He moved to put an arm around her, but she violently pushed him away. He stared at her in concern as she took deep breaths, struggling to reign in her turbulent emotions. After some time she calmed a bit, and allowed him to embrace her. "Maybe . . . " he began. He gulped. "Maybe we put off seeing her, at least for now."
She scowled at him. "Idiot!" she said. "It's not her fault."
"I don't care," he said. "If seeing her does this to you--"
"This has nothing to do with her," she spat. "It's just the same old shit, attacking me from a different angle."
"But--"
"Stop it," she said. "We are not abandoning her." She glared at him. "Unless you want to become a copy of your father?"
Shinji froze. The acid in her voice was unmistakable. "That's not fair," he said.
"You disgust me," she said. She lay down, turning away from him. "Using me as an excuse to run away from your own daughter? How pathetic."
"That's not what I'm doing!" he yelled, insistent. "Even if she is my daughter, I put you first!"
She flinched. "Moron," she said. "I'm an adult, and she's just a baby. How can you even begin to think that way?"
He reached out for her. "But . . . " he began.
She turned, grasping his arm and squeezing painfully. "No!" she said. "God, even after all this time, you still don't get it?"
Shinji recoiled from the venom in her words.
"She is your daughter," she said. "You will not reject her. I won't allow it!"
He looked away from her, tears streaming down his face. "What am I supposed to do, Asuka? I can't just--"
"Shut up!" she said, sneering at him. "No more excuses. Do as I say, Shinji. I won't forgive you if you don't."
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "She'll hate me," he said. "Just like my father did. She'll hate me, and--"
"Idiot," she said. "Your father was afraid of you, but Ryuko isn't. You have nothing to fear from her."
Shinji frowned, unconvinced.
"Just try, dummy," she said. "She won't know the difference. She's just a baby, remember?"
Shinji took another deep breath. "Fine," he said. "If that's what you want, then--" he began.
She scowled at him. "Is that the only reason?" she asked.
"No!" he said, a bit too quickly. He thought a moment, then clenched his fist. "Like you said, she's my daughter. I won't run away."
She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded. He lay down next to her, and she let him put an arm around her and pull her close. "You'll be alright, Shinji," she said. Her mouth quirked up in a wry grin. "After all, I'll protect you."
"Hey!" he said.
"No, no, it's fine," she said. "After all, babies are sooo frightening."
He bit her shoulder. "That's enough out of you!" he said.
She laughed at him, resting her hands on his chest as she did so. She kneaded her fingers gently. "I'm counting on you," she said quietly, pressing close. "I'm no good with her, so you need to help me out."
Shinji blinked in astonishment, then nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I will," he said. "I promise!"

July 17, 2032

Misato opened the door, finding Asuka standing on the other side. "Heya Asuka!" she chirped. Her demeanor changed as she took in the state of the former Second Child. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her features were tired and drawn. "Hey," she asked, concern in her voice, "are you alright?"
Asuka shrugged. "I can barely stand that idiot most days, but when he's gone . . . " She shook her head and looked away.
Misato frowned. "It's only been three days," she said. "And he'll be back tomorrow . . . "
Asuka shrugged.
"Hmmm," Misato said. "Maybe this isn't the best night for Kaji and me to--"
Asuka waved her off. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I said I'd babysit, and I will."
"But--" Misato began.
"Do you think I'll hurt her?" Asuka snapped. "My own daughter?"
Misato met her gaze squarely. "No," she said. "I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about you."
Asuka glared at her, then looked away. "She's my child," she said. "Taking care of her is my responsibility, not yours. I won't make excuses."
"Well . . . " Misato said. She traded a glance with Kaji. After some consideration he gave her a grave nod. She pursed her lips. "Are you sure about this, Asuka dear? It's just a date for us; we can always change it--"
Asuka shook her head. "If not now, when?" she asked. "There will always be an excuse to put it off. But if she needs me, what am I going to do? Put it all on Shinji? Make excuses about not being ready? Bullshit! I'm her mother. It's up to me to take care of her. Not you." She jerked her head toward Kaji. "Not him. Me."
"Fine," Misato said. She smiled, then looked around the apartment. "Well, we should be ready to go. Her diapers and other supplies are on the table there, and her formula's in the fridge. And of course you have our cell numbers, if you need anything." She frowned. "Sorry Heishiro bailed on us; he was supposed to be here, but he conveniently had club activities at the last minute . . . "
Asuka shook her head. "I don't care," she said.
Misato sighed. "Well, Pen-Pen's here, at least. And you can understand him better than most, so--"
"It's fine," Asuka said. "Just leave already."
"Fine, fine," Misato said, then made her way to the door. She exchanged another look with Kaji, then made her exit.
Asuka looked at her daughter, then crossed her arms. "Well, kid," she said, "looks like it's just you and me."

