Ten days since the great rescue, Ayumi appreciated her mother and grandmother even more. Against all odds, her whole family had survived the invasion. Maybe not unscathed, but very much present. Nearly anyone over the age of twenty five had lingering, undeniable memories of Second Impact, and the awful humanitarian crises and struggle to survive. At the same time, they brought with them so many hard-learned lessons that made enduring the current situation that much more manageable. How to cook a filling stew, get the most out of lean supplies. Resilience in the face of overwhelming hardship.
Men and women, teenagers, children, elderly and all came together under the shared burdens, supporting each other with blankets and charity. The human spirit could handle natural disaster, or the injustice that people and nations could throw at each other. Ayumi cringed into her shoulders when someone nearby coughed too loud. That same spirit was not meant to endure concerted, inhuman torture.
For most of the refugees, the Geofront was too loud. In her case, almost loud enough to drown out the pounding blood in her ears. Ayumi had woken up with a scream in her throat most nights, and what sleep she had gotten proved to be light and fitful.
Oh, there were ways around it- thaumaturgy pressure points and hugs from her mother, but the wear and tear was plain on her face. On all their faces. Tears had carved two trenches down her cheeks, collecting grime and salty trails that stubbornly resisted the brief showers. Water wasn't being rationed, but they didn't have enough facilities to go around. And on top of that, she was not alone in the strain or misery. People who had gotten closest to the invaders lived in the Geofront with a haunted, hunted look in their eye. A wariness that had them jumping at shadows and keeping hands close to loved ones or weapons. Civilian, soldier, NERV technician- all were worn thin and frayed.
Ayumi hauled herself upright and slapped her face, dragging her fingers down her cheeks and letting out a muffled curse. Tent cities were starting to spring up all around Central Dogma, where most of the non-essential civilians had been quietly pushed aside. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she turned. One of The Geofront medics recoiled, stepping hot-iron quick away from the other man's snarl. As the days wore on, more and more of the refugees eyed the strange magical treatments sidelong, hesitant and wary. The logical, experienced voice in Ayumi's head reminded her that she knew better than most how much magic pervaded their lives- her life in particular. Knowing that, she still could not silence the awful, shrill panic that ate her nerves.
The medic and his patient were shouting now, the former cashier shot upright with his fists clenched, eyes wide and raging breath. Ayumi counted two heartbeats before the first punch was throne, and sighed when the impromptu military police pushed through the growing crowds to end the surging conflict. Fights over treatment had happened before, and they would happen again.
She looked up past the tree line, at Central Dogma's damaged main pyramid. Unit-01 had been pulled out of the building, but for most, the terror still lingered.
* * *
It had taken a few days, after Shinji asked a few clerks and aides to help him sort through the refugee census data. Hikari had been a big help as well, as she naturally gravitated towards Class 2-A. From there her authority started to extend into other classes and the greater school population. Gradually, bit by bit, they were identifying every refugee, re-uniting families and friends. But for every victory and reunion, a dozen or more husbands, wives, parents, sons and daughters were confronted with the harsh truth that someone hadn't made it. There was nothing left to bring back, or if anything, nothing human.
Nanba Kasumi had made it though. As had more than a few of her cohorts from the Shinto shrine club, like Kikuchi Ami. Having located them on paper, it was much easier to find them in person. The shrine club had actually... Thrived was not the right word- weathered the storm better than most. It was a local, understandable example of the trend the JSSDF noticed on their trek towards Tokyo-3. When he found their dense collection of tents, Kasumi looked up at him and pushed her recently-shorn hair back out of some long habit. Cut down to an inch, it was much easier to manage in the camps. Ami dodged that particular hassle with a no-nonsense bun.
"Ikari...sama?" Kasumi blinked, before bowing, much lower than she really needed to. She didn't say much more, and Shinji was fairly certain she didn't want to fall into a trap of crediting him for miracles or her survival... despite significant evidence implying he might very well have. He certainly appreciated that.
