Chapter 6
Slowly opening my eyes, I saw an unfamiliar ceiling before me, though the surprise lasted no longer than a few seconds before the memories of the previous day flooded back into my head.
Sighing, I sat up and moved my head from side to side, stretching my neck.
A breath of cool morning wind drifted into the room from the cracked window, while the sun attempted to peek out from behind the high-rises.
Getting to my feet, I trudged over to my diary, clicked my pen, and, after thoughtfully tapping it against my lower lip, hummed and made a quick, short entry. Snapping the notebook shut, I fought the urge to return to the futon and continue my unfinished dream.
I don't remember exactly what I saw in the realm of Morpheus, but it must have been something good, since I didn't wake up in a cold sweat. Even my mood was slightly elevated, which is a rarity at such an early hour.
Massaging my eyelids, I slapped my cheeks a couple of times and forced myself into a plank position. I needed to get the blood flowing through my body at least a little bit. There is no better way than a short session of bodyweight exercises.
Half an hour later, ten minutes of which were spent in the bathroom, I sat in the kitchen, meditating over the slowly boiling electric kettle. Finding tea bags turned out to be quite a task: judging by the enormous number of coffee jars, Katsuragi belonged to the other camp. Moreover, some of them were labeled "For Ritsu!"—direct proof that I would likely be crossing paths with Dr. Akagi frequently outside of work.
"Already up?" Misato crawled into the kitchen, yawning actively and scratching her bare stomach. Her hair was a total mess, bags shone proudly under her eyes, and her overall appearance suggested a clearly difficult night and an even more difficult awakening.
She hadn't even bothered to change: she was still parading around in a camisole and...
Looking down, I quirked an eyebrow.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, the Captain followed it, froze, and then, with a hiccup, practically bolted from the room, giving me one last chance to appreciate her rear end, clad in lace panties, in all its glory.
"You didn't see anything!" her shout echoed from the corridor.
Smirking, I scratched the scar on my wrist.
Well, pretending that I "didn't see anything" was possible. However, completely erasing her morning and nighttime image from my head was obviously not going to happen. A vivid teenage imagination would see to that.
The kettle turned off with a loud click, puffing steam.
"Misato-san," I raised my voice. "Coffee or tea?"
"Coffee! Two spoons! Four of sugar!" my new roommate called back with a slight delay.
I wonder how good the soundproofing is here? And do we have any neighbors at all besides Akagi and Ayanami? There were almost no cars in the underground parking lot, and when we returned late last night, no lights were on in the windows.
Then again, it would be just like my father to allocate an entire building for his operatives. He rented a whole train for me, didn't he? He did. So, the possibility of a nearly empty house was plausible.
Simultaneously, taking the nearest cup from the rack—usually those were the most used—I scooped in some instant coffee, added a generous amount of sugar, and topped it with boiling water.
Stirring the drink, I involuntarily smiled, remembering my uncle's daughter, who always strictly stirred either tea or coffee the same way: thirty times clockwise, thirty times counter-clockwise. Apparently, she'd read in some magazine that this was the "correct" way to achieve perfect homogeneity and richness.
Naturally, I'd tried it, but to my regret, I didn't feel any particular difference. Counter or clock, thirty or forty: nothing changed.
Nevertheless, there was something to it. Something... meditative.
And—thirty. Done.
"Ahem," Misato coughed as she returned to the kitchen. Judging by the droplets of moisture, she'd managed to splash her face on the way back. "Good morning, Shinji-kun."
"Morning," I smiled, waiting for her to sit before sliding the cup of hot coffee toward her. "How did you sleep?"
Sniffing it for some reason, as if I might have spiked it with something, Katsuragi took a small sip and immediately winced, sticking out the tip of her tongue.
"Hot," she complained. Setting the drink aside, she slumped onto the tabletop, resting her chin on her folded arms. "I slept okay. I didn't... do anything weird yesterday, did I?"
Of course, nothing stopped me from playing a prank on the Captain, making up some story like: "You tried to punch me while calling me by someone else's name," or something of the sort, but I decided to take pity on the woman's frayed nerves.
"No. You peacefully fell asleep right here in the kitchen, so I had to carry you to your room and put you to bed," I reported, the smile never leaving my face.
Okay, I lied. Partial pity.