Misato poked aimlessly at her udon noodles.
"You look like you bear heavy thoughts," Kaji said.
Misato frowned. "I'm worried about her," she said.
Kaji chuckled. "Why do I get the feeling that tonight was more of a test for her than a date for us?"
Misato flushed. "Sorry," she said.
Kaji shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I'm worried about her too."
"Was this really alright?" she asked. "She doesn't . . . she doesn't seem ready, but--"
Kaji shrugged. "Asuka's Asuka," he said. "She does things her way, no matter what anyone else might say. And," he added, holding up a hand, "she does the best she can. We have to let her find her own way, even if it hurts her in the process."
Misato scowled at him. "That sucks," she said.
He shrugged. "What would you have us do? Make all of her decisions for her?"
"Of course not," she said.
"It's her life," he said. "We can help her out, but we can't live it for her."
She frowned. "She's in pain, Kaji. We owe her so much . . . "
"What we owe her," Kaji said, "is the chance to live. To love, to laugh, and, yes, to hurt. We owe it to her to support her without interfering, and to help her when she falls. But if we don't give her the opportunity to fall we aren't giving her the opportunity to live."
She scowled at him again. "You're irritating when you're right," she said.
He laughed. "Sorry," he said. He held up the dessert menu. "Perhaps I can distract you with dessert?"
"Make it good, buster," she said.

