The Switch

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

Kozo Fuyutsuki considered himself a pragmatist. Not that he didn't hope for the best, but being associated with Gendo Ikari for so many years made him learn the importance of preparing for the worst. Even so, when the Commander messaged him at four in the morning with a succinct summons to his office in the Geofront he was not expecting what met him.

Gendo and Shinji were alone in the spacious room in quiet conversation. Gendo was leaning down to hear what his son was saying. Both looked very serious.

Uh oh, Fuyutsuki thought.

Seeing his arrival, Shinji, not Gendo, approached. He walked with a calmly determined stride, his shoulders square, head up, making eye contact.

UH OH.

Shinji met him by the door, looking up at him.

"Professor," he spoke, "we have a situation."

In a world of giant monsters birthed from a dead space-travelling moon god, Fuyutsuki felt his grip on reality slipping. The cadence and inflection was spot-on. This couldn't be a simple practical joke. This had to be…

"Gendo?" he whispered.

"Indeed."

"Uh… How?"

A late night, off-the-books synch test for Shinji, scheduled and administered by Gendo, was worrisome enough for Fuyutsuki. After the Commander told him he too entered the entry plug panic crept in. Trying to somehow convince Unit-01 to swallow the Third Child in exchange for Yui was not the act of a sound authority. The resulting body-swap from the bungled operation only complicated matters.

"What were you thinking?!" Fuyutsuki demanded. "You know how eager Unit-01 is to play three card monty with peoples' souls!"

"My calculations required I physically enter the plug as well, to trigger the reshuffling process. My methodology appears somewhat off—"

"Your premise is off. I want an explanation of why you tried this insanity to begin with."

Gendo sighed. "The Third isn't filling me with confidence regarding this whole war for humanity's future. Yui is worth a thousand of him. With her as a pilot and the Third in the Eva, I'm sure we'd succeed."

"And I'm sure that was your sole motivation."

"It's in the past. We need to focus on the future."

"And how do you plan to do that, stuck in your son's body?"

"We simply need to reverse the process."

"You have a real talent for making the impossible sound achievable." Fuyutsuki rubbed his temples. "Fine. I'll contact Akagi and—"

"You will not contact Akagi. Her knowing about this could be her tipping point. We'll have to do it ourselves. More to the point," Gendo continued, "you'll have to start on your own. It's almost morning, and 'Shinji's' absence will only invite investigation from Katsuragi."

"True." He paused. "Wait. You're planning to impersonate your son until this is resolved?"

"You doubt my abilities?"

"What about him?" Fuyutsuki asked, gesturing at the Shinji in Gendo's body.

The Gendo in Shinji's body shrugged. "Lock him in the office or something. I'll leave the details to your discretion. Oh, and postpone all synch tests. Let's avoid any further complications."

With that, he left. He left, and Fuyutsuki was alone with this fresh hell. He eyed Shinji. Exiling the "Commander" to his office would only attract attention. From the staff, Rei, to say nothing of the Committee. He'd have to coach Shinji how to be like his father, at least in tiny increments, under his watchful eye. From what Fuyutsuki saw, the boy did possess a nasty violent streak. That was a start. Morphing that anger into stoic authority may prove difficult but he had to try.

He reminded himself he was a teacher once upon a time, in another life. On a different planet. With highly skilled, capable students. What waited for him now was a neglected, emotionally crippled pile of insecurities with average grades. But this was the boy Yui died for. The child she sacrificed her genius and drive for.

Fuyutsuki approached and cleared his throat. "Shinji?"

The Shinji in Gendo's body startled. "Y-Yes, sir?" he piped up, sounding like the prospect of human interaction was worse than torture.

Maybe Yui wasn't all that bright after all.

"I'm sure this situation is confusing…" he began.

"I'm more confused about why father got into the entry plug with me."

"Um, didn't he explain anything to you?"

"No," Shinji replied with a shrug. "He ordered me, so I went along with it."

"Right. Well," Fuyutsuki said, "until we can figure out this mess we'll have to pretend everything is normal. Mass panic only awaits the exposure of the truth. NERV must remain strong and focused to save the world, understand?"

"Father is going to pretend he's me?" His utter incredulity of the idea triggered further anxiety. "But what if—"

"I'm ordering you to go along with this plan."

He slumped. "… Yes, sir."

"Now then. Let's begin. As your father must assume your identity, so must you assume his. Don't panic. I'll guide you through it. Okay. You're a little pale. Sit down. Breathe. Deep breaths. In and out. I'll get some water, hold on. Shinji, calm down. I told you to breathe."

Waiting for the boy to regain himself, Fuyutsuki considered a different line of attack. Explaining why his father acted the way he did might help him understand, and thus, imitate.

"Did you notice how composed your father was, just now?"

"You mean before he left me?"

"Er, yes. It's a part of his mindset and attitude, and therefore his behavior. His calmness is a byproduct of his adaptability. He accepts reality but never stops trying to bend it to his will. In a sense, he is an optimist."

"I've never seen him smile," Shinji said.

"You're missing the point. When confronted with difficulty, even seemingly impossible odds, Gendo Ikari does not give up or run away. He patiently observes and analyzes until he can affect a beneficial change. He isn't moved by events. He moves events."

"You sound like you admire him."

"Well, I… I appreciate the position he's in. Running an organization like NERV is, shall we say, unpleasant. And to run it effectively, some behavior others may deem unpleasant is required. Meaning, you, Shinji, will need to be far less accommodating. The Commander does not serve others. He must demand the most from those under him to save humanity."

Or doom it to a mass liquidy grave. But Shinji didn't need to know everything right away.

"I'll be by your side and handle most of the actual dialogue. I need you to look threateningly impassive. Like a stray foul thought could murder whoever is addressing you. Everyone must believe their lives are dependent upon your whims."

Shinji looked worriedly appalled. Fuyutsuki frowned.

"If all else fails, don't say anything."

"Really?"

"What did I just say!?"

"Sorry!"

"And never apologize! Gendo Ikari does not apologize. Even after trampling the hopes and dreams of the innocent, do not apologize."