"That was you?!" Katsuragi bolted upright, her ears turning a faint red. "I thought I made it there myself... Wait," she narrowed her eyes. "Are you lying to me?"
Sitting opposite her, I took a sip of my scalding tea.
"What do I have to gain?" I shrugged. "If you want to make sure, you can ask Dr. Akagi. She was the one who asked me to do it."
"Ritsuko?" Sighing, the Captain pressed a palm to her face. "Of all the... Fine, fine," quickly regaining her composure, Misato adjusted a slipping strap of her camisole. "Nothing else?"
At this, I shook my head. The session of free semi-stripte was better left off-camera; it was a double-edged sword. We barely knew each other well enough to leave such a thing at the level of "jokes and forgotten memories." It would leave a lingering taste.
"I'll take your word for it," sipping her coffee again, Katsuragi winced, touching her temples, then forced a pained smile while ignoring the ache. "On the bright side, you got the chance to handle a pliable female body. Isn't that wonderful?"
They say that cracking lewd jokes in such situations is nothing more than a psychological defense mechanism, a way to lower stress.
Or, Misato really is just that loose an individual outside of her direct professional duties.
"I still can't believe I got so lucky," I didn't hide the sarcasm in my voice. "I've always dreamed of such a thing."
"Mm?" The Captain tilted her head. "Do you have something against older women? Or... women in general?"
Ouch, a hit below the belt. I was never famous for peeping in girls' locker rooms or stalking classmates with awkward confession letters, but accusing me of having a non-traditional orientation?
"Believe me, Katsuragi-san," I specifically used her surname. "I am interested exclusively in the opposite sex."
"Oh, please," the woman snorted, leaning back. "I was joking, don't make such a serious face."
Closing her eyes, she stretched luxuriously, making her camisole tighten dangerously again.
Propping my head on my fist, I sighed internally and closed my eyes. I wonder, is she testing my resolve on purpose? Then the question arises: does Misato remember that I am a normal fourteen-year-old teenager? The key word being "fourteen." What's our age gap? Ten years? Fifteen?
Or conversely, from her perspective, do I seem harmless enough that she can afford to be this way?
"By the way, Shinji-kun," having finished her stretch, Misato decided to start a new round of conversation. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
Thanks to my internal composure, I didn't choke on the tea I was finishing at that moment.
No, I understand everything, but isn't touching on such topics in our current circumstances a bit gauche?
Apparently, some part of my conflicting emotions broke through, because the Captain smirked mischievously.
"I'm not asking for details, just a 'yes' or 'no'," she rested her chin on her palm, squinting playfully. "We're going to be living together for a long time, and nothing helps build a relationship like discussing spicy topics over breakfast."
I measured my companion with an unreadable gaze, refusing to admit to myself that I was slightly embarrassed by the topic.
"Doesn't your position imply the ability to study my personal file? Given my father's pedantry, I have no doubt you'll find the information you need there," I tried to "slip away" with a clumsy dodge.
"You're just like Ritsuko," Misato snorted, flicking her fingernail against the rim of her cup with her free hand. "I'll answer you with what I told her: I find it far more interesting to learn things first-hand than to be satisfied with dry lines in a report."
"On the other hand, you won't cause unnecessary discomfort to a person you've only recently met," I couldn't resist a slight jab.
The smile on Misato's face didn't waver; if anything, it deepened.
"But wouldn't it be unpleasant for you to find out that someone learned details of your private life without permission? This way," she gave a playful wink, "everything seems much fairer, don't you agree?"
"Fairness is a relative concept..."
"Now, now!" the woman wagged a finger. "Don't go off into sophistry on me. I'm no amateur, you know; I won't fall for such a simple trick!"
I didn't expect anything less from the Operations Director of the organization headed by my father. He certainly wouldn't put just anyone in a leadership role. And he certainly wouldn't entrust a novice to watch over his precious offspring and the future pilot of a giant robot.
Besides, it wasn't that I saw a serious problem with briefly going over my romantic history.
The issue was something else entirely.
Misato had managed to catch me off guard, which stung my pride. I needed to somehow seize the initiative in the dialogue and regain my footing. Unfortunately, there were no good options in my head. Only incredibly simple and "crude" ones.
Well, what can you do? For lack of better, I'd have to settle for the hand I was dealt.
"And what about you?" I put on a soft smile and closed my eyes slightly. "Since you started it, I think it would be logical to set an example."