Misato entered her apartment, and immediately sensed something amiss. Ryuko's crib was empty, and Asuka sat with her against a wall on the opposite side of the room. Pen-Pen watched them, his beak open, at a loss. "Asuka?" she asked.
Ryuko whined at the sound of her voice, and Misato breathed a sigh of relief. Asuka's eyes were squeezed shut, her grip on her daughter strong yet fragile. "I told you I wouldn't hurt her," she said. "I told you! I'd never hurt her. I'd never--"
Kaji moved to take Ryuko from her. "It's fine, Asuka dear," he said. "She's fine. You don't have to worry anymore." Asuka held onto the child, then reluctantly relinquished her grip.
"Are you okay?" Misato asked, kneeling down next to her.
"Whark," Pen-Pen said.
Misato blinked. "Eh?" she asked.
Asuka swallowed, then shook herself. "She wouldn't stop crying," she said. "I fed her, I changed her diaper, I held her . . . I even sang to her. But she wouldn't stop crying." She looked at Misato. "Nothing I did worked!" she said. "I did everything I was supposed to do, and nothing worked! Why didn't it work? Why--"
"Shhh," Misato said. She took the girl in her arms. "Easy, now," she said. "Take it easy."
"She didn't want me," Asuka said. She looked at her daughter, who settled easily into Kaji's arms. Her eyes widened, hurt. "She wouldn't do that for me!" she said, watching them. "Why wouldn't she do that for me? I did everything I was supposed to do, but--"
"Asuka!" Misato snapped.
Asuka stared at her, wild-eyed.
"Look," Misato said. She ran a hand through her hair. "It's not about what you did, it's about how you did it. You're nervous, scared. She picked up on that, and it upset her."
Asuka grimaced. "So it's my fault, then?" she asked.
"No!" Misato frowned. "I mean, yes. Maybe." She sighed, then shook her head. "Look, it doesn't matter whose fault it was, okay? She's just a baby, she doesn't understand anything. Don't worry about who's to blame. I'm just trying to explain what's going on."
"What's going  on," Asuka said bitterly, "is that I'm a failure as a parent."
Misato laughed at her. "Don't be an idiot," she said.
Asuka's lip twitched, but she held her tongue.
"You're not a failure, Asuka," Misato said. "You just need practice."
"Tch," Asuka said. "When did you and Kaji ever practice?"
Misato glared at her. "You think we didn't?" she asked.
Asuka stared at her, confused.
"What about you?" Misato asked. "What about Shinji?"
Asuka blinked. "Eh?"
Misato grabbed her in a headlock, then ground a knuckle into Asuka's head. "You think it's easy raising broken children like you? Eh? Do you?"
"Ow!" Asuka whined. "Quit it!" Misato did, and Asuka glared at her. "We aren't babies!" she said. "It's different!"
"Sure it is," Misato said, "but it's still practice. And don't forget, we don't have your baggage. Ryuko brings to mind some painful memories for you and Shinji, but she doesn't for us. That makes it easier for us to relax around her."
"Hmph. Like it matters," Asuko said. She looked at Ryuko. "She'll never accept me."
"Buu!" Misato said.
"Shut up!" Asuka said. "It's true!"
"It is not," Misato said, scoffing at her. "I mean, okay, yes, tonight was rough. But what about the next time? What about when you're here with Shinji? Or with us? What happens when you know what you're doing? Do you really think it's that's simple?"
Asuka shrugged. "I don't think it matters," she said. 
Misato frowned, then smacked her former charge on the forehead. "Dummy," she said.
"Stop it!" Asuka snapped, rubbing her forehead.
Misato shrugged. "If you want me to stop, stop saying stupid things."
Asuka glared at her. "You're annoying," she said.
Misato shrugged again. "Maybe. But, look. You're obviously committed, and that's important. But wanting something doesn't automatically give you the ability to make it happen, alright? You're a bright girl, Asuka, but you're not infallible. Sometimes you need help."
Asuka looked at her daughter, then looked away. "That much is obvious," she said bitterly.
Misato sighed. "Look," she said, "my point is that you have that support! We're here to help you, me and Kaji. I realize it's unconventional, and a blow to your pride" -- Asuka flinched, but Misato carried on -- "but it's something we're willing to do. It's not that crazy an idea, is it?"
Asuka thought a moment, then shook her head. "I guess not," she mumbled.
Misato hugged her. "But that's just temporary," she said. "After awhile, you'll be fine."
"Yeah?" Asuka asked. "Says who?"
Misato grinned at her. "Says me!" she chirped.
Asuka looked at her, then turned to look at her daughter. "But--" she began.
"Hey," Misato said. Asuka looked at her. "Sometimes you just have to accept that I'm right, okay? Remember who had all the crazy plans to defeat the Angels? The crazy plans that worked?"
Asuka huffed. "Just because you're insane doesn't mean you're right--" she began.
"Asuka." Misato said, a note of irritation in her voice.
Asuka looked at her, then gulped. "Is it really okay?" she asked. "I mean--"
"Yes," Misato said, "It really is. I promise."
Asuka sank into her embrace. "But what if it isn't?" she asked.
Misato held her tightly. "Then I'll take care of you," she said. "And her."
Asuka clutched at her, then took a deep breath and stepped away. "Okay," she said. She stared at Misato, then at her daughter. "Okay," she repeated.

