Echoes of the Breach

Shinji's mind drifted in and out of a fog so thick that it felt like a barrier between him and reality. Every movement, every sound, was distant, unreal, like something he was only half-conscious of. His right arm, the one he had lost, still felt like it was there, stiff against his side, as though it hadn't been severed at all. Every now and then, the stinging pain from the breach flared up, a cruel reminder of the blood-soaked battles he had fought, but it didn't seem to make sense. It didn't feel like it was his body. It didn't feel real.

"You're safe now," a voice reached him, soft but full of emotion. He didn't recognize it at first, but it was soothing in its familiarity. He tried to lift his head, tried to focus, but the weight of exhaustion dragged him back down. This is a dream, he told himself. It has to be.

The soft voice spoke again. "Shinji, you're safe. Please, look at me."

No, no, no. I have to wake up.

He opened his eyes slowly, the room blurry at first. It was a hospital room. White walls, a faint smell of antiseptic. But it didn't feel right. It wasn't where he was supposed to be. The breach, he thought. I'm still there. This is just a dream. It's all just a trick.

"Yu…" He murmured her name in a daze. His vision cleared, and he saw her standing there in civilian clothes, her face pale and filled with worry. But her eyes, those purple eyes, they were too familiar. He had seen them before, somewhere. It didn't make sense.

"Shinji," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're okay. I'm here. You're not in the breach anymore."

No, I'm not in the breach… Shinji thought, his chest tightening. But this… this isn't real. I can't be awake. I never left. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut in desperation. He didn't want to see this. Didn't want to feel this. He couldn't. He was still there, fighting, still fused with Striker, still battling the kaiju, still in the breach where he'd lost himself. His mind was drowning in the remnants of that fight.

"I don't understand," he whispered hoarsely, eyes still closed. "This isn't real. I'm still there. I never left."

Yu's voice broke, filled with a sorrow he couldn't fully comprehend. "Shinji, please… you're here. You're on Earth. You're safe now."

His breath quickened, anxiety flooding his system. He reached out, but his right arm wouldn't move. It was stiff, paralyzed, almost like it wasn't his at all. He could still feel it, his arm, strikers arm the acid, the burn from the kaiju blood. The pain had been real, hadn't it? The fire, the searing heat, and the blood that had soaked him to the bone, still lingered in the back of his mind, like a distant memory clawing its way back into the present.

The dream, this... dream... was so vivid. So real. The feeling of acid on his skin, the way Striker's hand had burned when it touched the blood. He could still feel it, could still feel himself in that place. The breach. The monsters. The killing.

"I almost…" he began to whisper, his voice breaking, "I almost killed you."

Yu watched helplessly as Shinji's body trembled, his chest heaving with each strained breath. His words were broken, a mix of anguish and guilt. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but she knew he wasn't fully here. His mind was somewhere else, lost in the nightmare that had consumed him for so long. His fingers curled tightly into the blanket, as though he was trying to pull himself out of the nightmare.

"No... no, no, no," he gasped again, and Yu's heart ached at the raw pain in his voice. It was clear that the memories still haunted him, memories of the breach of the things he couldn't control.

She moved closer, her voice gentle, but it felt like it was barely enough to reach him. "Shinji... you're safe now. It's over."

But he didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing, his breathing ragged. The weight of his own self-loathing was suffocating him.

"I can't... I can't..." His voice broke again, and tears welled up in his eyes as he squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could shut out the memory. "I... I hurt you. I hurt you, Yu."

The words hit her like a physical blow. She took a shaky breath but didn't back away. She had known he was suffering, but hearing him say it out loud... It tore at her.

Shinji, even in his fragile state, was blaming himself for what happened, what he couldn't control, whatever that place had done to him.

Slowly, she reached out, her hand hovering just above his before resting gently on his. The warmth of her touch was there, but it was more for her own comfort than his. She needed him to know, no, to feel, that she wasn't angry with him. That he wasn't the monster he thought he was.

"Shinji," Yu whispered softly, her voice firm yet full of warmth. "You didn't hurt me. You were fighting something... something that wasn't you. I'm here now, and you're safe. It's not your fault."

He flinched slightly at her touch, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she squeezed his hand gently, trying to ground him back into the moment.

"Shinji, listen to me. You're here. You're alive. And you're not alone," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not a monster. Please, don't think that."

But Shinji only shook his head weakly, tears slipping down his face as the weight of everything he had done, everything he had nearly done, threatened to crush him. "I almost killed you. I didn't even know what I was doing…"

Yu felt her own eyes sting with unshed tears, but she fought them back. She leaned forward, her voice soft but insistent.

