From: mew3point14@doramail.com (Daniel Snyder) "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful bride. She knew love, and she knew what it was to be loved. But she was proud, too, and resolved not to give herself to anyone. "On day of her wedding, she was dressed in her most beautiful gown and surrounded by everyone she loved. But she frowned, because she was proud and she had only half-chosen her husband-to-be. Although she knew him by the word of others, she had never seen his face. "'Smile and love your husband,' they all shouted, 'smile and love your husband.' And the longer she did not smile, the louder they shouted, and the more impatient everyone became. "Finally, she swallowed her pride and smiled weakly. In that moment, her bridegroom came to her. She saw him for the first time. "He was beautiful to look upon, and charming in his bearing. Willingly, she smiled then. Willingly, she married him. "What was the name of the bride?" -- Katsuragi Misato's hair had grown quickly until it reached the middle of her back. Ibuki Maya knew how to put it up in a French braid, and Misato made no objection when the younger girl insisted on braiding her hair. Maya's intentions were pure. She tried not to dwell on the sensuous feeling of Misato's hair, purple locks that smelled of musky oils; nor did she make anything of the heat from Misato's cheek and shoulder as she held the mirror to show off her work, framing the two faces. "You see, Misato?" she said as though to a small child. "Don't you look all pretty now?" Misato listlessly took the mirror and gazed blankly at her reflection for a few moments before she placed the mirror, upside down, in her lap and stared off into space once more. Undeterred, Maya set the mirror on a nearby desk and picked up a catalogue from out of her handbag. "Kanae-chan gave me a catalogue, Misato...do you want to look at it together?" "Eh?" "A catalogue," Maya reiterated. She held it up for the older girl to see, and flipped through a few pages. "Do you want to look at all the pretty pictures?" In a flat tone, Misato said, "What's the point, Maya? We can't order anything." "Well..." Maya glanced at the catalogue for inspiration, then suggested, "we can look at the pictures, can't we?" The former Social Vice President shook her head in a most disturbing way. The shake went further and further to the sides as Misato rolled her head back, and at the same time her eyes wandered every which way. Not until she was practically unscrewing her head from her shoulders did she lift it back upright and say, "They're all dead out there." Maya set down the catalogue in defeat. "Oh, sempai, don't start doing this again." "They're all dead. Ikari's the key. You understand, Maya? _He_ is the key. It could be anyone, anything, but it had to be him. It's fate. It's like a fate everyone's chosen for him, made him to just fit the slot he'll drop into." As Maya stepped over to try and comfort the other girl, Misato lurched up and seized Maya's shoulders. "What does he want from me?" "Misato?" "What does he want? Does he want me to fuck him?" "Misato, stop it." "I'll fuck him. Anything. Does he want my booze?" "Misato, please." "Does he want drugs? Cars? People?" "Misato, you're scaring me! Stop right now!" "Maya, we have to give him _something._ He has to stop it." "Please, try to--what? What? What?" "He has to stop it." Maya shook her head and blinked away tears of fear. "Misato, what's _it_?" She nodded, seeming to understand the question. She changed her tone, but went on in the same vein as before. "He has to stop it, Maya. He can stop it, or start it, or let it happen, and God help us, he HAS to stop it." "Stop _what_?" "Eh?" "Ikari, you mean Shinji-kun...you said that it's his fate to stop something." Maya was a whirlwind of emotion. Misato had babbled once or twice since the disastrous Duel, but never for so long or with such a common theme. There had to be a seed crystal in her story, however horrible it might be. "Misato, think about it and tell me, what is the thing Shinji has to stop?" "Has to stop?" "Yes." Her outburst over, Katsuragi Misato suddenly seemed unsure of herself. "It's big." "Big? Yes, uh-huh, OK. What else?" "It...doesn't have wings. It shouldn't. It's alive." Misato, still holding on to Maya's shoulders, was staring at the floor as one impaled trying to understand wherefore. "It's full of people, they're inside. They know something's happening, but it's too big for them to know what. It...no, wait. It doesn't hate Shinji's dad. It knows it doesn't, because it needs him to exist, but if it doesn't exist just to oppose him it couldn't exist, and so it has to hate