"Nanba-san, Kuchiki-san." He offered them both the most winsome smile he could muster, which had a considerable effect to say the least. He took a seat, noting the rest of the shrine club and more than a few new faithful poked their heads out of nearby tents. "I'm glad you're all right-"
"Sonova- Rei was right!" And there was Asuka barging in, tone high and teasing, wearing borrowed sweats and her leather jacket. "You do have a cult!"
Nanba cringed with a sense of good-humor, but smiled gamely. "I.. It's not really a cult. Shinto is-"
"It's okay, I was just joking." Asuka stopped held a hand against the beret she'd borrowed from Misato, but Shinji could tell when her ears twitched. "When I heard he was looking for you, I just wanted to see for myself."
Shinji just rolled his eyes and let out a playful little sigh, before giving Nanba-san a put upon look, saying more with his brief expression than most epic poems. Asuka for her part made a grand show of not noticing and obligingly letting him speak. Friendship was going to be interesting to say the least...
Focusing back on the matter at hand, Shinji cast about for something to do and spied a fire pit set up between the tents. Woodcraft was a good segue into what he wanted to know, so he grabbed some kindling and branches before sitting down on a felled log bench. "If you haven't heard, a lot of people who... handled our situation had stumbled onto some kind of protective habit or ritual."
Nanba and Kikuchi both nodded, as more of the group started to gather around the impromptu lecture. Asuka plopped down next to him, eye on the fire pit and listening intently.
He started arranging the logs just so, into the most auspicious manner. In any practical sense, it was the same advanced technique as proper wilderness survival, but he knew just enough about will and magic to make it more than that- if only by comparison. "Like Misato- that is to say Major Katsuragi- her pet devised a warding method against the invaders."
"For context, Misato's pet is a genetically modified Penguin and is likely a genius." Asuka clarified. "By human standards."
"Right-" Shinji smiled thinly as he fashioned a fire bow from some string. "It ranged from stuff like people staying indoors in their owned homes to singing songs about making the rain go away."
Nanba-san nodded. "There's a.. Feeling though, a sense that you did something, when the ritual worked."
"That's right- one of the basic requirements of Thaumaturgy is that you must have will." Shinji inhaled quietly and gently blew on the smouldering coal he'd coaxed out. It did not take much more to bring the fire to a proper, crackling blaze. "I wanted to talk to you all about your experiences- figure out what your rituals were and why they worked."
The two... priestesses, if Shinji had to give them a title, looked at each other and then back at him sporting identical, chagrined looks. Blood pooled in their cheeks, and they let out a short laugh. "It's... we spent a lot of time invoking shrine guardians and trying to.. intercede on behalf of the kami enshrined in our temple."
At that, Shinji winced and scratched the back of his head. "Which reminds me." He smiled apologetically. "There's been a miscommunication about what I am and what I represent, and I just kind of found out about this myself, so..."
It was not every day that one had to explain about how gods were real. Shinji thought they took it well.
* * *
"So that was...you have a cult, Golden boy!" Asuka laughed, feeling the actual humor bubble up deep within her. Reality itself seemed to conspire to make Shinji's life interesting, and there she was, able to enjoy it."
"Stop calling them that!" Shinji reached over and shoved her shoulder, hard enough to move her but no more.
He wasn't upset in the least though, and Asuka could see him mentally pouring over everything they'd discussed across the campfire. Now the two of them headed back through the external refugee camp towards Central Dogma, and the critical care medical wards. A very specific group of casualties had been sequestered there, and Asuka even then was wondering how to... do something. Her new ears twitched fitfully beneath the beret.
Desperate for something to occupy her hands, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bittersweet memory. The pen was heavy and kind of bulbous, ill-suited for spinning across her fingers, but Asuka managed. She'd long since drained the reservoir of ink just for that reason. Wright might want it back, or his family.