"But what if people get angry at me?" Shinji asked.

Fuyutsuki stared at him. "On second thought, just stay in this office. Do not come out. Do not answer any summons unless it's me or the Commander. Got it?"

He gave him a quick tour of a small hidden anteroom connected to the office, including a bathroom, bed, kitchenette and shelves of old books Gendo collected. At least the boy wouldn't waste away in here.

"If there's nothing else," Fuyutsuki said, all but sprinting to the office exit, "I have a lot of work to get to in order to remedy this predicament."

"But what about the—"

"Sorry! Can't hear you!"

The heavy double doors closed and locked. The chamber sank in silence.

Shinji Ikari was not a pragmatist. He was not an optimist, either. His life repeatedly taught him to smother any iota of positivity that arose. Getting his hopes up only made the inevitable disappointment that much worse. So he did not bother rebelling against reality, but rather settled into a familiar state of anxious despair. There was no use wishing for a speedy resolution or to awaken from this nightmare. When it all came tumbling down he would sigh, maybe spare a rueful grin and think, 'I knew it.'

Still, he'd prefer his father didn't make a complete hash of his fragile life.

/\/\/\/\

The gates rose over him like the maw of some terrible beast waiting to devour him whole. And he was forced to pass through of his own volition.

Back at school, Gendo thought. He had hoped that particular nightmare was over.

He entered the front gates of the middle school in a throng of other students, each blissfully unaware they were jostling past the man who held the fate of the world in his hands. On normal days. At the moment his hands were filled with his school bag, stealthily nabbed from the Katsuragi apartment without incident. The other residents were still asleep when he arrived and he saw no reason to amend that reprieve.

Not that he was scared. Although now that he thought of it, fear was part of Shinji's MO. Maybe he should have stayed until they saw him weeping over the stove making their breakfast. Not that he knew how to cook. And his body had forgotten how to cry.

Gendo glanced about him. The other students were ignoring him. It felt surreal to not be deferred to.

"Out of the way, shrimp."

A large boy shouldered past him, nearly knocking him to the ground as he spilled his books. Gendo picked himself up, memorizing the smirking teenager's visage. Someone's father would be getting a nice relocation to the Pole soon.

He went looking for class 2-A. Normally he had Fuyutsuki handle the labyrinthine trek through NERV, or he delegated his needs to any number of faceless underlings. Forced to rely on himself Gendo was reminded of his less than stellar sense of direction.

"Shit," he said, rounding the same school hallway corner for a third time. Not that he'd ask for directions. Gendo Ikari was never directed. He prepared to venture forth again when someone called behind him.

"Yo, Shin-man!"

He ignored it. Who designed this blasted school?

"Shin-man."

Were the water fountains multiplying or was this the same god damn hall he just walked down?

"I said, Shin-man."

A hand fell on his shoulder. Gendo reached for the holstered pistol under his left arm before remembering he was in his son's body and the public school frowned on concealed weaponry.

The hand belonged to Toji Suzuhara, one of the more disposable piloting candidates in 2-A. And friend to Shinji Ikari. Following in his wake was Kensuke Aida, more friendly cannon fodder.

"One more time," Toji said, wearing an affected grin, "yo, Shin-man."

"Don't call me that."

"You're in a good mood. I know it's a school day but come on."

"Something the matter?" Kensuke asked. His empathetic entreaty was only slightly diminished by the fact he was glued to the video screen of his camera.

"Nothing you can remedy."

"Glad that's settled," Toji said. "Let's get to homeroom before Horaki tears us a new one."

Gendo let the boys take charge. It was easy to make others feel like they were leading, when in fact they were fulfilling his desires. They reached 2-A as the class representative was calling for order prior to the bell. They entered, and someone pushed their way past, sending Gendo rattling into the door frame.

It was Asuka, delivering a lidded gaze of infinite disgust on the way to her desk. She sat, tightly crossed her arms and legs, and stared at him as he picked himself up and approached.

"So here you are, Third," she spat. "Why didn't you—"

Gendo walked past her. No wincing words of apology or deferent cringing in her direction. He strolled to his seat with a placid, almost bored expression, ignoring her completely.

The other students froze. The snub was so blatant and shocking the class simply watched what would happen next. Asuka, to her credit, appeared more surprised than offended. For a moment. Then righteous fury sprang to the surface. The natural order was disrupted and the rest of the herd needed a reminder who the alpha was.

First period bell rang and the teacher entered to find Ms. Soryu, one foot on Mr. Ikari's desk, her chair held overhead, futilely restrained by Ms. Horaki. The teacher sighed on his way to the podium. Kids these days. The vice principal's half-joke about lacing the cafeteria meals with Ritalin looked less monstrous every day.

"Ahem," he announced himself.

Asuka shot him a look that he could only describe as frustrated acquiescence. She lowered her chair and sat in it.

"Just adjusting my seat," she told him.

"Speaking of which," Kensuke said. "Uh, Shinji? You're in my desk." Gendo bothered to spare a glance in his direction, then away. Kensuke shrugged. "… Okay. I'll take yours."

"He must be having an off day," Toji muttered.

Order temporarily restored, lessons began. Upset with the recent lackluster homework turn-ins, the teacher announced a surprise math quiz. Which Gendo promptly tanked. Algebraic equations regarding hypothetical train schedules were beneath him. His calculations were of a far grander scale, like how long he could trust Fuyutsuki to keep up the charade at NERV and evade Kiel. Or currently, how to escape the wrath of the Second Child as lunch period began.

"Third!"

Asuka stormed to his adopted desk, planted a foot between his legs on the edge of his seat and glared down at him, demanding explanation for his absence that morning which resulted in negative breakfast for her. Concurrently she charged him with providing her noontime repast.

Gendo absorbed the threats and spittle. Then with a light, casual touch he held her calf and deftly brushed her away, standing in the same, smooth motion. Asuka squeaked in surprise, falling backwards on her behind as she frantically grappled her leg to her body.

"H-How dare you touch me!" she hissed at him, the venom belied by her red face and stutter.

