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?"
--
Shinji lay awake upon his bed, staring at the familiar ceiling. Through 
the haze of his last night's sleep, he remembered what had come before: 
the unearthly arrival of the third resident of Akumafune Dormitory.

"Now two are three, and three are like one!" the new one said 
cryptically, his smile never faltering.

"Who are you?" Shinji asked.

"'Who am I' is a difficult question to answer indeed, my friend, as I am 
not contemporaneous with all. Hence, not static. _Any_ definition of 
myself would then be inaccurate, or incomplete. However, a name confers 
a sense of definition. A map will stand for the territory, though 
erosion and construction level the mountains themselves. Hold that 
thought for the morning. In the mean time, though, I call myself Rahamim 
Tabris. If that's a bit much for you to place on your tongue," he added, 
extending a hand, "call me Nagisa Kaworu. It's a good name."

With fear plain on his face, Shinji had nonetheless taken one of the 
boy's beautiful hands in his own and shook it. "I'm Ikari Shinji," he 
said. Gesturing to Rei he added, "This is Ayanami Rei. She and I live 
together, we're quite close."

Rei had bowed deeply, reluctant to take her eyes off of the newcomer's. 
She introduced herself simply: "Rei. A pleasure." The girl made no 
effort to cover her nudity.

"Likewise," replied Kaworu, "and that on the bed is a penguin." His 
glance, Shinji thought, was appraising but not predatory. There was no 
territory he wished to stake out as his own. It was a mathematician's 
glance across the pages of a mathematical proof.

"If you've no objection," Kaworu said to them, "I would like to sit." 
And he had seated himself immediately, cross-legged, obscuring his 
genitalia. Rei sat as well, and Shinji followed. He had found himself 
staring once again into the boy's smiling face, and his eyes, more red 
than ruby, more precious than rubies.

"Tomorrow, when we are all rested," said Kaworu, apropos of nothing, 
"you will begin your training."

"Eh? My what?"

"Your training," Kaworu said again. He explained. "See me, friend 
Shinji. You are worthy of being loved. All are worthy of being loved. 
Saints, priests, abbesses, laity, royalty, the innocent, the ignorant, 
thieves, arsonists, rapists, murderers, there is not one soul throughout 
Creation that is not worthy. Even you--a boy poised on the razor's edge 
between joy and misery, and terrified of the choice before him--you are 
worthy of being loved. Everyone is free to find grandeur and draw closer 
to God. But to fathom this love, if one is not innocent, requires 
courage and a means to the end. Though your lot may be scripted by great 
and beastly persons, you--who walk in faith and embrace the love that 
grows like vetch around you--can grow stronger than the material Earth 
itself. And you do not walk alone. You are flesh and blood as well as 
spirit, you cannot find holiness by yourself. I can help you."

Shinji asked, "I don't remember doing anything, why are you here? Why 
not somebody else, if everyone's like you said, worthy of being loved? 
Why not Touji or Maya or...?" He trailed off.

"Because, consciously or not, you have reached out further than all. You 
are desperate for love--you know it to be true when I say it, friend 
Shinji. And this desperation has built a framework in your psyche, the 
framework to lay a foundation. From this Foundation comes all.

"My job, beginning on the morrow when we are all rested, is to help you 
see the love around you. It will come at a price, I fear, and I will 
tell you this now. There will be much else on the pathway, much else. 
Fear and madness the most of all. But the further you go, the more you 
will find you do not walk alone. I will be close by you even while you 
walk the path. This will give you the courage you need to succeed, I 
believe it with all of my heart and soul."

Kaworu had shortly asked for a blanket to sleep on. That had ended the 
night before. Now, in the morning, Shinji saw that the boy was awake and 
standing at his bedside, effervescently smiling. He wore one of Shinji's 
button down shirts and a pair of his trousers, with a golden orange 
undershirt.

"Good morning, Shinji," he said in his melodious voice. "Are you ready 
to begin the day?"

Shinji sat bolt upright. Pointing at Kaworu's clothes, he stammered, 
"That--that's--those are my clothes you've got on, you're wearing."

"They are," Kaworu replied. "I thought it more probable that you would 
be offended by my nudity than reluctant to loan me some of your 
clothing. Was I incorrect? Should I disrobe?"

"Ah...no." Shinji came down off the top bunk and fairly glowered at 
Kaworu. "Just don't go taking things without my permission again."

"I've made breakfast," Kaworu said, "and I've fed the penguin. Does this 
constitute an imposition as well?"

Shinji glanced down and back to the table where Rei and he ate their 
meals. "Breakfast?"