"You didn't hurt me, Shinji. You didn't."

He turned his head, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. "But... I almost... I was a monster. I couldn't even recognize myself."

Yu's heart clenched. She wanted to say so many things, to make him understand, but all she could do was hold his hand tighter. "You are not a monster, Shinji. You're someone who fought to survive. Someone who's been through hell and back, and you're still here. And you are you. Not that thing, not the thing that came out of the breach. You."

Shinji's breath hitched again, but this time it was slower, like his body was starting to accept the reality of her words. She could see the struggle in his eyes, he wanted to believe her, but the weight of his past actions kept pulling him under.

"Yu…" he whispered, voice cracking once again. "I'm sorry."

And she leaned down, her forehead resting against his. "No more apologies, Shinji. You're safe. And you're not alone anymore."

"This is real right?"

Shinji's voice was small, hesitant, as though even now, after everything, he was unsure whether he could trust the world around him. His eyes searched Yu's face, looking for some sign, some confirmation that this moment, this safety, wasn't just another fleeting illusion.

Yu squeezed his hand, her fingers warm and steady against his trembling ones. She met his gaze with a soft, unwavering look, her voice calm but filled with certainty.

"Yes, Shinji," she said gently. "This is real. You're here. You're safe. I'm right here with you."

For a moment, he didn't respond. He simply stared at her, as if trying to convince himself, as if trying to tear down the walls built by years of pain and loss. The silence stretched, thick with his doubts, until finally, he let out a shaky breath.

"...I don't know if I can believe it," he whispered, his eyes drifting downward. "Everything feels so... unreal. I don't know if I can trust anything anymore."

Yu's heart ached, but she held on tighter. "You don't have to trust everything yet, Shinji. Just trust me. I'm not going anywhere."

Shinji's chest rose and fell as he inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes filled with pain and confusion. But for the first time in a long while, something resembling peace flickered behind the fear. Something almost like hope.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Okay, I'll try. I'll try to believe you."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Yu smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "That's all I need. One step at a time."

"Shinji," he murmured softly to himself, testing the name. It felt strange on his tongue, like something he should remember but couldn't fully grasp. "Shinji, that's... that's what you called me?"

He turned his gaze back to Yu, the uncertainty in his eyes reflecting a deep sense of loss, not just for the memories, but for himself. "I don't, " He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I don't remember who I am. I don't remember my name... or... or anything." His voice faltered, cracking with the weight of the realization.

Yu's face softened, her heart breaking as she gently touched his hand, trying to ground him in some way. "It's okay, Shinji. You've been through so much. I know this is overwhelming."

But Shinji shook his head, his eyes filled with frustration. "No, it's not okay. I can't... I can't even remember my own name. How am I supposed to move forward if I can't even remember who I am?" His voice trembled with the vulnerability he didn't want to show, the realization that the person he had been before, the person before all those years, might be gone forever, that the life he fought so hard to get back to was gone.

Yu's heart ached as she watched him struggle, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. She reached out, gently cupping his face with both hands, her touch warm and comforting. "Shinji... I know you feel lost right now, but you're not gone. You're still here. You're still you."

Shinji's eyes met hers, but the anguish in them was palpable. "How can I be me when I can't even remember who I am?" He pressed a hand to his forehead, as though trying to force the memories to return. "All I have are flashes... fragments... and they're not enough. The person I was before, before everything, feels so far away."

Yu's thumb gently traced the lines of his jaw as she tried to calm him. "It's okay to not remember everything right now. You're not alone in this. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to have all the answers. You're still Shinji, the person I care about more than the world, the person who fought so hard to survive, my little brother. I see you. And that's enough for me."

Shinji's eyes widened slightly at her words, the weight of them settling in his chest. His breath faltered, and for a moment, he couldn't find the right response. "Your... brother?" he whispered, almost in disbelief.

Yu nodded, her hands still resting on his face, steady and firm. "Yes. My brother," she repeated softly, a tenderness in her voice that held the kind of affection he hadn't known he was longing for. "You are more than the pain, more than the trauma. You are my brother, the one who pulled through everything, even when the odds were against you. That's who you are, Shinji. And that's enough for me."

His mind spun with the words, struggling to reconcile them with the overwhelming weight of his lost memories. He had never been anyone's brother, had he? At least, not in this way, not in the way she meant. But somehow, hearing her say it felt... right.

