The World We Couldn't Have

Prologue

Drifting, drifting, drifting...

She barely registered the gentle sway of the pod, though her body knew the feeling all too well, the pod listing and moving in the winds. She could hear the faint flapping of the parachute as it lazily filled with air, and the wind pushed against it. The emergency lights gave off a weak, crimson glow, casting her in a ghostly half-light, leaving her surroundings shrouded in darkness. A faint tremor ran through her legs, though whether it came from the dying systems of the entry plug or her own exhaustion creeping up to her, she couldn't tell.

It had been silent in her mind for so long, and now, with nothing but the soft creaking of the pod as company, those words entered her mind again.

Thanks for saying you liked me... I liked you too.

The words hit her again, louder this time, almost echoing through the empty, metallic hull of the entry plug. Damn it, why did he have to say that? Just another crack in her defenses, another bout of emotions around the boy she wasn't ready for. Fifteen years spent keeping it all locked away, and with a few words, he ripped it open again. Leave it to idiot Shinji to do such a thing.

Couldn't he have just left it at goodbye?

Her hands tightened into fists, knuckles pale as they gripped the cold, dead controls. Every thought, every memory she had fought to suppress, flooded back. His face, the way he used to look at her—hesitant, unsure—and that final look of reassurance from him before she turned away, unable to meet his gaze after his words. Goddamn it, why couldn't she look at him? All of it was flooding back, twisting, twisting, twisting...

She fought her tears, threatening to fall from her eyes. She knew that, if they fell, it would all become too real. Yet again she wished for it all to be a dream, some sort of sick nightmare she could just wake up from, where she'd still be in Kensuke's house, with that naive original batch and that stupid Shinji sulking in the corner... but that thought itself pulled her back to the present for just one fleeting moment for her to ask herself, "Where am I?" However, before she could wonder any longer, the pod crashed against the Earth, jolting her hard in her seat as the pod rolled and groaned violently. She gritted her teeth, her head being thrown forward, causing a jolt of pain to rocket through her neck. With one last heaving groan, the pod rolled into an upright position, and came to rest.

She sat there a moment, taking deep breaths, wrapping her hand around the back of her neck, gently massaging it as if it would help the nasty case of whiplash she'd just earned herself. She rolled her head back, resting it against the chair, looking up at the dark ceiling of the entry plug, letting out a deep, exhausted breath. She let out a soft half-smile, thankful that, at least, she was now on solid ground. She gently patted her hand against the controls, as if thanking the pod for her safe arrival to... wherever she was now. She let out a soft scoff. She just always had to survive, didn't she. Everyone else has to disappear except for her. Every. Single. Time.

It only took a few more minutes before she could hear the metallic whine of the entry plug's entrance being unlatched. She turned to watch it as it slowly cracked open, the sunlight blinding her with golden rays, causing her to shield her eyes. Slowly, her eyes adjusted and there stood the torso and face of Kensuke, with his arms holding up the hatch. He looked dumbfounded at Asuka, blinking as if she was some sort of vision, his glasses sliding off his nose. She sat still, just taking in the sight of the man for a moment, her breath slowing.

"Asuka...?"

She stared at him for a beat, taking in his dumbfounded expression. Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, all the weight of everything—the years of fighting, the pain, the brief flicker of victory—washed over her. She could break now, couldn't she? Just collapse into his arms, let him hold her like a child...

But instead, she swallowed, curled her mouth into a familiar frown, and spoke in her usual indignant voice.

"What took you so long?"