him, or try to hate him, just to be." Not understanding the older girl's words, Maya asked, "What does it look like?" There was no response. Maya tried to get Misato to raise her head. That failed too, and Maya shifted her tactics again. "Where is it, Misato?" "Buh..." "What?" The former social vice president's old demeanor had returned. Maya could feel the girl's eyes glazing without looking at her face. At length, Misato said, "Behind the...Dueling Arena." _But I didn't think there was a behind to the Dueling Arena,_ Maya thought. She eased Misato back to her chair, only to see the signs of catatonia returning. Risking one last question, Maya said, "Misato- sempai? What was it doing behind the Dueling Arena?" Misato spoke from behind her face. "It brought me home, after the Duel." "It did? Are you serious?" "Tou-san..." -- Suzuhara Touji had improved his dexterity to the point where he could make two coins change into three with a little slight-of-hand. He was practicing with two hundred-yen coins and a fifty, and trying to think up a snappy joke about inflation, when Aida Kensuke walked in. The boy had left his art class a half hour early to speak to his friend. Kensuke sat down and immediately stated what was on his mind. "It's been two days now." Touji nodded. "And no sign of Ikari?" "None. Maya told me that the lights have all been out in Akumafune, and he hasn't been in class. Rei hasn't, either, but that's not so much of a surprise." "Didja go inside and look around?" "Touji, we've been through this," said Kensuke. "I'm not going in there. There isn't anyone who'll go in with me, and I'm not going in alone. So we're not getting in there. Now, I took a look in the windows, into Ikari's room, and I didn't see anything in there. I mean, I didn't see ANYTHING in there. No bed, no table, no nothing. That's too spooky for me, because Maya told me that she'd seen his shit in there." Kensuke moved his chair around to Touji's right side. "Listen to me, Touji. You've changed over the past coupla weeks, but I still know you pretty well. I know that you've got this bee in your bonnet about Ikari, and I understand that, but you have to know when to give it a rest. If Ikari doesn't want us to come get us, it doesn't matter if the whole damn school is pounding on the door, he's not coming out." Touji kept scowling. Kensuke leaned back in his chair, point made. "We've done all we can do, Touji. Come on. Let's play a game of chess or something." "Chrissake," Touji began, but then changed his thought. "You know, Kensuke, I'm going to do it. As soon as I can make it across campus, I'm going to go in after him." "Yeah, I know you are," Kensuke replied. He had been collecting the chess set and was setting it up on Touji's left side. "I believe you, too. Hell, I'll even go with you." They began their game, with Kensuke's queen's knight opening. -- To my father, I deeply regret having failed to be a good son for you. I have become neither the champion artist nor the proud warrior you wanted me to be, that you and my caretakers drove me to be. I haven't even been able to teach anyone what I know about how to fight with a sword. Since I came to Feuervogel, I have made no friends, only a series of people who felt sorry for me and who were friends when it suited them. I've squandered everything they've given me. I have reached the conclusion that I am unworthy of living. I hope that you will dispose of my body in a better manner than that which I deserve. Perhaps I will see hahaue in the next world. Forgive me for ending my life in this dishonorable fashion. Try to forget about me and get on with whatever kind of life it is you are leading now. Your son,Ikari Shinji Shinji had lost track of the time he had spent working on his final letter to his father. He wasn't satisfied with the latest revisions. However, he was becoming physically ill with a sensation like vertigo, so ill that he could not type one more word. Dizzy, almost crying, he saved the document to the desktop and switched off his computer. The only other things on his desk were a calligraphy brush, a piece of thick paper, an inkstone and a small dish filled with water. He had heard somewhere that the right thing to do before you slit your belly was to write a final poem, but inspiration hadn't come to him. The boy would leave everything as it was; perhaps someone would come along and write a death poem for Shinji. He stood, disrobed down to his shorts, picked up his toiletries and went to the door. To create as little mess as possible, he had decided that he would go to the bathroom and bathe, then drain the furo before killing himself so that whoever found