November 21, 2031 - pt 3

Shinji was playing the cello when Asuka got home. She took a seat at the kitchen table, a morose expression on her face.
"How did it go?" Shinji asked.
She looked at him. "I'm pregnant," she said.
He smiled sadly. "I wondered," he said.
"What?" she asked, irate. "Why didn't you say anything?"
He gave her a bland look. "You can't be serious."
She flushed a bit, then coughed. "Well, yes, I guess I can see your point."
He shrugged. "But anyway, you were sick three mornings in a row. What else could it be?"
She bit her lip, thinking, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Does Misato know?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I wanted to talk to you about it first," she said. "I'll give her a call in a bit."
"Okay." Shinji's fingers tapped against the neck of the cello. "What do you want to do?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I don't think I can bring myself to get rid of it. It just seems wrong somehow." She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "But I can't . . . I mean, there's just no way . . . " she trailed off, gesturing helplessly. "I don't know."
He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but faltered midway through. "Well, whatever you decide, you won't be alone."
She smiled back at him. "Thanks."
"And I don't just mean me," he went on. "Misato will help too, I'm sure of it. And Kaji, and your mother, and Misato's father, and Hikari and Touji . . . " His eyes widened. "That's right!" he said. "They have their own kids now, so they know all about being parents! I'm sure they'll be a great help."
"They won't need to help if we don't keep it," she observed.
"But . . . " he began, frowning. "But that would mean we'd never see it again. I don't like that idea."
She rolled her eyes. "Then what do you suggest we do?" she asked.
"I don't know," he mumbled. "But not that."
She sighed. "I should call Misato." She frowned. "My mother too, I guess. And will you stop abusing your poor cello? You're gonna break it if you keep gripping it like that."
Shinji winced, then released the cello and let it lay on his shoulder. He stared at the floor for a time, lost in thought, then began packing up the cello as Asuka made her calls.

March 30, 2027

"Shinji?" Asuka asked. She was at the kitchen table, her hands splayed out across it.
"What is it?" he asked, distracted. He was making dinner, and was focused on the food before him.
"Come here, will you?" she asked. "There's something I want to ask you."
He frowned. "Alright, give me a sec," he said. He finished putting the rice in the cooker, then stirred the noodles before he did as she asked. "What's on your mind?" he asked, sitting before her.
"I had a conversation with my mother a few days ago," she said. She blushed. "It was . . . " she coughed. "Well, it was about children," She said. "She suggested I make sure we're on the same page about the subject, so . . . " She shrugged, trailing off.
Shinji bit his lip. "Oh," he said. "Well . . . "
Asuka stared at him nervously. "You know I don't want them, right? I mean, I hate children, and I . . . they . . . "
Shinji nodded. "I know."
She frowned. "But what do you think?"
He ran a hand through his hair, then sighed. "I don't know, Asuka. Part of me wants to be a good father, to correct the mistakes my father made, and yet . . . "
She leaned forward. "And yet?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Between you, and your mother, and my work, I just don't know if I could handle it. I don't even know if I'd want to. It's just . . . overwhelming, I guess? There's too much going on, I can't even think about it."
She bit her lip. "But does that mean you want it? I mean--"
"I don't know!" he said, exasperated. "If it happened, maybe I'd be okay with it, but apart from that I don't even know."
She frowned. "I don't know how I'm supposed to interpret that."
He spread his hands. "Why are you so concerned about it?"
"Idiot!" she said. "It's because I care about your opinion!"
He stared at her, startled, then smiled. "Of course you do," he said. "As expected. It's fine, Asuka. If you don't want children, that's fine with me. I'm satisfied."
"Really?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes. I really am."
"But--" she began.
He shook his head. "No buts," he said. "I'm happy with what I have. If I get more I'll deal with it, but apart from that what I have is good."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," she said. "I'm glad."
He smiled at her. "As if I could ever go against you," he said.
She frowned, and he laughed, then grabbed her hand. "Idiot," he said.

