A boy stood by the window of the Katsura Campus, his gaze distant, detached, watching students and passersby go about their day.
"They have no idea," he muttered. "In just three short years, everything will come crashing down."
My name is Shinji Yuma. I'm eleven years old.
Yes, you heard that right—an eleven-year-old at university. You might think I'm here with my parents, maybe they're professors. You'd be wrong.
I'm here on my own merit.
Curious how someone like me ended up here? Well, sit back. This is going to be one hell of a ride.
Memory: Everything is crystal clear.
Since the moment I was reborn into this world, I've had perfect memory—total recall of my past life and anything I've ever seen or done since.
At first, I thought I had simply reincarnated into the past or a parallel version of my world.
I'll skip the details of my death—what matters is what came after.
June 4th, 1986. Tama District, Tokyo Prefecture, Japan. That's where it all began.
I was born into an unremarkable family with traditional values. My great-great-grandfather had been a samurai, so I was sent to practice kendo early on. I didn't mind.
Thanks to my perfect memory, I quickly began to shine—both in academics and martial arts.
My parents, Aiko and Ken Yuma, were ordinary office workers, often away on business trips for weeks at a time.
I speak of them in the past tense because, well, they died last year in a car accident during a trip.
They almost sent me to an orphanage, but since I was already enrolled in university, the school arranged for formal guardianship instead.
We didn't have many books at home, but I made do with libraries. The university had internet—not great, but usable. That's where I gathered most of my knowledge.
Studying and kendo. That was my life.
My brilliance was welcomed with open arms. I graduated school externally almost immediately and entered university last year.
And that's when everything changed.
I found out a student here was named Gendo Rokubungi.
If it weren't for my memory, I wouldn't have thought twice about it. But I knew.
This wasn't just some alternate history.
This was Evangelion.
Of all the universes I could have ended up in... I landed in humanity's slow, beautiful self-destruction.
I didn't panic. I accepted it.
And I decided to make the most of it.
Right now, I'm in a lab, working on the prototype for a mechanical exoskeleton arm—just an idea for the future.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
A girl, around 18, wearing a lab coat, entered without emotion.
"Excuse me, are you Shinji Yuma?" she asked in a flat voice.
"Yes. What is it now?" Let me guess—some institute wants to parade me around again. Or shove me into another experimental project...
"Professor Kouzou Fuyutsuki is requesting your presence."
"I see. I'll be right there."
She turned and left, no further words.
What does he want with me? We've only crossed paths a few times—he teaches in the biotech department over in the Uji Campus.
Because of my academic record, I was granted access to various departments, but our relationship was strictly student-teacher, nothing more.
The hallway was bathed in warm sunlight. I walked outside toward the bus stop.
Uji Campus was 10, maybe 11 kilometers away.
Wait. She never told me where he's waiting. What if he's not even there? Whatever, I've got free time.
People stared at me on the bus. I'd forgotten to take off my lab coat. Oh well.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived and showed my ID at the entrance.
"Excuse me, is Professor Fuyutsuki in?" I asked the guard.
"He should be," the guard said vaguely.
He has no idea, I thought.
I asked a few students along the way, eventually confirming that he was in his office.
Standing before the door, I sighed.
I had plans today. Borrowed lab hours. Who's giving me that time back?
I knocked.
"Come in," a relaxed voice called.
His office was ordinary. Desk, shelves, books. A mirror on the wall showed my reflection—short black hair, amber eyes, about 160cm tall.
Professor Fuyutsuki looked up, arms crossed, smiling faintly.
"Good day, Professor. You wanted to see me?"
"Good day, Shinji. Yes. I wanted to discuss your recent lab work—and something else. Apologies for interrupting your studies."
"No problem. It's my day off. What about my project?" I asked, knowing it was flawless.
"It's excellent," he said, leaning back. "Your choice of topic—'Human-Computer Interaction in Immersive Environments'—very bold for someone your age. Inspiring, really. Do you believe it's possible?"
"I do. Maybe not now, but in the future—yes. If not full immersion, then at least neural interfaces, or cybernetic implants."
"Yes, I remember you mentioned that in your thesis." He paused, thoughtful.
Silence stretched between us.
"Anything else, Professor? Or am I free to go?"
"Ah, right. One more thing. I was contacted by an old acquaintance—Dr. Katsuragi. We discussed your work with the university director. He's very interested in your paper on graphene-based energy technologies."
Dr. Katsuragi.
So it begins.
"He's requested a meeting with you. Monday, 10 a.m., main campus."
"I'll be there. Is that all?"
"That's all. Don't waste your potential, Shinji. People like you are born once in a thousand years. Your work already inspires others."
"You flatter me, Professor."
"No, I don't. Even my top student finds your dissertations fascinating."
"Your student?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. Yui Ikari. I'll have to introduce you two sometime."
"…Of course. Thank you. Goodbye."
"Take care, Shinji."
Yui Ikari.
As I walked the hallway, I couldn't help but smile.
Of course she'd be watching me.
So would they all.