Huh, he thought. Now he almost regretted not studying the reports Katsuragi detailed about Shinji's home life. They were all just so depressing.

"Need a hand?" Gendo asked, reaching for her before she could respond. His fingertips caressed her wrist with a silky whispering embrace.

Which left her other hand free to slap him as hard as she could muster. He let her stand, collect her wits and retreat under a thick veil of German epithets and toppled desks.

"Wow," Kensuke stated as Gendo idly wiped at his bloodied lip.

"I've had worse," he said.

"No doubt." Toji shook his head. "You sure you're okay, man?"

"A small price to pay. She stopped bothering me about food, didn't she? Let's leave before she remembers." He would endure their continued proximity as long as they led him to the cafeteria.

They arrived and ordered, and sat to eat. Realizing he'd need a way back to class, Gendo suffered them in silence. No wonder Shinji was so unhappy if this was a typical day for him. He needed a higher caliber of company in his life.

"Say," Kensuke asked him, "you've got an appointment at NERV after school, right?"

This was not the boy's usual somewhat erotic breathlessness regarding all things Eva. His voice was shrewdly calculating. Tuesdays were usually regularly scheduled synch tests but with the current situation those were cancelled.

"No," Gendo answered. "I suppose you can't sell pictures today, can you?"

Toji and Kensuke stared at him, wide-eyed. Sweat beaded their foreheads. Kensuke swallowed audibly.

While Shinji may be ignorant of it, Gendo was aware of the Aida/Suzuhara photo ring dominating the middle school's black market. The boys were, after all, potential Child candidates, and Gendo made sure to arm himself with as much potential ammo as possible to secure them. And they did associate with Shinji for some reason.

"Wh-What are you talking about?" Toji tried.

"Uh, yeah," Kensuke chimed in after an elbow to the ribs. "Selling pictures? You know I love photography but I doubt I'm good enough to—"

"The two of you coordinate to obtain covert pictures of popular girls and market them to the boys of this school. You open shop on days I'm otherwise occupied to escape my attention. Correct?"

The boys were silent, guilt staying their tongues.

"The real question," Gendo began, "is why you attempted to keep it from me."

They exchanged glances. Toji sighed.

"Um, well, we didn't know how you'd react. Like, if you'd want us to stop. We are profiting from exploiting your roommate."

"That's irrelevant. As long as the subjects remain in the dark as to the suppliers, there's no danger to us."

"Us?" Kensuke repeated. "You want in?"

The plan was spur-of-the-moment but sound. Gendo did pride himself on his adaptability. "Not exactly. Charging only money is pedestrian. Economic power is transitory. Think of how to gain on a broader scale."

"Say what?"

"What do you mean?" Realization was dawning in Kensuke.

Gendo shrugged. "Homework is tiresome. Dealing with bullies is tiresome. Going to the cafeteria to fetch your own meals is tiresome."

"You're saying…"

"… we can get our customers to do those things for us?"

The boys enjoyed an overdue epiphany.

"That's brilliant."

Gendo let them salivate over the possibilities. An illicit middle school photo ring was a far cry from a multinational organization deciding mankind's future, but it was a start. As long as he was stuck in his son's barely life, he'd make the most of it. It might even develop Shinji into something worthy of attention.

"Dude," Toji said, clapping him on the back, "I don't know what side of the bed you woke up on this morning, but please, keep doing it."

"Agreed, one thousand percent."

Gendo frowned. Some friends. Then again, Shinji wasn't the type to engender loyalty, either out of fondness or fear. How did he live this long?

The boys fell to planning their futures, entertaining all manner of fantastical whimsies. Gendo let them expend their initial excitement with a patience borne of practice. The seed was planted. That was enough for now. In time he would assume command as he always did. Besides, hearing them strategize gave him more information about their operation. Granted, most of it boiled down to snapping stealthy shots of distracted girls, but it was data he would adapt to his own needs.

"How many pictures of Ayanami do you sell?" Gendo asked them, suddenly curious.

"Huh? Uh, none, man."

"Halloween is coming up, but still."

It took all of his teen hormone-infused will power not to punch the two out.

/\/\/\/\

Shinji spent the morning gazing over the spines of the private library his father possessed, stubbornly impressed by the breadth of subjects and languages. He tried a tome on astrophysics and became achingly depressed after the first paragraph. This was far above his intellectual clearance level, as Asuka liked to say. He doubted she would be able to make heads or tails of it.

Maybe father really was intelligent, Shinji thought. He must have abandoned his emotions to make room for cold knowledge.

As he perused the books he was also subconsciously searching for proof of humanity from Gendo. This was basically his room, his sanctuary, a reflection of his innermost self. There had to be something here to confirm his link to the human race. To mother, though he said he destroyed all her pictures. To Shinji himself, though he acted otherwise.

It was mid-afternoon before he ventured out into the office proper. The library was dense with literature but it was all coldly detached facts. The kitchen was barebones and stocked with nothing but bland ready-made frozen meals and instant coffee. The bedroom was a slim cot. It was like his father despised being human at all.

The rest of the office cemented that feeling. Only the desk shadowed by the towering windows overlooking the Geofront met him. No couches or end tables for visitors' convenience, nothing but stark, oppressive authority. Even the desk was an austere reminder of its owner, no knickknacks or novelty calendar to lighten the mood.

Shinji sat at the desk. The chair was nice, expensively rich leather. But it was stiff, and the posture was set immaculately high. It was a struggle to find any kind of comfort. After a moment to overcome his conscience he tried each drawer. A phone with intercom. A laptop locked by password. More books. An antique shogi board.

He slouched over the desk in defeat. No hidden family photos salvaged from their deserted old home. No memories secreted away from the rest of the world. No proof he ever loved anyone, or was worthy of love.

The reflected sun of the Geofront slipped low behind him. Everything was deep twilight orange. Shinji gripped the desk to push himself away and felt a concealed button on the underside. Without thinking he pushed it. A seamless panel on the top flipped up with a retinal scanner. After a quick sweep a hidden compartment opened at his side.

