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When Asuka wears her yellow sundress, she knows what others see.
Her legs, long and slim under the light skirt; her thin, bony arms left shown off by the lack of sleeves; her defined collar bones visible over the low neckline. She knows others take note of how beautiful her body is. She knows it makes boys her age and older stare in longing. Girls of all ages stare with envy- she has what anyone would want.
(Misato doesn’t look envious. She’s already thin, but she looks at Asuka with concern clear in her eyes.)
When she wears her yellow dress, or her school uniform, or even her form-fitting plug suit, she knows that people notice her. And of course they do! It’s what she deserves after working for so long. She’s spent immeasurable time getting as far as she has- working out, weighing herself, and skipping every meal she can. It’s only right for people to see her and be astounded. She saw how Shinji’s stupid friends looked at her the first time they met. She’s seen the jealousy in her friends’ eyes and she takes cruel pride from it.
(Kaiji doesn’t notice her. He still doesn’t see her, only stupid Misato. She’s much slimmer than Misato, who wastes hundreds of calories on beer, so why doesn’t he notice her instead?)
Her mother was the same way. She filled Asuka’s head with the right sort of ideas when she was a little kid, constantly reminding her that she didn’t need seconds if she’d already tasted something, or that she was usually just bored and not hungry, or that calories shouldn’t be wasted on junk. Asuka’s mother was perfect, so it’s only fair that she should be too.
And she is, of course. She’s pretty and bold and fashionable, and makes friends easily with almost anyone. She does well in school without even trying, and she’s fluent in multiple languages despite being only fourteen. And she’s amazing in battle. Her sync rates with unit 02 are consistently at 100%, much better than that idiot Shinji, who only has an EVA in the first place because his dad runs the whole place. He doesn’t deserve an EVA like she does. He doesn’t even want one and he hardly makes any effort unless his own life is on the line. She’s worked harder than anyone and he hasn’t worked a day in his worthless life.
Asuka hates Shinji Ikari. If everything else in her life were to fall apart, she’d at least know one thing: Shinji Ikari was a weak, pathetic baby who paled in comparison to everything she could do, in and outside of NERV. He hardly even has a bond with his unit most of the time.
Until her sync rates start to lower.
It starts out in tiny changes, so small nobody except her cares- from a 100% down to 99.6%, from that to a 97%. Misato doesn’t say a word, but Asuka notices the tiny changes and she knows better than anyone that even though it seems miniscule it could get worse. Fortunately, she’s confident that isn’t the case, and with good reason. It should be easy to fix because Asuka has more of a connection to her beloved unit 02 than that bitch Rei or weakling Shinji.
Except it’s not an easy fix. Her sync rates keep going down, keep slipping lower and lower. Misato’s giving her pitiful looks, Shinji’s avoiding eye contact more than usual, and even Rei tries to offer some stupid advice. It’s all bullshit. She doesn’t know why it’s not working, why she’s gone from sync rate 100% to 70% in under a week or why her unit won’t listen to her. Misato is offering up excuses to try and stop everything from falling apart but that’s not working either, or at least it won’t for much longer. At some point the other NERV employees will stop believing she’s on her period or that she has a cold or whatever else.
Misato thinks the change is in response to her ever-declining weight. Asuka thinks that’s envy talking and says it to her face. That makes no sense. Why would her EVA reject her when she’s finally starting to get what she’s worked for? She’s almost perfect and so close to being fully and wholly beautiful. Maybe that’s it- maybe once she’s thin enough that she can’t pinch any of the already sparse body fat on her arm or leg or wrist or wherever the robot will take her back already.
She keeps losing weight until she can hardly hear the whispered comments her classmates make about it over the rushing in her ears. Asuka’s head is stuffed with cotton and her throat is filled with marbles and her stomach is giving up on itself and she knows she’s almost there. She falls down the stairs at headquarters and wakes up with Shinji panicking and shaking her back and forth like she’s a rag doll, and she’s furious with him but she knows she’s close. She’s almost there, and victory is about to be the first thing she’ll be glad to taste in a very long time, and-
And then her sync rates lower to 0%.
When it happens she doesn’t believe it at first. Misato likes to think she’s funny; maybe it’s a stupid prank. But her melancholy expression suggests otherwise. Shinji looks away like he’s ashamed on her behalf, and Rei stares at her with something akin to pity in her soulless eyes, and Asuka knows it’s real.
From there everything declines. Her EVA rejects her, just like her perfect mother did all those years ago when she strung herself up from the ceiling, just like her father did even before that, just like Kaji does everytime he sees her. She stumbles around headquarters like a lost puppy, off balance for multiple reasons, then goes home- but she can’t, home is gone, her mother is gone and there’s nothing left for her. They’re going to replace her, get her precious Unit 02 a new pilot with good sync rates who can probably eat more than a yogurt cup without vomiting it up half an hour later. One who gets along with Shinji and Rei and isn’t mean to Misato and replaces her in every way, until every space she’s ever tried so hard to occupy in is filled up with them instead.
She leaves NERV and doesn’t go back to Misato’s apartment. Part of her wants someone to come find her and say it was all a mistake; most of her wants to be left alone until she’s dead. The second is more likely, because who wants a disgraced EVA pilot who isn’t good for anything except starving herself half to death?
Her head is stuffed with cotton and it’s pouring out her ears and eyes and mouth and nose, and shoving itself down her throat until it bursts, and her stomach is devouring itself in fits of rage, and her perfect slim legs can’t hold her up anymore and neither will her bony arms; when she lays down in the bathtub it hurts because the porcelain digs into her spine and tailbone. She tries to curl up on herself instead but the porcelain tub is leaving bruises on her perfect arms and hips. And god, she’s so cold; her arms have grown this long layer of thin hair as a last defense which is repulsive and just about as useful as an EVA pilot with 0% sync rates. She’s so cold, and god she’s so hungry. She’s absurdly hungry and she always has been but there’s always been an impressive effort to suppress hunger pains, but now there’s nothing to distract her from what can only be described as pure agony. And she’s so tired. She’s exhausted, enough so that she can feel it weighing on her protruding bones. She’s so tired; tired enough that the bathtub surrounded by rubble is probably more comfortable than any bed could hope to be; curling up on her side isn’t so bad anymore, and she falls asleep and wonders not for the first time whether she’ll wake up.