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?" -- Humans were not meant to be alive at night. Traveling by night, studying by night; these constituted minor acts of rebellion against one's evolutionary heritage. The mere presence of a dark sky, even one simply overcast, made the spirit grim and determined. It was sometime after dark. Shinji had no way of guessing the time, but his body felt exhausted. It could be the witching hour. Tired beyond caring, he didn't feel up to dealing with the serious circumstances of his life. That morning, he had been without anywhere to live, without anything to do. Nothing had changed, if his memory was correct. According to that memory, he had been ejected from his dormitory, his future place to call home, because he was a boy and not a girl. That conflict--perhaps on more than one level--had not been settled. Somewhere, however, he had decided that everything was simply a compendium of wrong memories. Right after his arrival, he had fallen asleep at the foot of the tower and slumbered undisturbed through the day. There was no combat arena, no assault. He would have a fresh chance to move into the dormitory and begin his new life. Then he met a girl. She had been in the arena with him--he knew that for certain. She stepped out into his path as he passed by the library building. Under the streetlight, she wore shadows like symbiotic fungi that stretched from beneath her blue hair across her pale skin. "Ikari Shinji," the girl said. "I am Ayanami Rei. I am Shekhinah...I am your bride, now and forever." "Eh? My what?" "I am your bride." The girl stepped towards him. Her facial expression was completely blank. She was offering him her life as one might measure a quantity of salt for brine. "We are meant to be together, Ikari Shinji." _Meant to be together,_ he thought. He reached up and touched his left shoulder. Sure enough, there was a gash in the flesh above his collarbone. He touched the wound, and felt pain. He looked at his fingertips and saw the blood. "Oh, shit!" he gasped. "Am I bleeding?" "No, you are not," the girl named Ayanami Rei said flatly. "Nor are you in any danger. Your wound has clotted." In confusion, Shinji's eyes wandered back to the blood on his fingertips. Finally he gazed back up to his newfound companion. "Rei? What exactly do you mean, my bride?" "I mean that we are to live together as bride and bridegroom." "But I don't understand what that means, I don't understand anything about what's going on!" Shinji's rose in register and volume. "Rei, look. This morning, I was just the new transfer student, now I'm suddenly the victor of a duel to the death and I'm married. I have no idea what's happening to me, and I have no idea who to ask about it all. Can you help me? Please? Just a little?" Rei frowned very slightly, in confusion. "How can I help you?" "All right, let's start out with what just happened to me. Why did I get challenged to a duel?" "It is because your father represents something that Akagi-sempai hates and fears. Many people here hate and fear what your father represents." Rei's tone of voice implied that she was not one of them. "As a way of accepting her hate and fear, as well as escaping her responsibility, Akagi- sempai challenged you to the Duel." "So now," Shinji concluded, "everyone's going to be challenging me, right?" "That is not correct." Rei took hold of Shinji's left hand. Her hands were cold like burnished steel. She touched the ring on Shinji's finger, she touched it reverently. "Only those with the Seal of the Living Rose are Duelists. Only those members of the student council possess the Seal. Except you. I cannot be sure why you are so exceptional." Shinji withdrew his hand from Rei's grip and looked at the ring. "This ring," he said. "My father sent me off to live with my uncle...then my uncle sent me to live with one of my teachers. This ring is really everything I've ever had to remind me of him, and hope that some day he'd come back to me." There was a momentary pause before Rei remarked, "The design is pleasing to my eyes." Shinji couldn't think of what to say in response. "Thank you" didn't seem to be appropriate for something that he had nothing to do with, and had incidentally dragged him into life-threatening trouble. He decided to change the subject. "So, do you know where my stuff ended up?" "I believe that your backpack is at the front of Kazarashi Dormitory," Rei said, "along with my own belongings." The word "dormitory" sparked in his mind thoughts of sleep and relaxation. Shinji's bodily weariness was joined by a tiredness with the state of the world, an overpowering desire to escape all the chaos of the material plane. "In that case," he sighed, "we'd better go see what's the story over there." "Very well. Come along." Shinji looked down. A small penguin had waddled out from the shadows and was