In the half second it took to turn to it he let his hopes rise. Surely, here was the proof he sought. Here was the secret, warm heart Gendo Ikari kept buried under mountains of ice. Shinji looked into the compartment.

Inside was a pistol with two spare magazines.

He crawled onto the cot and pulled the flat pillow over his head. Shinji took minor solace that he was merely cripplingly depressed and not moved to tears. For some strange reason, he didn't think his father could cry at all.

/\/\/\/\

The Section car Gendo commandeered to get to school was the same one he used to return to the Katsuragi apartment. The agents looked askew at him but in the end they did as they were told. If anything they should be thankful for the minor burst of stimulation in their otherwise mind numbing jobs of watching the Third Child.

Given the traffic in the city proper, he arrived home after Asuka. Who had recovered sufficiently from the lunchtime encounter and was back to hurling phlegmy insults his way regarding meal preparation. He checked the chore schedule. There was a definite preponderance of "Shinji" scrawled over it, including that night. He recognized the Major's sloppy shorthand.

Cooking was not one of the many skills he acquired in his trip to the top of the totem pole. Delegation, manipulation, seduction and mad gun skills? Absolutely. Even Yui, who could force atoms to dance to her will, was hopeless in the kitchen. How and why Shinji picked up such a mundane ability was both puzzling and disappointing.

Gendo picked up the phone and thumbed through the directory for a delivery restaurant.

"Try again," Asuka growled, hanging up for him.

He overheard rumors from Ritsuko about the Major's diet but was glad to find shelves of instant food greeting him when he opened the cabinet.

"What are you doing?" Misato asked.

He paused in taking out a cup noodle. "Making dinner."

"No, no; that's my stash. Besides, you and Asuka said you hate the stuff." She squinted away. "Feh. Kids these days. Don't know what good is."

"Start cooking already, Third!" Asuka yelled at him.

Remembering he was indeed "Shinji" for the moment, he turned to the stove. How hard could it be, anyway? If Shinji did it, certainly he could. His unparalleled adaptability had guided him to success thus far.

Several beers by the Major and several dozen insults by Asuka later, he served the rice and beans. Asuka dived headfirst into her plate. She stopped to discreetly gag into a napkin.

"This is awful," she managed, more in surprise than outrage.

"It's… different," Misato said between desperate gulps of beer.

"One off day is excusable. For the normal, mouth-breathing masses. You're a Child. You're not allowed to lose skill in the one thing you're half-decent at."

His skills were more varied and diverse than she could imagine. Gendo spared a frown at his meal. It did taste bad. Maybe microwaving the rice was a mistake. "You clearly do not know me."

"Why would I want to know you?" she shot back.

"You spend enough time looking for me."

Asuka rattled the table as she pushed herself up. "Because no one else calls you out for your nonsense and laziness!" She hurled a glare at Misato, who was busy emptying another can of beer into her gullet. "See? You've been awfully uppity today, Third. I won't stand idly by while we suffer your mood swings."

Gendo rose from the table, deposited his dishes in the washer, and headed out of the kitchen.

"Hey!" Asuka cried, blocking his way. "Where do you think you're going—"

"Bed," he said. He stretched, gently flexing his fingers before her. "I'm tired."

She watched his hands with a twitching left eye. She gulped.

"Is there a problem?"

"N-No, no," she muttered absently. She shook her anger back in place but he was already past her, down the hall. "No, there is a problem! You can't—"

He carefully straightened the plaque on Asuka's door, letting his fingers glide down its smooth frame.

"You, um…"

He leaned towards it. He pursed his lips. He lightly blew away a mote of dust. Asuka watched with rapt awareness. So much so, she failed to stop him from heading to Shinji's room and shutting the door behind him.

Gendo rolled his eyes. Teenagers.

He surveyed the bedroom. It was too organized. It looked like a small, cheap movie set. Everything was neatly tucked away in its proper place, arranged by size and name. What little there was. The bulk of the possessions were school-related supplies. It reminded him of Rei's apartment, minus the blood stains and vermin.

Shinji did know he had a NERV stipend, right? Was Katsuragi "managing" that for him? The impoverished desolation was remarkable, as if he was afraid to mark the room as his own. The only hint of character was the cello propped up in the corner. Any satisfaction at knowing Shinji kept at the instrument was smothered by the grim reality it failed to better him as a human being.

Gendo checked his phone. No messages from Fuyutsuki yet. He briefly indulged himself in wondering how long the situation would last. He wasn't worried about his end; Soryu and Katsuragi were easily controllable. But NERV Commander's responsibilities were never-ending and constant. Not that Fuyutsuki was incapable but the man was pushing seventy and had the unfortunate habit of socializing with the underlings. Some people were just so determined to look and feel human.

He sat on the bed, disappointed in how yielding it was. Shinji needed to toughen up. Relaxing on feathery down was not doing the job. He reclined onto the pillow and turned toward the nightstand. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at.

Gendo hadn't seen his old SDAT player since before Unit-01's contact experiment. He stole it from a convenience store in middle school, and enjoyed it through college. Involvement with SEELE limited time to satisfy his appreciation for music and the SDAT wound up occupying an old shoebox in the back of their closet. Shinji must have found it before moving.

He slipped on the earbuds. The player was nicked and scratched, the button symbols faded from wear. He turned it on and music he hadn't heard in years drifted through him. He felt young again, ancient memories he worked hard to smother bobbing to the surface. He used to ride the rails for hours to avoid returning home, listening to the same songs over and over. He used to hide in his room and max out the volume so he wouldn't hear his parents fight. The songs became a predictable, stable friend. A distraction from harsh reality.

The minutes ticked by. Gendo stared down at the SDAT, clutched by Shinji's slender hand.

Wow, he thought with a dawning realization. I have always had excellent taste in music.

/\/\/\/\

Shinji woke in a groggy twilight mess. Most nights he drifted off to sleep listening to his SDAT, waiting for the repeated songs to smother his anxieties. With nothing but silence every creak of the cot as he shifted to find some measure of comfort, every inhalation, was like fireworks blasting by his head. He must have forgot to charge the battery again, he mused as he forced himself to sit up. It was a school day, and breakfast needed making.