His breath steadied, but the doubt still lingered, threading through his thoughts like an old wound that refused to fully heal. "But I don't know what that means. I don't even know what it means to be me anymore."

Yu's eyes softened as she gently brushed a tear from his cheek. "It's okay. You don't have to have all the answers. What matters right now is that you're here. With me. And we'll figure it out together. Step by step."

As Yu spoke, Shinji's breath slowly began to steady, his mind still struggling to process the words. For a moment, the world felt still, as if the hospital room had become a sanctuary, a place where he could momentarily shed the burdens of the breach, the battle, and the endless chaos. But his peace didn't last long.

The door creaked open, and a few of the medical team entered, their expressions a mix of concern and professional detachment. Dr. Kato, the lead physician, stepped forward first, his gaze softening when he saw how much more at ease Shinji appeared compared to earlier. Still, the doctor's professional demeanor returned quickly as he addressed both Shinji and Yu.

"Shinji, we're going to do some tests to check on your overall recovery," Dr. Kato said, his voice warm but authoritative. "Just some routine things to make sure we're on the right track. How are you feeling right now?"

Shinji swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. "I... I feel better," he said, though his voice still carried a tremor. "I think. I don't know."

Yu's reassuring touch lingered on his hand, offering him comfort in the midst of the uncertainty. She gave him a small, encouraging smile before stepping back to give the doctors space.

The tests began soon after. They checked his vitals again, taking blood samples, checking his heart rate, and scanning for any signs of lingering physical trauma. There were several questions about his mental state, but Shinji wasn't sure how to answer them. He couldn't remember his past clearly enough to explain it all, but he could feel the confusion building inside him.

But it wasn't until they ran a series of psychological assessments, involving exposure to different colors, that something strange was revealed.

One of the nurses held a small color chart in front of him, a neutral, clinical gesture. It seemed harmless enough, just different shades, ranging from red to green, yellow to purple. But when the nurse held up a vivid shade of blue, Shinji's reaction was immediate. His chest tightened, his breathing hitched, and his eyes narrowed.

Yu, who had been standing off to the side, noticed it immediately. "Shinji?" Her voice was filled with concern as she stepped closer.

Shinji's breath steadied, but his body tensed in a way that was all too familiar. The moment his eyes locked onto the vivid blue of the chart, something within him shifted. It wasn't panic this time, but a cold, instinctual awareness. His muscles locked, and his senses sharpened as if the breach was pulling him back, calling him to fight.

Yu's hand on his arm was the only thing grounding him, but even that seemed like a distant thought now. His gaze was fixed, his mind elsewhere. His fingers twitched, and the subtle hum of power thrummed in the air as something inside him stirred, a violent echo from the breach.

His left arm began to tingle, and then as if by sheer will, it started to change. metal plating, thick and durable, slid across his skin like liquid, the dark, jagged edges forming over his flesh. The plating formed a protective exoskeleton around his forearm, with sharp angles and glowing veins of light running through the dark metal, reminiscent of the Jaeger's armament.

Yu pulled back slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she watched his arm transform. The quiet, smooth surface of his skin hardened into something almost alien, imposing, and out of place in the sterile environment of the hospital room. It looked like the arm of a machine, not a man.

Shinji's breath slowed as the transformation completed, his mind finally registering the physical change. He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight and the solid metal beneath them. The jagged plating had a weight to it, reminding him of the battles fought, and the destruction he had left in his wake.

He didn't look at Yu. His focus was entirely on the arm, the surge of power within him as if it had always been there, lying dormant. A faint, deep rumble vibrated in his chest, like the sound of engines revving, building up for something violent. But there was no opponent here. No kaiju, no war to fight.

"Shinji..." Yu whispered softly, her voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Shinji's eyes flickered for a moment, a brief flash of recognition in his gaze, but it was gone as quickly as it came. His thoughts were already slipping back into that place, the battlefield of his mind where the breach never truly ended. The feeling of the kaiju blood on his hands, the roar of the creatures, the endless fight, it all surged back as he felt the weight of the arm as if it was a reminder of the power he had once wielded.

He clenched his fist, and the plating hummed as if responding to his will. "I'm not... I'm not here," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his voice hollow and distant. "I'm still fighting. Still fighting... but there's no fight left."

Yu's heart clenched as she took a step forward, not knowing how to reach him. She knew he had always been someone to fight, but this was different. This wasn't the Shinji she knew, the one who hesitated, who feared. This was someone who was ready to tear down the world around him, his mind slipping between the remnants of his past and the present.