November 21, 2031 - pt 1

Misato closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.
"Is something wrong?" Kaji asked. He sat at the kitchen table, his laptop before him and various charts and graphs strewn across the surface.
Misato opened her eyes. "No," she said, shaking her head. "It's just . . . " She looked at him directly. "Asuka is pregnant," she said.
Kaji's jaw dropped open in surprise, but he recovered quickly. "Er, how?"
Misato just stared at him.
Kaji shook his head. "No, I mean, she's on birth control, isn't she? To manage her periods?"
"I dunno," Misato said, shrugging. "Sometimes it just doesn't work, no matter how careful you are. But regardless, she's pregnant."
"Wow." Kaji dropped his hands to his lap, and laughed ruefully. "That's rather painfully ironic, given our circumstances."
"Yeah," Misato agreed. A wistful look played across her features, but then she smiled and crossed the room to sit beside him. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that."
"Oh?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah. See, the thing is, Asuka's not exactly . . . fit to be a parent right now. Maybe not ever. She's made a lot of progress, but even so she still has nightmares, and she's still temperamental. With a child . . . " She shook her head. "I just can't trust her with that responsibility. And she doesn't trust herself, either; she doesn't want children to begin with, but with everything else on top of it . . . there's no way she can do it. Her job and her mom and Shinji are all she can manage, and even that's pushing it."
Kaji nodded thoughtfully. "I don't disagree," he said. "So what will she do? Get rid of it?"
Misato bit her lip, then shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "She hasn't spelled it out or anything, but I don't think that's an option for her."
Kaji stroked his chin. "Adoption, then?"
Misato shook her head again. "I don't think she could handle that, either. To give up her child, never able to see it again . . . it would wreck her. She'd feel like she'd failed at yet another task, and there's no way she can handle that."
Kaji frowned. "So what's left?"
Misato licked her lips. "Well, that's where we come in. I was thinking, maybe we could . . . " She trailed off, leaving the thought hanging.
"Us?" Kaji asked, surprised.
Misato nodded eagerly. "It would be perfect!" she said. "We've been trying to have children for years, and they live right down the hall! They could see the child whenever they want, and help raise it when they feel up to it . . . it's the perfect solution!"
"Assuming they agree," he said. He sounded skeptical.
She grabbed his arm. "They will!" she said. "I'm sure they will."
"Hmmm."
Several moments passed in silence as Kaji digested Misato's words. Eventually she squeezed his arm and asked, "Well?"
Kaji looked at her and sighed. "Well, it's not like I can say no to you when you're this excited about it. And I can work from home anyway these days, so I'll certainly have the time. So if they're okay with it, then sure, why not?"
"Yay!" Misato clapped her hands.
"Heishiro's handling the dirty diapers, though," he said, smirking.
She scowled at him. "Kaji!"
He shrugged. "What? It'll be good practice for him."
She shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

"I said no, mother!" Asuka said, fuming. "That is absolutely not an option, and I don't want to hear another word about it!"
Kyoko sighed, massaging her temples. When she spoke her voice was strained. "Will you at least explain why you feel that way?" she asked.
Asuka glared at her, then closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and willed herself to relax. After a moment she opened her eyes and said, "Everyone I've ever depended on has abandoned me. Everyone! You, father, Misato, Kaji, Nerv . . . " She glanced at Shinji. "Well, not him, he just didn't do anything useful when I needed it--"
"Hey!" he exclaimed.
She winced. "Sorry, I meant back then." She turned back to her mother. "Anyway, they all threw me away like garbage, like I was worthless. I won't do that to another human being. Not now, not ever. Never!"
The venom in her voice was undeniable, and Kyoko was forced to relent. "Alright," she said, holding up her hands. "Fine, you win. But you realize that leaves us in a predicament, right? We need to--" She was interrupted by a knock at the door. She looked at it in exasperation as Shinji crossed the room to open it. When he did, they saw Misato and Kaji standing on the other side.
"Hiya kids!" Misato chirped.
"Hey Misato," Shinji said, smiling at her. "We were just discussing . . . " he waved his hands uselessly. "Current events, I guess. Come on in."
Misato nodded at him, as she and Kaji entered the apartment. "What a coincidence!" she said. "Kaji and I came here to talk to you about exactly that!"
Shinji's eyes widened at her tone. "Uh-oh."
Misato flashed them all a wide, toothy grin. "Don't worry, everything's going to be fine. I have an idea!"
Shinji and Asuka groaned, while Kyoko buried her head in her hands. "God help us all," she mumbled.
Misato just giggled. "Pretend you have faith in me!" she said. "Here's what I'm thinking . . . "