He rubbed his sleepy eyes. And panicked.

I can't feel my face! Shinji looked down at his gloved, burned hands. Oh, right. I'm father now.

The thought was terrifyingly depressing. He buried his head back under the pillow.

Shinji woke later in a groggy twilight mess. Sleep remained a troubled affair. How did father rest without distraction from his thoughts? Certainly, Gendo Ikari had plenty to feel guilty about. Maybe it was something adults grew out of. NERV wasn't shy about using children to further its existence. Was it a lesson they took from the Commander?

Shinji lugged himself off the cot. And walked into a bookcase. He blindly found Gendo's glasses. The world became orange-tinted and clear. Recalling he was confined to the office he sought out the kitchenette for a meal.

It was odd to think about his father eating food like a normal person. He didn't sustain himself on spite and parental neglect, after all. Just a mini fridge full of bland premade meals and bottled water.

Wow, Shinji thought. This made Misato look like an accomplished international chef. His father was subsisting on the bare necessities here. No care for variation or flavor. Did living alone in a hidden offshoot of your office make you give up on being human? Or was he already devoid of humanity?

Shinji peeled open one of the rations. Somehow, this made him more disappointed in his father than the gun or emotional blackmail to make his son pilot. This was like self-abuse.

He ate the tasteless ration in the quiet of the cavernous office, alone. He dared to wonder how long this would continue.

/\/\/\/\

Four days of not-so-gentle coaxing from Gendo had transformed the Aida/Suzuhara photo ring from a shadowy, ragtag fiscal collection of deviants into an organizational powerhouse that controlled the middle school student economy. Aida kept surprisingly detailed records of sales so customer names were easy to find and exploit. A clientele-wide email alerted them to new lower prices combined with even more daring candid shots. It was almost embarrassing how quickly demand outweighed supply. Photos became a hot commodity. Patrons competed to win favor. Gifts poured in, ranging from the mundane wads of cash, to prewritten essays for school, to electronic merchandise and movie passes, to open-ended offers of servitude. All the while Gendo made carefully vague, public inquiries to clients about their recent purchases, blithely oblivious to female and faculty presence, letting the boys know he owned them now. Tokyo-3 municipal public middle school had been reshaped into NERV 2.0.

"Wow," Toji summarized, watching as a group of boys hurried off during lunch period to fetch them their meals, free of charge.

"Yeah," Kensuke agreed, accepting finished term papers from another set.

The pair was still in shock over the changes, which they initially objected to, until Gendo gently wondered aloud how long he could keep the operation secret from Asuka. That specter proved an amazing motivator. Now they had no choice but to bend to Gendo's will. It was good to be king, even in the concrete zoo of a middle school.

"I guess the riskier shots and sale prices were worth it," Kensuke finally admitted.

"Sorry we doubted you."

Gendo bore their penitence with stoicism. "All I ask is that you learn from your mistakes."

"Oh, uh, y-yeah."

His cell buzzed. A glance told him who was calling. "I need to take this. When I return we'll discuss how else you need to educate yourselves."

He travelled to the abandoned school roof, walking to the far railing to look out over his city. It was a different view than the Geofront panorama, less controlled, less organized, less directly under his thumb, but it remained his. He spoke into the phone.

"Update," Gendo greeted.

"I'm making headway, somehow," Fuyutsuki reported. "Between your original notes and my secret sojourns with the MAGI I believe the process can indeed be reversed."

"When?"

"The timetables I put together are unreliable. We could try as soon as next week but there are so many variables, and I admit I'm not the best candidate to spearhead this."

"No Akagi."

"Fine. But don't blame me if the next experiment shoots your soul into a coffee machine or something." He sighed over the line. "In the end, success and failure may be decided by the Eva."

Not the analysis he wanted. "Schedule the reversal as soon as possible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have biology in five minutes."

He turned to head back inside for afternoon classes. Not that he wanted or needed to anymore, but those clouds over the horizon looked a bit threatening. He stopped, finding Rei Ayanami at the door to the stairwell. Gendo tucked his phone away and approached. A spark of idle curiosity flickered to life in him regarding how his pet project acted in his absence. He was almost savoring the silent disregard he expected to receive. It would be proof the years of conditioning were successful, that she was his, through and through.

"Ikari," Rei spoke, "you are not behaving like yourself."

Gendo managed not to trip over his own feet. That Rei would initiate conversation, let alone show concern over what she expected from Shinji, was astounding. What had been going on between these two?

He stared at her for a long moment. "You think so?"

"Yes."

She watched him, he knew. He chalked it up to Shinji being a massive liability for NERV. But she was able to detect a difference in conduct since the transfer, even with his acting ability. Gendo failed not to be impressed.

"Your concern is unwarranted. Teenagers are known for mood swings and personality experimentation. I decided to make the most of my environment." There. That sounded enough like Shinji, right?

He considered just leaving to end the encounter but the only exit was behind Rei. She wasn't blocking the door; she was simply standing before it. But even that may be a subconscious desire to keep his son from departing. She knew Shinji wouldn't physically accost her, thus, he was stuck on the roof with her until she deemed otherwise. Ingenious of her to corner him here, really. He taught her well.

Rei watched him with patient dejection.

"You are different," she stated.

Was that a hint of sadness in her tone? What the shit? For someone else to affect her this way was unacceptable.

"Rei," he said. Gendo thought he detected a twitch of reaction in her left eyebrow. Or it was just the wind. He briefly debated how to phrase it, and opted for conciseness. "I am not Shinji Ikari. I'm the Commander. I have switched bodies with the Third Child."

"I do not believe you," she said.

Of course she doesn't, he thought, irrationally proud of the coldly logical husk he created. She'd require proof of such an outrageous claim. "You possess my old glasses I damaged during Unit-00's activation test."

"That is information you could have inferred."

"You're an Angel/human hybrid I designed to serve my wishes until I initiate Third Impact."

"That is an educated guess."