his body wouldn't have to take the trouble. Already, Shinji had turned off the gas to the stove and shut off the electrical circuits. In fact, he was going to put together a list of things that had been done, but then realized that there was probably such a checklist already. Maybe the Housing Vice President came into a copy when she was elected. So he hadn't done anything. He opened the bedroom door and stumbled over a small box lying in the doorway. Shinji bent down and picked it up, amazed. Who had delivered a gift for him? Who had come inside the notorious dormitory? Why now? He closed the door behind him with confusion ringing in his ears, and he took the gift to the table to open it. It was a green cardboard box with a pink ribbon on top, tied in a bow. Shinji pulled the ribbon free, then awkwardly lifted the top off of the box. Inside was a girl's regulation seifuku. The card atop the kerchief said, "Be sure to look your best tomorrow!" Shinji stared at it for a half minute, not breathing the entire time. Then he slowly set the top to one side, reached into the box and drew out the uniform, holding it by the sides where the sleeves were folded down. He opened his mouth wide and bit down into the collar. At once he came alive, tearing the flimsy material with a firm jerk of his neck. And then, saliva dripping from his mouth, he spat out the torn remains and hurled the useless uniform across the room. Shinji dove for his packed duffel bag. He tore open the sides without even trying the zipper and drew out the bokken and the foil. He held them up in parallel, natural imperfection and pure steel. In the early evening sunset, lit by the window before him, they defined a phallus in negative space, or a doorway to unexplored dimensions. Half-naked, half-mad and armed, Ikari Shinji dove through the window face-first. His forehead broke the plane of the glass first, which spared his eyes from the flying shards. His scalp and cheeks weren't so lucky. A half a dozen slivers of glass cut into his hairline and were embedded there. Two others cut open his cheeks on either side of his face. One final piece, broken from the pane as his shoulders came through the window, cut a large slice along his right flank as he tumbled outside. His arc of motion carried him head over heels onto the ground; where he tumbled out from the curl, rolling onto his shoulders, bloodied but not broken. He met no other students on his mad rush across campus. In fact, it wasn't until Shinji was inside Nagamara Dormitory that he met another person, one of the students from abroad. "I say, what the bloody hell d'you thin--OH, JESUS CHRIST!" The other young men in the room dove out of Shinji's way. A path parted by screams of fear and horror opened up before him, and Shinji charged with no further obstructions up to the third floor. Instinct carried him down the hallway to a south-facing single room at the end of the hall; where, to his grim satisfaction, he saw the name "Kaji" written on a plaque by the door. Shinji kicked the door in and stormed inside. "Run," he shouted to the three nude underclasswomen sprawled out on the bed. In the middle of them, Kaji Ryouji gazed up at Shinji with amusement that thinly disguised genuine surprise. "Ikari-kun," he said, "you're supposed to knock..." "Fuck that," Shinji snarled as he lunged, driving his foil through the mattress to the hilt millimeters from Kaji's testicles. "Fuck your rules, fuck you, fuck everything. Since I showed up here I have been bullied, abused, insulted and generally treated like shit. I'm tired of your excuses. I don't care what my father did, or what this stupid ring is supposed to mean, or any of that." "Ahh," said Kaji as he removed his legs from the danger zone. "And that explains why you're covered in blood and bursting into my room uninvited...?" Shinji extracted the foil. "I want Rei back," he said. "She's the only person who's never held any prejudices against me. She didn't become my friend for any other reason. She's just Rei, that's all." "You're quite right," Kaji replied. "She is just Ayanami Rei. And nothing more...which means, of course, that she's the exclusive property of her owner, after all." Kaji was looking at something over Shinji's shoulder, next to the doorway. Shinji felt a chill wind along his back. Still with his weapons drawn, he took a step back on the mattress, then looked off to his left. Ayanami Rei was standing rigid by the chest of drawers, held to the nearest post of the bed by a length of chain. She was covering herself where the chain held her. The chain was not around her wrist. Her mouth was placid, and the muscles of her face were