following Rei towards the dormitories. The boy groaned: the material plane showed no signs of letting up at all. A three minute walk brought them to the front of Kazarashi. At the door was Shinji's backpack and a box he assumed was Rei's personal belongings. It was a smallish box. Taped to the box was a note. Rei took it and read aloud, "'There's room for the two of you in the haunted dormitory next door.' Shall we go?" Shinji shuddered "'Haunted dormitory'? Why is it called that?" "Everyone who ever lived in that dormitory was killed." Only Rei's frank tone of voice kept Shinji from screaming in cowardice. As it was, he had enough disbelief to ask the asinine question, "The same way?" "Not precisely the same," Rei answered. Akumafune Dormitory was constructed exactly like its neighbor, and Shinji had his first glimpse back into the dormitory proper. All the rooms were identical doubles. There was a bunk bed in the corner next to the window. On the other side of the window was a wardrobe, and opposite the bed was a chest of drawers. A low table took up the center of the carpeted floor. To one side of the main room was a kitchenette, and to the other was a shower bathroom. There was a furo at the end of each floor; all of the furo in Akumafune were dry. The penguin, who Rei called Pen- pen, refused to let Shinji do anything else until he filled up the furo. While Rei took her shower, Shinji brought out his SDAT player and began a trek through Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. It was a nice, bland piece of Impressionist music, and it suited Shinji's feelings. He had no grasp on his internal turmoil, only vague impressions about he was feeling. He felt angry, deep inside, and he felt ashamed of his anger. He felt scared about what was going on around him, and that only made him angrier. And worst of all, he felt weak and powerless. Part, he reasoned, was the lateness of the hour. Exhaustion devoured him like worms. But overwhelmingly, it was the sheer hopelessness of his situation. He had been cast into a kind of reverse Shangri-La, where--removed from the cares of the ordinary world--each minute dragged by, filled with pain and uncertainty, as he was tormented by rules and authorities he could not reckon with any other way. As the "Tuileries" section continued, Shinji rolled over onto his stomach and stared at the window, not through it. "Tomorrow," he mused, "tomorrow is another day, my first real opportunity to make some sense out of life here. Today doesn't count. Today is just gone. Tomorrow I can figure out this place, and make some sense out of today then. 'Til then...there's just nothing worth salvaging. It's a total write-off. Forget it all." Rei emerged from the bathroom and, still very warm and damp from her shower, crawled into bed beside Shinji. "REI!" Shinji shrieked, "What in God's name are you doing in my bed?" "I am your bride," she responded without concern. "Do we not sleep together as bride and bridegroom?" "Yes! Uh, yes, we don't. Rei, you can have the bottom bunk. Down there. Wait." "Yes?" Shinji shook his head. "You can't sleep naked. Put on a nightgown, or whatever it is you do." "I have no nightgown. This is how I always have slept." "You can't, Rei, it's just not...look." He got down out of bed, being careful not to touch Rei as he descended. Quickly rummaging through his backpack, he pulled out a clean button-down shirt and handed it to the pale girl. "Wear this. Please. And some underpants." "Very well." Rei dressed herself in the shirt. As she went to her box to get herself some underclothes, Pen-pen announced his return very loudly from the hallway outside. Shinji opened the door, and the bird scampered in to take Shinji's place in the upper bunk. "Pen-pen, get out of my bed." No response. "Pen-pen, now. Please." Still no response. "All right." Seizing the bird beneath the wings, and braving the infuriated squawking and flapping, Shinji slipped the bird in between Rei's arms. He was rewarded with a disgruntled but pacified penguin and a slumbering roommate. Despite himself, despite all of the pain and disorder around him, Shinji smiled. From out of chaos and emptiness, he had achieved momentary equanimity in his life. He put out the light and crawled back into his bed. -- Dust motes swirled around and around each other. Their gyrations, their acrobatics, were beyond the norm. The air itself was placid, except for three fans that cooled three identical computer monitors. That whirring was the only sound, until the monitors began to converse. "Have you heard? Have you heard? There's a new person living in the haunted dormitory." "The haunted dormitory? Isn't that where all those people died?" "Goodness, no! The corpses were found here and there and everywhere." "The corpses were of people who once lived in the dormitory. It isn't the same thing at all." "But did you