"When you were seven years old I caught you stealing a Hello Kitty plush toy from Lieutenant Ibuki's locker. I made you destroy it."

"Commander, sir," Rei said, snapping to attention. "Forgive me for doubting you."

There. All better. The twinge of emotion evoked for Shinji was erased. His good soldier was back. And it was probably best to clue her in. He gained another ally during this mess and prevented her from thinking too much. Thinking begot investigation, which begot interaction, which begot other troubling things. While conniving to draw Shinji closer to Rei was not an alien thought, her doing so on her own was worrying.

"You cannot always trust your eyes," he counseled, almost casually.

"Yes, sir."

"For now, continue on as if everything is normal. The Sub-Commander is handling things at NERV but the fewer who know of the truth the better. Consider this priority top secret."

"Sir." Rei shifted. "When will Ikari return to his body?"

"The procedure is next week. Why?"

"It is… disconcerting speaking with you like this."

The roof exit door flew open. Asuka emerged, barreling past Rei to jam a finger at Gendo's chest.

"So here you are, Third! Sneaking off for some spooky time with the First? How dare you when I'm going without lunch, yet again—"

He stepped towards her until her fingers rested over his bare collarbone. She went red and retracted her hand, stuttering vague allusions to his stupidity and impudence.

Getting real tired of this, he thought. He was past the novelty of her teenage frustrations.

"Here," he said. He produced his wallet. He cradled her hand with his and placed a few bills into it. "This should be enough."

Asuka grabbed his wrist, preventing him from withdrawing. The other waffled behind her in the early stages of a slap. She wore a crimson face of enraged elation. Her teeth ground together audibly. Gendo gave her a lidded stare of exhaustion as she mentally worked out what sort of pounding she wanted more.

"What are you doing?" Rei asked her.

"What!?" Asuka sprang free and held her hands over her head, remembering they weren't alone. "I, uh… what!?"

The bell for afternoon classes rang. Gendo reminded them it was time for biology, causing Asuka to sputter again. Rei gave the impression of a shrug and returned to 2-A with him: not like she needed the lessons but orders were orders. They left the roof as the clouds opened up to a downpour.

Asuka stood in the rain. She realized she missed lunch again.

"… What?"

/\/\/\/\

Shinji rechecked the wares again. His father's office kitchenette was still out of food. Every attempt to contact the Sub-Commander on the office phone was blithely ignored. Shinji couldn't be positive but he thought he detected a degree of satisfaction in telling him to stay off the line while he worked. Surely, Fuyutsuki wasn't savoring the opportunity to order Gendo Ikari around. He was a mature, responsible adult. Who abandoned him like his father did.

Shinji unlocked the office door.

The hallway beyond was long and dark, and devoid of vending machines. He wandered down it until he found a sleek elevator. He stepped in and pushed for the fifth floor cafeteria. Nothing happened, even after repeated attempts. Had Fuyutsuki disabled it?

He noticed a small lens mounted above the floor buttons. He leaned down to see it better and a red laser flashed across his face. With a soft beep, the elevator doors slid shut and it descended to floor five.

At least another gun didn't pop out.

Shinji stepped out onto a far better lit passage, back in the base he knew. The few NERV technicians he did spy all quickly spun on their heels to avoid him. Instead of the expected dejection he felt relief. An unobstructed path to and from the cafeteria was a boon. No one to talk to meant no one to discover his true identity. He hoped his father somehow managed not to rock the boat, too.

"Commander!"

Shit, Shinji thought.

He turned. Cresting the corner to the cafeteria entrance was Ritsuko Akagi, eyes wide.

"Dr. Akagi…" he began on dumb instinct.

"Where have you been?" she interrupted. "It's been days."

Shinji guessed telling her he was ordered to purposefully avoid everyone wouldn't go over well. He glanced about them; not a soul within eyeshot. No distractions, no help coming to the rescue. He supposed their respective reputations preceded them.

"The Sub-Commander told us you were laid-up at home." Ritsuko shook her head. "And yet here you are at HQ, flying under the radar to work on your own? How long have you been here? Why are you here?" He was silent, and she snorted in derision. "Won't tell me?"

Shinji Ikari had wrestled giant monsters in life-or-death battles that had sent him to the ER on numerous occasions. But his greatest struggle was not apologizing to Ritsuko at that moment.

"I can't," he said instead.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then keep your secrets. That isn't new." She sighed away a degree of bitterness. "At least tell me you won't overwork yourself. Get some rest if you're feeling ill."

"… I will."

Huh, Shinji mused. With his father's voice even uncertainty sounded like a paramilitary command during a battle.

Ritsuko eyed the content of his response, surprised he took her advice. "You must be ill," she murmured. "I am a doctor, you know. I have medical training." She reached up and checked his forehead with the back of her hand.

Shinji froze. Ritsuko realized what she was doing.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered. She withdrew her hand and hid it. "I should know better. I'm not your doctor. I should know the line between professional and private by now." Her cheeks were dusted with red.

Dr. Akagi is a girl!? Shinji thought. He watched her embarrassed shame, her humiliated disappointment. Dr. Akagi is a girl.

She backed away, averting her eyes. She looked like she wanted to crawl into a dark pit and die. Shinji knew that desire.

"Dr. Akagi."

Despite herself she stopped and stood in place before him, resigned to the reprimand she knew she deserved.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her, gesturing to the cafeteria.

Ritsuko stared at him. She inhaled sharply and her body, her face, her eyes, her spirit lifted above the Geofront. She smiled. Not the cynical, smug grin Shinji saw her wear in the past. This was a bright, wondering, wondrous private treasure. He was too stunned to return it.

She nodded, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "I am."

/\/\/\/\

"I am hungry," Asuka announced.

It was evening. She and Misato lounged at their apartment kitchen table as Gendo looked over the counter and stove, mentally demanding supper make itself. It was Shinji's turn to cook, it felt like it was always Shinji's turn to cook, and the previous days' mealtime debacles had yet to dissuade the other residents of the apartment to take up the apron themselves.

"I said I am hungry."

When wasn't she? Gendo produced a loaf of bread from a drawer. "Then eat."