June 24, 2032

Shinji looked toward oncoming traffic, then hit the gas pedal and steered Misato's car outside of the hospital parking lot. He merged into the flow of traffic as he headed home.
Asuka took a look at his profile. He was wearing sunglasses, and his hair was long and ragged. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. She shifted gingerly, mindful of her tender belly. "Where is she?" she asked.
"Misato's looking after her," he said. "Misato and Kaji."
"I see," she said. "Like we agreed, then."
He nodded. "Yes."
Several moments went by. "Have you seen her?" she asked.
He glanced her way, then back at the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "No," he said.
She frowned. "Shinji, it's not her fault," she said.
"I know that!" he snapped. He took a deep breath, and his voice softened. "Of course I know that. But  I can't help it. She . . . " He trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"I know," Asuka said. She sighed. "Misato's right," she said. "We really are too attached to one another."
He glanced at her. "Is that such a bad thing?" he asked.
She shrugged. "It is when we hurt ourselves because of it."
He hunched down in his seat. "Well, what does she expect?" he asked. "I mean, after Third Impact . . . "
Asuka nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah. We were all alone, and we hurt so much . . . " She frowned, thinking. "I never thought I'd grow to like you back then," she said. "I hated you so much . . . how do you hate someone when you need them so desperately?"
"How should I know?" he asked. He shifted in his seat. "I was always afraid of you, afraid and worried. I didn't know how to be anything else."
"And yet, here we are." Her mouth quirked in a smile. "Is this what love is?" she mused. "Need, and affection?"
He frowned. "That's oversimplifying things," he said. "There's worry, too. And desire."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Stop it," he said, scowling at her. "You know what I mean. It's concern, and wanting to be close."
Several moments passed in silence. "Then," she began, "what about Ryuko?"
Shinji sucked in a breath.
She waited a beat. "Well?" she asked.
He scowled at her. "Of course I love her," he said. "She's our daughter."
"Good," she said. She nodded nervously. "Good. Then you'll help me out, right? When I see her, I mean. You'll . . . " she trailed off.
Shinji swallowed. He looked at her, then nodded. "Of course I will," he said.
"Alright then," she said. She settled back into the seat, and her hand came to rest over her mauled stomach. She closed her eyes, and eventually her breathing evened out as she fell asleep.
Shinji kept his eyes facing forward, resolute, as he continued onward toward the residence of Misato Katsuragi.

December 16, 2080

Asuka opened her eyes, looking around her as the fog of sleep receded. She saw Misato, standing near the window. "Where's Shinji?" she asked.
Misato turned toward her, and smiled slightly. "I made him get something to eat," she said. "He'll be back soon."
Asuka nodded. "I see," she said.
"How are you holding up?" Misato asked.
Asuka shrugged.
Misato sighed. "Sorry," she said. "You should have had another twenty years, at least. You and Shinji both."
Asuka shook her head. "It's fine," she said, her voice weak. "Every day of my life has been an ordeal. It will be nice to get some rest."
Misato pursed her lips, stung by the younger woman's comment, but she held her tongue.
But Asuka turned to her, and smiled. "But you made it easier," she said. "You and stupid Shinji. I had fun with you. Things were hard, but I still had fun."
Misato returned her smile. "Thank you," she said. "That means a lot to me. I . . . " she paused, then shrugged. "Thank you."
Asuka paid her no mind. "Where's Shinji?" she asked. "I want to see him. I'm tired, and I . . . " She swallowed, then said, "I don't have much time left."
"It's fine," Misato said. "I'll find him. I'll get him for you right away."
Asuka nodded, and dozed off.