hear the most interesting thing about the dormitory's occupant?" "He's the new boy." "The new boy with the ring." "The new boy with the Seal of the Living Rose." "And he already has the bride." "Incredible! But he isn't a Duelist, I thought." "He was not, but there's no denying it now." "It's too late to change what is in the past." -- Shinji was dressed in a clean but wrinkled shirt and yesterday's slacks, while Rei was wearing her school uniform. Her uniforms seemed to be the only clothes she owned. Pen-pen rode lazily atop Shinji's backpack, resting his head against Shinji's as he grabbed a few last winks of sleep. "Homeroom begins at nine," Rei explained. "We will be in classes until just before lunch, when I have physical education. Afterwards, there will be lunch, and more classes until three." Shinji nodded. Since he had no official schedule, he had decided to follow Rei's until he learned what to do. "But it isn't quite eight yet, Rei. Where are we going?" "I garden." The boy was aware of the presence of other people in the courtyard as he and Rei walked up to the greenhouse. From out of her attache case Rei drew an ornate golden key and opened the door. Inside, the humidity and plant life hushed all ambient sounds. Shinji was overwhelmed by the volume of white roses that surrounded him. They grew from bushes planted in dirt rows, from trellises lining the walls, and even like vines from boxes and baskets overhead. Each and every blossom was full and open, as if hungering for manna from the morning sun. While Rei donned a pair of gardening gloves and set about watering the rose beds, Shinji walked around the greenhouse, marveling at the superorganism. Presently, he began to pick out different varieties of roses. Some had wide open blossoms, and some were tight like minarets. Some had broad leaves on the stems, and some offered no protection at all from their thorns. It wasn't long before he had circumnavigated the entire greenhouse, so he watched Rei as she watered. She was precise and applied in her watering. Shinji could also see that she took care to make certain each and every plant received water. Periodically, she would set aside her hose and remove a wilted blossom. He was impressed by her work. "You must really love the roses here," he remarked. Rei ceased her watering immediately and stared at him in confusion. "Love?" she said. "How do you mean?" "You know." He gestured with his hands indicating the entire greenhouse. "Just how much care and attention you give the flowers, Rei." "Is that what love is?" After overcoming his surprise, the boy found that he was of two minds about the question. On the one hand, he suspected that it was, and wanted very much to tell her so. On the other, he couldn't explain why it was love, or even what constituted love in general. Would she ask? Instead, Shinji chose neither option. He explained, "It's a kind of love. It's showing that, you know, you believe in your roses enough to want the best for them." Rei made no reply. Reluctantly, clearly deep in thought, she returned to her duty. Shinji turned his attention back to the garden again. A question came into his mind. "Rei? How come you don't have any red flowers?" >From behind him came the sound of the hose hitting the concrete walkway. But when Shinji turned to look, Rei was calm again. She said, "I do not like the color red." Then she bent and picked up the hose. Shinji was surprised again by her responses. He asked, "Why not?" When she did not answer, he repeated the question. "Why don't you like red?" At long last she said, slowly and cautiously, "Red is the color of blood. I...do not like to think about bleeding. Or meat without blood." Just when he thought she was finished, Rei added, "Red is also the color of excitement. I prefer not to dwell upon excitement." The boy made no reply. It seemed to him that Ayanami was operating by her own esoteric logic, something he was not yet privy to. He wondered if he ever would, or the use of trying, or even what he would do if he ever could crawl inside her head. It was a few minutes before nine when Rei announced that she was finished. As they left the greenhouse, she paused to set a timer next to the door. The door closed behind them, and a fine mist accumulated at the upper reaches of the greenhouse, moving to the roses at the speed of air friction. Rei was finishing her watering from the top down. They walked side by side along an overhung path, up a flight of steps, and into a classroom on the second floor. The room was about twelve by twelve meters, with room for thirty desks. Each desk had a small computer built into its top, with a wireless connection to an intranet hub in the ceiling. At the front of the classroom was a large digital whiteboard; every stroke of the pen would be recorded on the personal computers. If Shinji had looked closely, he would