Katsuragi raised an eyebrow and gave a short laugh.
"My relationships? Exactly one, and it was total shit," the woman didn't hesitate with her answer. "There were pleasant moments, I won't deny that, but if I had the chance to roll back time, I would never fall for that bastard's charm a second time."
She mentioned neither a name nor when it happened, but I had no complaints on that front. The Captain herself said she didn't require full details.
"That's it," she spread her arms, rocking on the back legs of her chair. "Nothing more to add. So, Shinji-kun," her lips curled into a foxy smile, "your turn."
And where had her hangover gone, the one that had been torturing the operative fifteen minutes ago?
Her cheeks had even flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Some kind of special skill, perhaps?
Nevertheless, the condition had been met: Misato had answered the question honestly (I hope). Accordingly, it was my turn.
Continuing to smile, I raised my fist and uncurled four fingers.
"Four?" the woman was genuinely surprised. "At fourteen years old?"
Shrugging, I chuckled.
"Two of the relationships lasted a day, one lasted a week—when I had to pretend to be my uncle's daughter's boyfriend."
"Just like in the soap operas?" Katsuragi leaned forward with interest, like a predator sensing blood.
"Almost," I confirmed.
Misato started to open her mouth, but then, clicking her tongue in annoyance, she leaned back, crossing her arms under her chest.
"Dammit! I said no details... Why did I even say that?.."
I remained silent, limiting myself to another smile.
"Fine. What about the last ones?" the Captain quickly returned to the original topic.
"What 'last ones'?" I feigned confusion.
"Your last relationship."
"It happened, that's correct."
Growling gutturally, Katsuragi literally threatened me with a fist.
"Shinji-kun, don't wake the beast in me!"
"What did I do? I didn't do anything," I logically understood how childish my behavior was, but I wasn't going to miss the chance to mess with her a bit.
However, a phone call muffled from the bedroom prevented Misato from saying everything she thought about my "impromptu" performance.
Her eyes rounding, the Captain jumped from her chair, miraculously not knocking it over, and bolted into the room.
"Kso! I was supposed to send Makoto that information yesterday evening!"
Waiting until she was out of sight, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I don't know who this "Makoto" is, but I hope he gets a karma point for this, because I absolutely did not want to continue that conversation with Misato.
Getting up from the table, I went to the fridge and, glancing at the tempting box of orange juice, pulled out a couple of sausages.
Last relationship, huh?
Peeling off the wrapper, I bit off half of the pressed meat substitute in one go.
Of all things, I don't even want to remember those.
Not even as a joke.
My thoughts were interrupted by the opening door of the second refrigerator, which served as the home for Misato's unusual pet. Pen-Pen climbed out, looked at me, squawked something unintelligible, and saluted with a clawed wing before waddling over and staring expectantly at the sausages in my hand.
"You want some?" I asked, not knowing how much he understood human speech.
The penguin nodded affirmatively.
Pulling out the opened pack, I allocated a few to the bird, to which Pen-Pen, clutching them tightly in his claws, squawked gratefully and disappeared back into his sanctuary.
Shrugging, I popped the rest of the sausage into my mouth and brushed off my hands.
Alright, day two. Let's see what fate has in store for me this time.
---
"Right," unfastening her seatbelt, Misato was the first to get out of the car. "Look, see that hottie over there?"
She pointed to a short-haired girl walking quickly toward us.
"That's Maya Ibuki, nominally Ritsuko's right hand. Today you are entirely at her disposal," taking off her sunglasses, Katsuragi tucked them into her jacket pocket. "Don't cause trouble, don't be a pain, and for the sake of everything in this world..."
The Captain looked me straight in the eyes, adding weight to her final instruction:
"Don't push yourself too hard," smirking at my surprise at such an unexpected conclusion, she winked. "I'll pick you up this evening!"
And without waiting for a reply, Misato vanished into one of the many corridors, leaving me standing by the car.
"Shinji-kun?" At that moment, Ibuki managed to reach me. Judging by her ragged breathing, she had literally run here.
"That's me."
"Excellent!" Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, the girl smiled radiantly. "Follow me then, Dr. Akagi is already waiting for us!"
Grabbing the edge of my jacket, as if afraid I would refuse or run away, Ritsuko's assistant pulled me along. Well, more accurately, she tried: after all, she was shorter and definitely wouldn't have had the strength to drag me against my will.
