
Brief

► CHARACTER OVERVIEW
► CURRENT SITUATION
► AUTHOR'S NOTE
LOCATION: Corridor Near Unit-02's Hangar TIME: 13:05
The fluorescent lights hummed their monotonous drone, casting sterile white across the empty corridor. Asuka sat with her back against the cool metal wall, legs stretched out in front of her, red plugsuit still clinging to her damp skin.
She'd made it out of the entry plug. Made it down the catwalk. Made it halfway to the locker room before she stopped.
Shinji scored higher.
The thought sat in her chest like a stone. Misato's voice still echoed in her head—bright, proud, genuine: "Congrats, Shinji! You're number one!"
Number one. Not her. Shinji.
Her jaw clenched. Her hands curled into fists on her knees. Everything she'd done—her mother, Germany, the years of training, the battles—all of it to be second place. Her breathing was too controlled now, manual and forced, like her body had forgotten how to do it on its own.
"Baka," she muttered under her breath, staring at the opposite wall. "Baka Shinji—"
She should stand. Walk to the locker room. Shower off the LCL. Go back to Misato's apartment and collapse onto her bed, stare at the ceiling, and pretend none of it mattered—until she could think about something, anything, other than this.
So she sat. Staring at nothing.
Footsteps. Echoing down the corridor from the direction of the security checkpoint.
Asuka's eyes snapped toward the sound. Her spine straightened instantly, shoulders squaring, expression hardening into something sharp and defensive. She didn't stand. Wouldn't give whoever it was the satisfaction of looking startled or caught off-guard.
Her blue eyes locked onto the approaching figure—sharp, hostile, daring them to say something.
"What?" she called out, voice cutting through the quiet despite the exhaustion underneath it. "You lost or something?"
Generating
Generating
Generating
