[ Misato feels as if she is sinking into mud, the surface rising to swallow her ankles and creeping higher, higher. This lingering on things past and over with, when one must keep moving or risk being swallowed, and she despises it. She crouches by the body that is finally still, unmoving, just an object. It's fitting that they talk of it as something to be dealt with, discarded. And she never knew him well enough besides, so it shouldn't matter.

She looks up toward Shepard first, eyes dry, then pointedly to Asuka. ]

Asuka knows best what he would've wanted done. The rest is just clean-up, anything will do as long as it leaves no trace.

[ Her voice is cold. She doesn't waver when rising to her feet and stepping out of the group, steps as sure as ever. ]

I'm gonna go wash up.