"And what exactly will we be doing?" I inquired, adjusting my pace to match hers.
"Nothing unusual," Maya's tone was brimming with cheerfulness. "We'll run a few tests, check your synchronization, then a session in the simulator. That's it!"
"Synchronization?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to memorize the specific twists and turns we were taking, but I lost count by the seventh turn.
I need to squeeze a floor plan out of Misato, otherwise I'll never find my way around here.
"Yes," Ibuki nodded energetically, slowing her pace. "As you know, the Evangelions are the pinnacle of human technology—the crown jewel! And to pilot them, we need not just anyone, but specifically people whose synchronization level matches, allowing them to control the robot."
She smiled widely, looking at me.
"Cool, right?"
Letting out a chuckle, I nodded.
"Cool," because she was holding my sleeve, I couldn't scratch my wrist. "But what exactly is synchronization?"
Blinking, Maya tilted her head cutely, and then, her eyes widening, let out an "Oops."
"Um... Better if Dr. Akagi explains it herself. I know a bit, of course, but I'm nowhere near her genius!" Given the notes of reverence when she mentioned Ritsuko, this individual clearly put the blonde on some kind of pedestal.
"She's that smart?" I smirked, testing my hunch.
Abruptly stopping, Ibuki turned to face me and, holding her hands in front of her chest, began to babble:
"Dr. Akagi is the Chief of the Technical Division at NERV Headquarters! She's responsible for the research and development of the Evangelions, as well as their repair and maintenance! Essentially, without her brilliant ideas, we would never have achieved what we have now! Of course, many believe it's all the merit of Dr. Akagi's mother, but those who say that are real fools!" For a moment, it seemed to me that real stars had lit up in Maya's eyes.
M-da, this smells of at least a slight obsession. However, as long as it doesn't turn into a morbid attachment, it's fine. It's fine, right?
Apparently realizing she'd gone a bit overboard with her emotions, Maya coughed into her fist.
"In any case, you shouldn't underestimate the Doctor. And though she might seem gruff and cold, Akagi-san is actually very sensitive and caring. She even wanted to become the foster mother for the First Child!"
At this, I had trouble keeping a straight face, since I'd already seen the relationship between Ritsuko and Rei. "Caring" and "sensitive"?
In that case, I need to check the definition of those words in a dictionary; perhaps they've changed?
During our conversation (or rather, Maya's monologue about the wonderful and incomparable Akagi), we had reached our destination. At the very least, I recognized the room I'd been in yesterday, covered in a bunch of confusing suction cups.
The owner of the room herself sat in a chair before a multitude of monitors, smoking a cigarette and tapping her finger on a control panel. Ritsuko didn't turn at our arrival, continuing to observe the flickering data.
"Thank you, Maya," flicking away ash, the blonde took another deep drag. "Leave Shinji-kun here and go check the readiness of the simulators. Aoba assured me they're fine, but I trust you more."
"Yes, Dr. Akagi!" Glowing with happiness, Ibuki saluted and bolted out of the room, nearly crashing into the doors as they barely managed to slide open before her.
"She's going to crack her head open one day," Ritsuko grumbled barely audibly. Spinning around sharply in her office chair, she looked at me.
Good grief, look at the circles under her eyes. Did she even sleep last night?
"Don't just stand there like a statue, Shinji-kun," stubbing out her cigarette, she took off her glasses and massaged her eyelids. "Strip naked and get in the capsule."
"Again?" I grunted, pulling my jacket over my head.
"Again," the blonde confirmed. "Get used to it; it'll be like this almost every day. At least for the first few months, for sure."
Stripping off my shirt and pants, I stood there in just my underwear.
"Are you just going to keep watching?" I asked the Doctor, who hadn't even thought of turning away.
Ritsuko propped her head on her fist and drawled, not hiding her sarcasm.
"What... are you shy?"
Silently, I pulled off my underwear, stepped over it, met Akagi's gaze, and raised an eyebrow.
Ritsuko smiled calmly, closed her eyes slightly, and tilted her head, indicating it was time for me to be among the machinery again—the purpose of which I still hadn't the slightest clue.
---
"Shinji-kun, close your eyes, relax, and take a deep breath," following Akagi's instruction, I settled into the capsule. "You're about to experience a phenomenon close to synchronization. Your main task is to remain conscious."