still, but in the corner of one eye Shinji saw a subtle reflection of light. Rei's eyes were moist. She was ashamed of her condition. He remembered the white night of the dance. "Give her back to me," Shinji shouted. "Give her back to me right now." "Ah, but that's not how it works, is it?" Kaji said reproachfully. "We, the Council, or rather, me in trust for them, have control of Shekhinah as..." Shinji was seething with rage. "God damn it! You want rules? You really think a human soul can be governed by your goddam rules? Fine. I challenge you to a Duel, kaishou. Right now." "Now that's more like it, Ikari-kun. I'll tentatively accept, but I need the full approval of the Council, since after--" "If I cut off your balls right now and stuff them down your throat, is there some friggin' protocol about how you'll get 'em back?" "Oh, well, if you insist..." -- Still wearing only underclothes and a layer of dried blood, Shinji walked back across campus to the column. As on his first day in Feuervogel, as on every day when there had been a Duel, he opened the hidden door, stepped inside, and allowed himself to be carried to the Arena. But this was a different day. It had been a day of angry stares and dark thoughts. And yet, even as the seven hooks seized ahold of him, Shinji paid them no mind. They were simply a consequence of what he was doing, and what he was doing was nothing less than the right thing. Rei was a real person, not chattel. Rei deserved the freedom to break free, perchance to stay with him. So when he arrived in the Dueling Arena, without thinking he landed on his feet and walked to the center. The Dueling Arena was arranged like a gigantic tennis court, a green ceramic expanse, flat in the microscale but bowed towards the middle. Though there was more than enough ambient light to see, the clouds overhead were whipping along on an intangible breeze. Storms were coming. At his approach, Rei rose from the wicker chair she sat in and walked to Kaji's side. She took a couple of shuffled steps to move into position, then leaned back to have him catch her in his arms. A moment later, she contorted and her mouth fell open. The bright light poured out and Kaji drew out the sword. He said, "Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ!" With those words, Rei allowed her mouth to close and staggered to her feet. She walked slowly over to Shinji and, not looking him in the face, pressed the palm of her hand up to the center of his chest. The cut that had been torn open on his right side spontaneous extended itself, cutting a furrow across Shinji's ribs to his middle. Just above the solar plexus, at the cartilaginous end of his sternum, the wound appeared to burrow inside of Shinji. His skin peeled open along a ragged edge. Then his ribcage itself cracked open and a small piece of Shinji's own heart wiggled out into the open air. Rei stepped away from him, still avoiding his gaze. "Rei," Shinji said calmly, "don't worry. Everything's going to be all right." Kaji advanced at an andante pace with the blade held diagonally across his chest. He was expecting Shinji to favor the foil in his left hand; although it was the weaker of his two sword hands, the bokken was heavy and difficult to use with one hand. When Shinji swung the bokken and connected with Kaji's shoulder, he was every bit as surprised as he was hurt by the strike. He tried to counter with a thrust at Shinji's heart, but the boy was already parrying with his foil. Shinji feinted with the other weapon, forcing Kaji off-balance with his needless parry and giving Shinji space to score a touche with his foil. The next three blows served to further confound Kaji's rhythm; and Shinji used the opportunity to close the distance between the two. By keeping barely an arm's reach away from Kaji, Shinji could use his smaller foil without giving his opponent enough room to swing his own blade. Kaji didn't realize the true purpose of the strategy until it was too late. He had finally parried Shinji's foil and was pushing him back, trying to get the necessary few extra centimeters of space, when Shinji gave him a crushing blow to the hand and forearm with his bokken. The force drove the sword out of Kaji's hand onto the ground. Shinji thrust with the foil. Already confused and slightly off-balance, Kaji tripped over his own two feet and sprawled out on the floor of the Arena. The Angel's Heart fell off of his coat. Shinji stepped over the sword and pointed his foil between Kaji's eyes. "SHINJI!" Both boys glanced across the Arena with surprise. Ayanami Rei, unquestionably crying, had shouted a familiar name. "It is over, Shinji," Rei said in her usual