have noticed that the chairs and desks were real wood, not plastic imitations. The boy was trying, and failing, to look nonchalant under the gazes of his fellow students. For a number of reasons, there was no respite. He was not in their uniform. He was walking with a girl. This girl, it seemed, was already well-known to the student body. There was also the fact that, no matter where he had been in his days on Earth, he was always the one out of place, the one pushed forward and left behind. The real reason, he suspected, was that word of his Duel the day before had already spread. And he was not surprised in the least when, as he sat down, a voice shouted, "Hey! You're him!" With trepidation, he looked for the speaker. It was a boy with tousled brown hair and glasses. On the front of his jacket were pinned several bars of merit, all camouflage in pattern. The boy seated himself on top of the desk Shinji's backed. Exuberant, he repeated the conclusion, "You're him!" and pointed for effect. "What do you mean?" Shinji said, feigning ignorance. "You're the guy who sent Akagi to the infirmary, right?" The boy's eyes had an unhealthy gleam. "You gave her a goddam concussion with just a sword HANDLE. That's some pretty impressive stuff. Welcome to Feuervogel, I'm Aida Kensuke. Do you know about guns?" "Eh? Concussion?" Kensuke swept on. "I can convert an American M1 semiautomatic rifle to fully automatic in fifteen minutes with a file. Actually, I've never DONE it, but I know what to do." "Hold up." Shinji moved closer to Kensuke. "What do you mean, I sent Akagi-san to the infirmary with a concussion?" "Well," Kensuke explained, "I only got the thing secondhand from Touji when he got back. Apparently, she challenged you to a duel, and you only had a shinai, right?" Shinji nodded. "'Kay. All I know is that Ayanami brought Akagi-sempai to the infirmary with--and I don't have the whole laundry list--but multiple blows to the head and face, including a broken nose and two black eyes. That's the source of the concussion. Plus multiple body bruises and a couple of cracked ribs. Touji also said she had a bite mark on her forearm, but I think that's just a bunch of BS." "...bite mark?" Shinji squeaked. "Right here's where he said. Just below the wrist on the underside of the arm. But," Kensuke waggled his finger for effect, "I'm guessing it was a scratch from when she was trying to fend off an attack to the face. She must've been holding her arm up like this...see?" Shinji was paying him no mind. What kind of savagery had he done in the arena the day before? The last thing he could really remember was hitting Ritsuko in the face with his shinai guard. Where had this...barbarism...come from? Could it have been... "I need," Shinji said shakily, "to talk to this Touji guy you mentioned just now. Any idea where I can find him?" Kensuke smirked. "Actually, he's right behind you. Touji, don't look so pissed." "Up yours." Shinji looked over his shoulder in fear. Behind him was a boy slightly taller than himself, with a mat of black hair and a grim countenance. He had the uncouth look of a Kansai boy. His arms were akimbo across the front of his jacket. As Shinji glanced at Touji's torso, he saw a rose-crested ring on the boy's left hand. "You all rearranged Ritsuko-sempai's face," he growled. "Hell, she's going to be laid up for three days AND THEN she's gonna have to wear a nose protector for two months. And you all got the goddam balls to do it when you ain't spent ten minutes in this here school. You, new kid," he said, pressing up against Shinji, "make me SICK." Shinji's eyes were fastened on the floor. "Sorry," he managed to say after a couple of false starts. "'Sorry'? Like HELL you are, bozo!" Touji countered. "You are a goddam animal, that's what you are. And I ain't gonna stand for an animal in this class no more." Shinji knew that the eyes of the class were on him. In the few minutes since his entrance, the room had filled with his classmates. There was nowhere to hide. His pulse was racing. His head was filling with visions of retaliation. It would only be moments until his self-control was gone. "Don't..." he stammered, "don't make me..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought, and Touji jumped in. "Don't make you WHAT? Take responsibility for what y'all've done?" "Touji-kun, no!" a girl said from the front of the classroom. Shinji looked toward her, hoping for a way out. Then his vision derailed: Touji had grabbed his shirt collar and pulled the boy out of his chair. "Kid, you and me's going to have a little fight. Right now. In the Dueling Arena." Gasps could be heard all around the room. In the next seat over, Rei rose up out of her chair, resolute. Careful not to let anything fall into his grip, Shinji tried one last tactic. "We have class..." he whined. "Now." "It is decided," Rei declared softly.