"Lovely," the response sounded muffled due to the tight-fitting helmet, through which I could see absolutely nothing even if I opened my eyes.
"By all appearances, you are ready," and without giving me a chance to ask what for, Akagi commanded: "Activate Protocol P-1!"
The next second, I experienced something like having a flashlight shone directly into your eyes in the middle of the night, after someone had stuffed a kaleidoscope lens into it.
Multi-colored spots of all shapes and sizes filled my vision, as if trying to leave a scorched trail on my retinas. They moved and changed shape constantly, leaving me completely disoriented for several seconds.
"Shinji-kun, focus! Keep your attention on a single point, fix any 'spot' in one position, don't let it 'spread'!" I could barely hear Ritsuko; her voice was distorted by strange interference, the hiss of which drove into my temples like sharp nails.
Catching a "spot"?
How the hell was I supposed to do that?
Clenching my teeth, I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, trying to imagine that I'd simply looked at a lamp for too long and now a light-afterimage was floating behind my closed eyelids. Choosing a central "spot," I focused, recovering forgotten sensations.
There, it froze in place. It stopped spreading in different directions. The neighboring afterimages slowly faded, sinking into darkness.
Finally, they all vanished, leaving me alone with my chosen hallucination.
"Good! Already seventy percent! Keep it up," on one hand, I seemed to hear what Ritsuko was saying, but on the other, my brain didn't really process the information.
All my attention was on the spot, which bled from bright blue into purple, then pale yellow, white, and finally, began to fill with a familiar orange glow.
Exactly, orange. Like the rind of a fresh orange. Not too smooth, possessing a slightly rough texture. Firm and resilient.
Yes, exactly like that. And with a distinct citrus scent that becomes even stronger if you tear it slightly.
"Eighty-eight? Eighty-nine?! Shinji-kun, what's happening with you?"
But a rind can't just lie there like that. Every rind has a shape, depending on the pulp that fills it. And why should it be peeled?
The spot, obeying my will, slowly began to narrow, losing its ragged edges and gradually taking on a rounded shape.
"Ninety-three?! Shinji, answer me immediately!"
There it was, a nearly perfect, even orange. With an inviting, shiny peel that you just want to tear apart with your fingers, spraying bittersweet juice.
I could even smell its aroma.
"Ninety-six? Shinji?! Dammit! MAGI, abort Protocol P-1 immediately!"
So real that if I reached out my hand, I could grab it with my fingers.
"What do you mean, error?! Emergency system shutdown! Cut backup power! Code..."
The image of the juicy orange vanished instantly. Instead, a pain so sharp pierced my head that I ground my teeth until they creaked, gripping the armrests.
Fortunately, it lasted only a few seconds, but they were more than enough to make me nearly lose consciousness.
With a loud hiss, the helmet released my head. A sharp scent hit my nose, making me cough. I snapped my eyes open, only to immediately squeeze them shut again, blinded by the change in lighting.
"Are you alright, Shinji?" For some reason, Akagi sounded absurdly worried.
Licking my lips, I opened my eyelids much more carefully and, blinking, saw the Doctor before me. She was holding a piece of cotton wool soaked in something, the scent of which had brought me back to consciousness.
"Smelling salts?" I smiled weakly, unable to move a single finger. "You prefer the proven classics?"
Exhaling in relief, Akagi nudged a chair over with her foot and slumped into it, wiping her forehead with her sleeve.
"Joking? That means you're fine," she'd turned incredibly pale.
"Did something go wrong?" I asked, gradually feeling the sensation return to my limbs.
"Yes," flicking a cigarette out, Ritsuko lit up right there. "Don't disconnect the wires yet. The system will reboot and signal when it's safe."
Leaning my head back against the soft cushion, I winced.
"Okay. What exactly went wrong, though?"
The Doctor, blowing a stream of blue-gray smoke from her nose, gave a crooked smile.
"I don't know, but I hope the MAGI can correctly decipher the data," shaking her head, Ritsuko stubbed out the cigarette and put it back in the pack. "Tell me, Shinji-kun, are you always this much trouble?"
Smirking harmlessly, I closed my eyes.
"No. Only on even dates in March during leap years."
Apparently, the blonde really wasn't herself, because she laughed at my ridiculous impromptu line.
Taking a breath, I wrinkled my nose slightly.
Strange, but was the lab smelling like oranges before this?..