She hurled it back at him, which he deftly caught. "I am sick of you phoning it in these past few days, Third. Suddenly deciding to suck at cooking isn't going to get you out of your responsibilities. Get better now."

"We should renegotiate the chore allocation," he told Misato. "It's uneven."

"Sorry, all job distributions are final. Besides, you said you liked making food for us."

What is wrong with that boy? Gendo thought. He deigned to thumb through Shinji's collection of recipes stored over the stove, hoping for something fast and easy.

"Actually consulting a cookbook?" Misato wondered aloud. "I thought you were some manner of self-learning cooking computer."

"He has been distracting lately," Asuka mused. "I mean, distracted."

"That he has…"

He settled on soup and stir fry vegetables. He burned both. He covered with an abundance of spices and herbs he had no familiarity with. His roommates looked on with naked suspicion. At least the bird had learned its lesson after the first day and refused to exit its refrigerator when Gendo was around.

"Here," he announced, dropping the charred, smoking remains of supper on the table.

Peering at him the whole time, Asuka sampled a spoonful of soup. Her eyes watered as she grimaced. "This tastes like hot bile. How can someone's ability deteriorate so much so quickly?"

"It's… different," Misato said again. She reached for a fresh six pack.

Gendo felt genuine confusion. Until he recalled this did not matter in the least. Kiel wouldn't be holding a cooking competition to decide Third Impact once the Angels were defeated. Shinji's capability to combine ingredients wouldn't earn him the right to see Yui again.

"… so disappointing," Asuka was still talking. "Like, you decided to give up the one thing that gave your existence here any merit." She sighed in defeat. "I guess I have no choice but to whip you back into shape myself. Tomorrow after school we're coming straight home and you're going to make food for me until you get good again. It's a sacrifice to give up my Saturday to spend time with you, true, but I have no choice."

"I'll pass on the date," Gendo said. "I like older women."

Asuka gaped in offended shock. Misato's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.

"Y-Yeah, well, I like older guys!"

"Makes sense," he replied. "They might have more patience for your ludicrous need to prove your imagined maturity."

Like a flash of light on the horizon during a nuclear test, he saw the explosion coming before feeling it. Rage burned in her eyes. Her hands curled into knuckle-popping fists. Asuka took a swing at him.

Gendo caught it. And ran a flicker of terror through her fury with a single word: "Don't."

She recovered admirably, retracting her fist, slapping her burnt dinner onto the kitchen floor, hurling a few curses at him and the world, and stomping off to her room. Gendo calmly poked at his meal.

Misato's eyebrows descended. "Shinji," she began, "you have been acting different lately."

"Have I?"

"Ever since last week…" She peered at him with deadly seriousness. "You didn't go to Suzuhara's house that night, did you? You went someplace you didn't want me to know about. These past few days you've been acting just like…"

Uh oh.

"… like you got lucky." Misato's face broke into a devil's leer at the final word. "So, that's it! You got yourself a little girlfriend and decided to act more manly for her. How adorable. But you're still young. Don't move too fast. I could give you some tips, you know. Ooh, I have to know who it is. Details! Details!"

My head strategist, Gendo lamented. "You are mistaken. Nothing has changed."

"No, no; you are acting unusual. I'm all for personal growth but don't lose sight of yourself." She sobered. "Don't grow up too fast, okay? I'd miss my Shinji. And not just for the cooking."

That sounded remarkably heartfelt, he thought. Katsuragi must truly be damaged if she liked Shinji as he was. Seeing potential was one thing but settling for his son's subpar self was another.

"Did you mean it?" she suddenly asked.

"Yes. You remain mistaken."

"No. About you liking older women."

The coy tone she employed was an obvious ruse but Gendo indulged her. He leaned over the table and reached out to her. For her part, Misato did not move besides an amused eyebrow.

He dabbed a dirty corner of her mouth with a napkin. "I would never lie about that." He sat back.

Misato burst out laughing. "Ooh, Shinji," she purred, fanning herself. "I'll definitely have to keep a closer eye on you."

Gendo shook his head at the marvelous job she was already doing. Trying to reduce himself to emulate Shinji was a monumental effort. Thankfully no one but Rei seemed to notice the disparity. He could only imagine the chaos at NERV if his son tried adopting his role.

/\/\/\/\

Shinji sat on the cot in his father's makeshift bedroom, trying to find a book to read that wasn't post-grad level or above. There were a lot of art collections from around the world but he could only appreciate the craft of the masters so many times. He settled on a volume of poetry. At least he'd recognize most of the words.

The cot groaned and creaked under his weight as he attempted to relax. Shinji refused to sit anywhere near the desk in the office. He supposed Gendo did indeed need protection, he didn't seem to be the type to engender friendship, but he had a literal army of burly, armed Section agents to hide behind. Deep underground in a labyrinthine fortress in an office only accessible by retinal-scanning elevators protected by building-sized giant robots. Who was threatening him through all of that?

The office doors opened. Someone was halfway across the chamber before Shinji managed to stand and peek out of the anteroom.

"Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki?" he wondered aloud.

Normally a study in grandfatherly patience to the members of NERV, Kozo's mad dash towards Shinji took him aback. He hesitated to even ask what was wrong, instead waiting while the older man doubled over before him to catch his breath.

"What…" Fuyutsuki finally got out, "… did you… do to… Akagi?"

"Dr. Akagi? Wh-What do you mean?"

"I mean when I came in this morning she was all but skipping down the halls. She was humming a jaunty tune. She was happy, for God's sake. Only two things would affect her that drastically. The Commander paying attention to her or Doctor Sprinkles the Science Kitten getting a new season on television. And since I didn't see Ibuki cosplaying as a feline with a radiometer this morning that only leaves the former."

"Um…"

"Tell me you didn't leave this office."

"Um…"

"What did you do!?"

"I sort of ran out of food and went to the cafeteria and ran into Dr. Akagi and one thing led to another and—"

"Oh my God," Fuyutsuki groaned. "You slept with her."