"Shinji, stop," Yu said firmly, her voice gaining strength. "You're not in the breach anymore. You're not in battle. You're here. With me. We can figure this out together."

But he didn't respond. His eyes had become cold, locked on the invisible enemy in his mind. His left hand clenched tighter around the metal plating, his entire body tense as though waiting for a command. The transformation wasn't just physical, his quirk had partially activated, pushing him into that space of aggression, of readiness. But this time, there was no enemy to face. Only memories.

A small, worried frown creased Yu's brow. "Shinji, listen to me," she said, stepping closer again, her voice softer but urgent. "You're not a machine. You're not a weapon. You're Shinji. You're my brother. Please, come back to me."

The words broke through, just enough to reach the small sliver of clarity left in his mind. Shinji's breath came faster again, but this time, it wasn't because of fear or panic. it was the confusion of trying to reconcile the two worlds. The one he had been, and the one he was now.

His left arm trembled, the metal plating flickering slightly as the power within him started to subside. Slowly, the hum died down, the arm returning to its normal, human state. His hand unclenched, and his eyes flickered to Yu's face, confusion written all over his features.

"I... I don't know what's happening to me," he whispered, his voice strained. "I didn't... I didn't mean to–"

"You're okay," Yu interrupted softly, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. "You're okay, Shinji. You're still you. You don't have to be that person anymore."

Shinji closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath as the weight of the transformation lifted, leaving him feeling exhausted and raw. His mind was still clouded with the remnants of the breach, the constant fight for survival, but for now, the fight had stopped. He was here. He was with Yu. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't feel so alone.

The doctor raised an eyebrow, watching the interaction closely. "Interesting," he murmured to himself. He turned to Yu. "It seems that Shinji has developed an aversion to certain colors, specifically blue. It could be a psychological response tied to the trauma he experienced, especially with the kaiju and their blood."

Yu looked at Shinji, her heart aching for him as she watched him struggle. "Shinji, do you remember... any of that? The kaiju, their blood, or the battles?"

Shinji shook his head slowly, his eyes unfocused. "What don't I remember from that place," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember it on my hands, on Striker. The way it burned, the way it felt like it was... eating me alive." He closed his eyes again, his expression twisted in pain. "Every attack, every kill, having to run for days on end just to get a bit of sleep "

Shinji's eyes fluttered shut, the weight of his thoughts dragging him deeper into the memories he had fought so hard to escape. He could feel the burning sensation in his chest again, like a cold shiver of steel against his skin. He clenched his jaw as the words spilled out, more painful than he expected.

"I spent weeks... months linked with Striker," he murmured, his voice tight, barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, it was hard to tell where I ended, and where he began."

Yu stayed silent, listening intently, though the ache in her chest grew with every word he spoke. She could only imagine the torment he'd endured, living in that hell for so long, not just fighting for his life but struggling to keep himself intact as he was slowly consumed by the same violence and chaos that had nearly destroyed him.

"I remember the pain... but also the... the strength, the rage. It felt like I was two people, but... but at the same time, I wasn't anyone at all. Striker, the Jaeger... I was inside him, like a passenger. I felt everything he felt, every hit, every kill. The blood, the fire... it was like I was feeding off it too like I couldn't escape it. And sometimes... sometimes, I couldn't tell if it was me or him. The lines blurred."

His breath hitched, his body tensing as if he were reliving the experience at that very moment. His left arm, the one covered in metal plating now, seemed to twitch at the memory of the power Striker's movements once held, the weight of every fight still felt in his bones.

Yu stepped closer, gently placing her hand on his, her voice soft but unwavering. "Shinji, you're not him. You're you. No matter what happened, no matter what you shared with him, that doesn't change who you are."

But Shinji wasn't so sure. His gaze was distant, as though his mind were wandering in the dark corners of the past.

"There were times when it felt like I wasn't even in control anymore," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "Like Striker and I were just one... like we were fused, and the only thing that mattered was survival, destruction... fighting. I'd lose track of time... lose track of myself."

Yu's eyes softened, and she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I know, Shinji. I know you didn't want that. But you're here now, and you're not alone. You're safe."

The doctors continued their work, but Yu stayed by his side, her presence a calming anchor amidst the turmoil that still gripped his mind. The blue swatch was set aside, and they moved on to other tests, but the damage had already been done. Shinji couldn't forget the overwhelming panic, the sensation of that color, blue, bringing with it memories he wasn't ready to face.