"Vand called them Raksha, right?" Shinji nodded, glancing at the pen long enough to half-recognize it before letting it go without comment. They both stopped to let a cluster of refugees pass by before moving on. "So with a ridiculous reduction, conventional warfare is about the destruction of an enemy's ability to fight back, or the act of claiming and securing territory."
"Ignoring any political or social considerations, because other than playing with their food, we don't know how they think." Shinji let the observation hang in the air as they headed indoors.
The pressure change was painful, popping all four of Asuka's ears one after the other. "Right. The Geofront- can we secure it, and then start taking back the outside?"
"Maybe. I'd lean towards no." Shinji admitted. "Thaumaturgical wardings are strong, but a sufficiently determined opponent can get around them. I could make a ward to specifically keep you out, and it'd certainly make you think twice..." He paused, humming. "Most wards are less about being force fields and more about appealing to the path of least resistance. If you're too tough to get to, the threat moves on."
Asuka nodded, and her mouth was set into a grim line. "And from what I've heard, we're not the sole focus of these things. They're all over Japan doing whatever they want."
"Possibly the world." Shinji waved her into the infirmary, his domain more than anything. He must've noticed her nerves, because he stopped. "Are you alright?"
She let out a low, growling sigh and pulled off her hat, lettig her ears spring upright. "It's... We got hit with movie magic mutations, like old school radioactive monster stuff. We've got a living gold man and tree women and who knows what else. I'm just... I'm going to help them."
Shinji was quiet for a long moment, before giving her a firm, approving nod. "They're in Ward C, down the hall... If you want me to go with you, I can."
"I'm working up to it." Admitting that she wasn't ready somehow made her feel better. "So what's Mister Weasel been up to?"
He kindly ignored how abrupt the change in topic was and smirked. "Studying. He's been reading and talking to Ritsuko nearly every hour since that last briefing."
"Bullshit." Asuka found a desk sat on it, mindful not to knock anything over. Pen locked between her fingers, she crossed her arms over her chest with a speculative hum. "He learns languages by blood...?"
"And he has a way to even do more than that- he told me." Shinji stretched, reaching for the ceiling until his spine popped. "But it's not the same as really learning it. He doesn't know enough about us. Earth. I think this really is an entirely new world to him, with a new history. Maybe even new physics. He wanted to know about our Elemental Poles, and I had to tell him we only have North and South. He thought the southern pole was a blistering desert at first too."
"So he's got to learn just as much about what we do, as we have to learn about you, him and these Raksha." Asuka let out a long, all-too-necessary groan before giving the pen one last look and putting it away. "Maybe I can find the time, I'll see about tutoring him."
* * *
The Geofront was cold at night, colder still after the surface was glassed. What few hanging structures remained offered no light save for their blinking red caution beacons. Shivering despite her jacket, Rei stepped out of Central Dogma into the greater refugee camp with a mental eye on the shining tulmut of their souls. Kanesawa-san was a steadfast point of reference now- some small part of her would always be with him. All around her, the mingling civilians, soldiers and NERV personnel pulsed against her Absolute Territory, as well as their own.
It was calming, though many regions were frayed and weak. She stayed away from those.
Her memories of the drugs were long faded, but one element stood out in how during the hazy days, she sometimes recognized people by their boundaries, not their face or voice. In the darkness, lit by firelight and the rationed flood lamps, she could not see far or much. Even so, two familiar presences approached. None so intimate as say Misato, Shinji or Asuka, but familiar nonetheless.
Stepping into a clearing, Rei glanced left and right, and could not help the look of surprise on her face. Kaneshiro Katsuo and Takegane Shujumi stood across from her, and the three of them formed an implicit triangle, framed by tents, trees and people. They looked at her, probably just as surprised as she felt. The two upperclassmen survived.
She blinked once, twice, and said the first thing that came to her mind.
"The two of you asked me out on a date, within minutes of each other."
And that was when she realized with no small amount of chagrin that her social skills were still unpolished.