"What!?" Shinji went bright red. "O-Of course not! We just had dinner and talked."

"Oh my God," Fuyutsuki groaned. "You had dinner and talked with her. That's even worse."

"How is that worse!?"

"Have you learned nothing about being your father?" The Sub-Commander massaged his temples. "Giving hope to the hopeless. Forget it. I'll have to deal with this fire, too, somehow. Can you just stay out of trouble for the weekend?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your father and I have scheduled the reversal experiment for Monday morning. With a little luck you'll be returned to your own body and we can all forget about this debacle. Things will be back to normal."

Good, Shinji thought, unable to restrain a rush of relief.

Fuyutsuki went over a few details about when and where the procedure was to take place, and left with another desperate plea not to leave the office again even if it spontaneously burst into flames.

Good, he thought again, alone in the anteroom.

Shinji picked up the poetry book and skimmed to a random page. He read, trying to absorb the abstract meaning hidden within the verse.

Just a little longer. He could hold out until Monday. Then this strange, surreal nightmare within a nightmare would end and things would return to normal. Like the Sub-Commander said, they could all wipe it from their memories.

Good.

He looked away from the poem.

It was good, right? Normal was good. He'd be back at school and Misato's apartment, back with people who didn't abandon him on a whim. Back to waiting on a razor's edge for the next Angel attack, back to piloting Eva. Back to creeping around the base, blindly hoping for the moment his father decided to become a father and say a kind word in his direction.

All of that was normal. All of that would be normal if he forgot the past week. Shinji realized he didn't care for that normal very much. He didn't want to return to it.

Certainly, he wanted his own body back. He had his fill of Gendo's ruined hands, scratchy beard, terrible eyesight and suspect prostate. To say nothing of his Spartan living conditions and ineptitude at stocking a proper kitchen. But the life that waited for him wasn't one he looked forward to. It was scary and painful and lonely and pitiful. Literally being in someone else's shoes helped him see how much he was lacking. He also realized how much his father lacked.

He looked over Gendo's room; the sober library, the barebones kitchen, the narrow bathroom, all carefully hidden from public sight, all restrained and self-denying even in secret. It was like his father was trying to cast away his humanity, and was ashamed of what little remained. Was being human, filled with human emotions and needs, that much of a burden? Would getting rid of that make him feel better? Would it make him content? Independent?

But Gendo didn't seem content. And if he was truly independent he wouldn't seek the guidance of Fuyutsuki, or the knowledge of Ritsuko, or the collective strength of NERV. Or even, in a way, his son's ability to pilot Eva.

Shinji realized his father had not mastered living as he once thought. He always imagined reaching adulthood meant instant maturity and the dissolution of childhood anxieties. He'd be confident, strong, and happy. Living with Misato, he should have known better. But adults were just as screwed up as kids. Age didn't bring magic self-assurance. Grown-ups were trying to figure out themselves and others, same as children.

Teetering on the cusp of absolute despair, Shinji hesitated. Then why did they keep trying? What made the struggle worth fighting? It had to be more than getting out of school. It had to be more than the legal right to consume alcohol like Misato and Kaji, or seeing adult films like Kensuke and Toji aspired to. The answer must be elusive, or obscure, or easily missed.

It must be an answer Gendo gave up looking for. His solution was to stop trying, to sever himself as much as possible from the rest of the human race, even as he needed them.

The thought made Shinji, for the briefest of moments, pity his father.

He gazed up at the ceiling, looking through Gendo's orange glasses, laying on his tiny, uncomfortable cot, and wondered at the revelation of empathy.

/\/\/\/\

The base was sparsely occupied. Creative scheduling manipulation offered a gap of time to conduct the reversal experiment with minimal personnel. Like the previous test Gendo administered, only a handful of techs, their allegiances extending as far as the Commander's wallet, were on site. Most of the heavy lifting was handled by the MAGI, with Fuyutsuki overseeing the process from Unit-01's cage control room.

"All systems nominal," he reported over the intercom in the changing room. "We're actually ahead of schedule. The operation can be moved up by four minutes. Awaiting your order, Commander."

Gendo sealed the plug suit at his wrist and tapped the intercom. "Make it so. We'll be there."

His tone indicated Shinji should hurry the hell up on his side of the partition. Donning a heavily modified suit with his eyes tightly shut was not conducive to an accelerated timetable. Bathing and trips to the toilet were likewise completed over the last week in the dark. He prayed this was not a grim preview of the future.

Gendo shook his head. "If you require aid I'll summon a Section agent—"

"Done."

Shinji stepped around the partition and looked down at his father. He hid a frown. Did I always look that malnourished? Sudden worries about the state of the Katsuragi household gripped him.

They headed out to the umbilical bridge. Unit-01's face was tilted down, its chin submerged in LCL, to allow access to the plug hatch. The entry plug itself was suspended on a separate overpass above, where they were headed. Once in, they would synchronize and Fuyutsuki would trigger the body swap. Hopefully. The briefing was concise to allay panic, but now Shinji wondered if it was simply because they had no idea what they were doing. He wiped a few beads of sweat from under his glasses.

They continued, until Gendo paused halfway across the bridge. He peered at the visage of Unit-01 in silence.

Shinji held back, watching him for a moment. He stepped forward.

"Father."

Gendo looked up at him, deigning to acknowledge his presence.

His father, the pinnacle of unfeeling, isolated strength still depended on others, as others depended on him as Commander of NERV. Within that web of interdependence they sought to define themselves and each other. Alone, they wouldn't be able to do that. Alone, they would be less powerful. They would be less.

Shinji did not want to follow his father in discarding humanity. To give up and treat others so unkindly, when they were trying to find their own answers, was beyond cruel. Gendo was cruel to everyone, even himself. That didn't excuse him for Shinji, but it pulled him a step towards understanding him. And he understood he did not want to live that kind of life.

He met Gendo's gaze. Shinji smiled.

"I'm ready."

/\/\/\/\

End

Author notes: Got preachy there at the end, didn't it? I did try to label this a dramedy, though.

I think the initial premise is more humorous than the actual execution. Oh well.