Shinji entered the hospital room, and found his wife lying in the bed before him. She looked gaunt and pale, a mere shadow of the woman who'd shared his life for all these years. She turned her head, her eyes meeting his. "Hey, stupid Shinji," she said. Her voice was weak, but filled with good humor. "How you doin'?"
She held up a hand, and he took it between his own. "I'm alright," he said. An obvious lie. "Ryuko's taking care of me."
"Good," she said, nodding. "That's good."
"Are you in any pain?" he asked. "The doctors authorized morphine--"
She shook her head. "No," she said. "I want my head clear for now. I don't mind a little pain."
He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding.
"Stupid Shinji," she whispered. "Why are you so upset? I had a good life."
His shoulders trembled, and he lowered his head to their clasped hands. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
"Idiot," she said, fondness in her voice. "You took care of me, just like you said you would. You gave me a wonderful daughter, and we both accomplished many things. You should be happy, not sad."
He nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I know," he said. "You're right. I should be grateful." His breath caught on a sob. "But I'm selfish," he said. "I want more. I want to be with you forever!" He lowered his head to her breast, his shoulders heaving.
"Stupid Shinji," she said. She idly stroked his hair, holding him close, comforting him as best she could. "My Shinji," she whispered. He sobbed at that, clutching her tightly while she continued to hold him. Soon, though, her strength ran out. Her fingers stilled their motion, and her breath slowed, then stopped. Shinji stayed with her for a long time after that, refusing to let her go.

Ryuko exited the room, continuing on down the hallway. As soon as the door closed, however, she put a hand on the wall, leaning on it for support.
"She's gone, then?" Kyoko asked.
Ryuko nodded.
"I see," Kyoko said.
Ryuko took a moment, composing herself. Then she said, "He won't leave her. She's gone, but he . . . he won't leave her."
Kyoko nodded. "Of course he won't," she said. "There's no way he could."
"I know, grandmother, but even so . . . " Ryuko said.
Kyoko waved her off. "It doesn't matter," she said. "We have other things to worry about."
Ryuko swallowed thickly. "I'll . . . I'll take care of the arrangements," she said. "It's my responsibility, as her daughter, so--"
"Don't be ridiculous," Kyoko said. Ryuko gave her a puzzled look, and Kyoko smiled at her. "Don't forget, I was her mother, and Katsuragi loved her as well. We'll do it together."
Ryuko nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, grandmother," she said.

December 19, 2080

Ryuko frowned, staring at her father. "C'mon, dad," she said. "I'm worried about you. You're barely eating, and--"
"Sorry," he said, smiling at her. He rocked back and forth in his chair. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you. I'm okay, I promise."
She stared at her hands. "You say that, and yet . . . "
Shinji paid her no mind. "Amiko has a recital next weekend, doesn't she?"
She sighed, allowing him the distraction. "Yes," she said. "She's playing the piano."
"Good," he said. "That's good. I'm looking forward to it! I'm sure Asuka will . . . " He trailed off. His chair stopped its motion, and his eyes lost focus. He sank back in the chair as grief overtook him.
Ryuko watched him carefully. "Dad?" she asked.
Shinji didn't reply, only staring off into the distance.
Ryuko moved to his side, trying to comfort him. "Dad, it's okay. I'm here for you. You're . . . you're not alone, you know?"
Shinji stared at her, disconsolate. "But who will take care of her?" he asked. "She's . . . no one's looking after her now, and she . . . and . . . "
She wrapped her arms around him. "She's fine, dad," she said. "Mom's strong, okay? We took good care of her, so she can handle anything now. She'll be fine."
He clutched at her, burying his head in her breast. "Why did she have to leave?" he asked, sobbing. "There was so much left to do, so why did she have to leave?"
 "It was her time, dad," she said, holding him tightly. "It was just her time to move on. And we . . . we have to move on without her."
Shinji said nothing to that, unable to imagine a world without his Asuka.