soft tone. She said the words through gentle tears. Shinji glanced from Rei to Kaji's sprawled-out form and back again. Then he said sharply, "Kaishou, I want you to apologize to Rei for what you made her do." There was a long, tense moment. Then Kaji Ryouji said, "Ayanami...I really am sorry. I did it only because I wanted to make Ikari angry. I thought he'd be a lousy fighter if he was afraid for you. It wasn't anything personal. If it hadn't been for these circumstances, I wouldn't have done anything." After a moment more, Shinji stepped away from Kaji and went to Rei's side. "Kaishou," he said, "I want to continue this chat we were having during the last Duel some time later. But I'm going home now. Goodbye." The pair turned and, side by side, walked away. -- "Oh, no." "Ikari, you idiot." "What have you done now?" -- The lights were still off in Akumafune when Shinji and Rei entered their room. Somewhere along the way, Shinji's arm had gone around Rei's waist, and they had become aware of the body heat they shared. It was the cool of the day. The two were alone. Unspoken words, whispers, hung in the air like wisps of fog. "Rei," Shinji asked, "are you all right?" "I hurt," she replied. The muscles in Shinji's arm tensed. "Did he hurt you?" he said. Anger ran like an underground river through his voice. "No," came her answer. "It...isn't that kind of a hurt." He moved around to face her, keeping his right hand around her waist. Going by his natural inclinations and by his sense of touch, he placed his left arm around her shoulder. Rei took a sharp breath. "More..." Shinji drew close. Their thighs were touching. The cotton of Shinji's underpants was brushing up against an unknown warmth. "More...more..." Rei's own arms rose, wrapping across Ikari Shinji's back. The soft flesh of forearms pressed hard, perpendicular to his spine. She coughed, she gasped, she...sobbed. Ayanami Rei pressed her cheek against Shinji's and cried openly. He rocked back and forth, side to side, listening to the changes in the rhythm of her wailing, unsure of quite how to say what was inside of him. "What's happening?" she said at length. "Shinji, what's happened to me? It still hurts, but it hurts in a...different way. It hurts like being with you hurts me sometimes. I don't understand it. I'm frightened." "It's relief," he answered. "It's because it's all over, Rei. You're mine now, and...and I say you can visit Touji-kun, and invite Maya over, and do whatever you want." "Is that so?" "Yes." "I...I want you, Shinji." There was a light in her eyes that cut through the darkness of the room. Her eyes were red like blood and sugar. She didn't understand the full meaning of the words, and she didn't need to; all she knew was the taste of the feelings that ran from her palate all throughout her body. Shinji looked at Rei. He felt her in his arms. In his mind, he remembered the depths of that morning--that very morning, so long ago-- and how he had said that there was nothing in his life. He had learned how wrong he had been. There was someone worth risking whatever last drops of strength and sanity he carried inside of him, and that person was who he held in his arms. "I want you too, Rei." He lifted up her chin and kissed her. He could barely feel her lips in the excitement of the moment, but he could taste the sensation on her breath and the electricity inside her. She was like a mushroom growing in the midnight hour, soft and delicious. Curved and supple. Rei pulled closer in to him, as though hoping that they might fuse together into a single organism. Her hands traced roads across Shinji's back, touching and feeling, drawing on his strength. She felt as if she was glowing, radiant, beneath the aura of his touch. And all at once he was moving, bending her backward, raining kisses along the warmth of her neck and jaw. Was it possible for her to feel any closer to ecstasy? Her sensitive nipples rubbed up against his chest as she squirmed, and she breathed the tide of the night deep inside of her. >From the room up above them, a noise broke in on their loveplay. It was a sharp, raspy sound, sort of like a wrought iron bed frame being dragged across the floor. Shinji froze. "What was that?" he asked aloud. "What? That?" "That noise. You heard it?" "Yes..." Reluctant to disengage herself, Rei nevertheless eased onto her own two feet. "I don't know, I haven't ever heard anything like that before." "I guess I'd better go see what it is." Shinji slipped on his pants and picked his shirt up off the floor. "I will wait for you," she put in as he left. It was dawn before she admitted to herself that something had gone terribly wrong.