As the tests finished, Dr. Kato stepped aside, discussing the results with the other medical professionals in low tones. Yu remained close to Shinji, watching him carefully. He was silent, lost in his own thoughts, and though he didn't show it outwardly, the events of the past few hours seemed to have left a mark on him that no one could erase.

"Shinji, we'll take it slow," Yu said softly, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "You don't have to face everything all at once. Just one step at a time."

Dr. Kato approached them after a moment, his expression carefully neutral but tinged with concern. "Shinji," he began gently, "we've finished the initial assessments. Physically, you're stable for now, but there's significant strain on your body from malnutrition, dehydration, and prolonged stress. Mentally..." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "You're showing symptoms consistent with severe PTSD and prolonged sensory overload. It's important to acknowledge that this isn't something you have to handle on your own."

Shinji tuned out the doctor's steady voice and the soft, reassuring tones of the woman sitting beside him. Sister. He liked that word, though it felt strange, almost foreign, to apply it to her. It stirred something deep inside him, a faint warmth in the vast emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole.

His gaze drifted to where her hand rested over his, small and steady, a silent anchor in the storm. Sister. He turned the word over in his mind as if trying to memorize its weight, its meaning. It felt distant, like a memory he couldn't quite reach, but it was there, and that was enough for now.

The doctor's voice faded further into the background, a low hum of clinical terms and careful reassurances that meant little to him. He wasn't interested in what they had to say. Diagnoses and treatment plans felt irrelevant when his mind was still tangled in the breach, caught between the crushing depths of the rift and the crushing guilt of what he'd done, what he'd become.

Yu, his sister. leaned a little closer, brushing a lock of his hair back with a tenderness that felt so fragile, it threatened to break him. Her touch wasn't heavy or demanding, just... there. Constant. Grounding.

"Shinji?" her voice pulled him from his thoughts, soft and concerned.

He blinked, glancing at her. For a moment, he didn't respond, just studied her face, her features, the faint glimmer of tears she was clearly trying to hold back. Her purple eyes. Brighter than his, but the same somehow.

"Sister," he said, the word slipping out before he realized it. His voice was hoarse, rough, but there was something almost reverent about how he said it like the word itself was a lifeline he hadn't known he needed.

Yu's lips parted, surprise flickering across her face before she smiled softly, her hand tightening just slightly around his. "Yeah," she said, her voice breaking with emotion. "Your sister. Always."

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Shinji let himself lean into the presence of another person, into the connection he'd thought he'd lost forever. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him tethered, just for a little while longer.

Yu and Doctor Kato went back to their conversation. Shinji let himself zone out again, his gaze wandering aimlessly around the room until it landed in the far corner.

The shadows there seemed too thick, too alive. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, the leftover fog of fatigue and trauma. But then the darkness shifted, coalescing into a form.

His breath hitched as the figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows.

It was him, or something close enough to him that it made his chest tighten with dread. The corrupted version of himself stood there, its body twisted and wrong. Jagged metal plating covered its left arm, eerily similar to the one that had appeared on him earlier, but warped and grotesque. Its skin shimmered faintly like the breach had imprinted itself onto it, leaving him forever marked.

The eyes were the worst part: glowing a sickly, acidic blue-purple, staring straight through him.

Shinji froze. He couldn't look away, no matter how much his mind screamed at him to. The air seemed heavier, as though the room itself was pressing in around him.

"Shinji?" Yu's voice broke through the haze, soft and concerned. He barely registered it.

"Shinji, are you listening?" Doctor Kato added, his tone firmer this time.

Shinji couldn't respond. Couldn't move. The figure in the corner tilted its head, mimicking the way he often did when lost in thought, but there was no humanity in its gaze.

"Shinji!" Yu's voice rose now, her hand brushing against his arm.

And still, he couldn't tear his eyes away. The figure took a single step closer, the faintest echo of metallic footsteps ringing in his ears. His heart raced, hammering against his ribs.

Finally, the corrupted version of him moved its mouth. The words that came out weren't loud, but they carried a weight that crushed him:

"You'll never escape us."

In the blink of an eye, it was gone.

Shinji gasped sharply, his chest heaving as if he'd been underwater too long. Yu was gripping his arm now, her face etched with worry. "Shinji, what's wrong? Talk to me!"

He turned to her, his eyes wide and frantic. "Did you...did you see that?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Yu frowned, her gaze darting to the corner where his attention had been fixated. "See what?"

Shinji's head shook violently, and he closed his eyes, the image of the corrupted figure burned into his mind. "I...I don't know," he muttered. "Maybe nothing."

But the words lingered, echoing in his thoughts. You'll never escape us.