Ryuko started awake, then looked around her in confusion. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was just yet. She got up, leaving the couch and her blanket behind her, and made her way to her father's room. She turned on the light, and her breath caught in her throat. Her father was still, and a young boy and girl stood next to him, he on one side, she on the other. She recognized them instantly, long conversations with her parents springing instantly to mind.
"Wait!" she said. The boy smiled and cocked his head, oblivious to her distress. She turned to the girl. "My mother," she began. "What about my mother?"
The girl paused for a moment, then nodded. Ryuko blinked, and they were gone.

June 3, 2026

Misato slurped up some of her ramen, then gave Shinji an inquiring look. "So, Shinji," she asked, "how are you settling in at Herz?"
Shinji shrugged. "It's fine. The training in school really helped, so I don't feel too lost."
Asuka snorted, her arms folded behind her head. Misato gave her a disapproving frown, then turned back to Shinji. "And  how are things at home?" she asked slyly. "You two doing okay?"
Shinji flushed. "W-well . . . " he began.
"Stop being so nosy," Asuka grumbled. "If there were problems we'd tell you."
"Asuka . . . " Shinji said.
"Fine, fine," Misato said airily. "I'm just wondering, that's all."
"Wondering about what?" Shinji asked, suspicious.
Misato leaned forward, her eyes dancing. "When you'll settle down! Start a family! Get--"
Asuka rolled her eyes. "Oh Christ, not this again. We aren't getting married, Misato. Let it go already."
Misato pulled back, giving Asuka a hurt look. "Is it really so terrible if I want to see you two happy?"
"That's the problem," Asuka shot back. "You're dreaming about something that will never happen."

Shinji opened the door to the apartment, then preceded Asuka inside. "I think you might have hurt Misato's feelings," he said.
Asuka shrugged. "Well, too bad. I've told her before not to keep pushing like that, so she should know better."
Shinji sighed. "Asuka . . . "
"What?" She glared at him, then relented. "Fine, I'll apologize tomorrow."
He nodded. "Thank you."
Asuka made her way to the living room and sat down. She grabbed the TV remote off the floor, turning on the TV and flipping through the channels until she settled on a program about the mating habits of Hakone's birds in the post-Third Impact era.
Shinji sat beside her and watched for a while. Finally he asked, "Would it really be so terrible? Getting married,  I mean."
"Tch. Don't be stupid, Shinji. Marriage is for adults, and we're still Children." Her expression darkened with bitter humor. "Us? Married? What a fucking joke."
Shinji didn't reply. There was something on the TV about pair bonding, and it was making him nauseous. "If that's how you feel," he asked, "then what's the point? Why are we doing this?"
She shot him a sideways glance. "You're the one who wanted to be friends, remember? You're the one who wanted to take care of me, to distract yourself from your own guilt and misery. And I let you, so I can feel like my life is worth something. That's the best we can do. It always has been."
"I see," he said. "I guess that's true."
Seconds ticked by as the show droned on. "So what's your problem?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No problem. I just . . . I guess I thought we'd moved past that."
"Don't mistake affection and sympathy for a healthy relationship, Shinji. I like you, but that doesn't mean we've really fixed anything. It just means we have enough control over our problems that they're no longer killing us."
He didn't reply. The show continued, noting that while one species that would mate for life another would practice serial monogamy.
After a few minutes Asuka asked, "Are you going to run away?" Her voice was steady, but the undercurrent of tension beneath the calm was unmistakable.
He shook his head again. "No," he said. "I won't run away. Never again."
She relaxed a bit in response, then leaned against the wall.
"Even if you're wrong," he added, a corner of his mouth curling up.
Asuka tensed, opening her mouth to reply, then returned her attention to the TV. "Idiot," she mumbled.