"In the kitchen. I will show you." He pushed open the door, swishing 
aside dust from the last night's invasion by the Living Rose. Rei, half 
awake and still dressed for sleep, followed the two boys out to the 
kitchen where a simple but beautiful meal awaited them. The feast was 
not only savory to smell, with pickles and miso mingling in the confines 
of the room, but it was delightful to look at. Kaworu had found a 
matching series of red lacquer bowls and filled the largest with rice 
and miso, and the flanking ones with pickled daikon and other 
vegetables. They sat bright and cheery in the middle of an early-morning 
sunbeam that sang down from the east, cutting through the grays and haze 
in the unlit kitchen.

Shinji stood in awe. "That's beautiful, Kaworu," he said softly. "It's 
so sublime...I'm reluctant to eat it."

"But you must," the boy said in a gentle reprimand. "It's food, and you 
need food to survive. To me, the artist, there could be few higher joys 
than for my audience to respect the beauty laid out before you in order 
to keep yourself healthy. Eat, and take that beauty into you. Say grace, 
and bring the whole closer to God. Flesh and blood though you may be, 
you can give that flesh and blood so much more than what it demands.

"Shinji," he went on as they three breakfasted in the kitchen, "I ask 
you to forgive my rudeness as I would forgive your wrongnesses. You see, 
much of human society remains a mystery to me. I'm like Rei. But while 
friend Rei reacts with fear or ignorance, I choose--or perhaps am 
obligated, I'm not sure which is the right word--to do what shall be 
done of my own free will. Free will is a terrible responsibility. Don't 
you agree?"

"I guess..."

"Come, come can you do any better than that? As your soon-to-be 
instructor, I'm curious to see what you have to say about free will."

Shinji pushed dregs of miso around in his bowl before he answered. "I 
don't know. I hadn't ever thought about it." The bowl in his hands shook 
slightly. He set it down on the table and sat on his hands. "I've got a 
gut feeling like I should have an opinion. But I don't. I've never 
considered...free will. Or fate, for that matter."

"If you will pardon the imposition of my speaking for you." Kaworu 
counted on his fingers. "Shinji, in the past few hours, you have 
discovered your primal Oedipus complex made real by your father's wanton 
annihilation of the universe, and by your mother's creation of a 
simulacrum endowed with some aspect of her persona. As a result, you 
have become alienated from your friends and twice-hated by your 
enemies."

At this, Shinji slumped forward, wet eyes focused on the floor. But 
Kaworu's tone of voice did not change. "The ocean of despair rages and 
churns outside of the dormitory. The question of whether or not you will 
find a reason to keep living outside of Akumafune is directly related to 
this question. Viz, is there hope that you can restore your humanity in 
the eyes of your peers? Or are you condemned to ride on the wings of the 
will of others?"

Kaworu looked at Shinji. The brown-haired boy's gaze shifted from his 
breakfast companion to Rei, the empty space between them and the table 
they held communion at. After great, great consideration, he croaked, "I 
guess..."

"But you can know."

Shinji riveted his gaze on the other boy as Kaworu pulled something, a 
large folded piece of paper, from out of his back pocket. "I will teach 
you, Shinji, and then you will un-learn. And you must not hesitate to 
unlearn as much as you learn. More if you can. Tell me, what is this 
that I'm laying out here in front of you?"

Eager for some alternative to the admission of his own cowardice, Shinji 
padded over to look. It was a large piece of paper with a picture 
printed upon the upper side. The picture was a representation of several 
islands off the eastern coast of China and Korea, running roughly 
northeast to southwest. Particular towns and land forms were indicated 
by labels and symbols. A scale at the bottom of the picture read 
1:3,000,000. Uncertain as to how to answer, Shinji said, "That's a map 
of Japan."

"Yes. And only a map, right? If I put my thumb down over Tokyo, the city 
won't get squashed, will it?"

"Um, no."

"This is the difference between learning and unlearning, Shinji. 
Learning is the map, but unlearning is the territory. Learning is a blue 
line that wiggles and squiggles northeast to southwest, but unlearning 
is the mighty raging river. Both have their merits. I prefer one to the 
other."

"You can?" Rei asked incredulously.

"Yes. And do you know why?"

Shinji looked from one to the other, bride to guest and back again. In 
response, Kaworu's smile inched up even broader. "I must beg your 
forgiveness again, Shinji. It would make your training, today's most 
especially, quite difficult if I was to enlighten you prematurely. I 
shall cloak myself in...call it an aura of mystery."

"This...teaching you mentioned a minute ago," asked Shinji, not yet 
pacified, "is this the training you've been telling me about? I'm 
supposed to begin this today?"

"Ah, not exactly," Kaworu said, intertwining his fingers and resting his 
fists on the table. "You've already begun your training. You believe in 
your fundamental equality to others, and you believe in higher forces in 
the universe. This is part of where you have come from. But you do not 
appreciate these gifts as you could. And that will be today's lesson--
Yesod, Foundation."

"'Foundation'? Wait, now I'm really confused." Shinji shook his head. 
"You said that I had already started my training, but _this_ is actually 
the foundation?"

"Awareness must come before cognition," said Kaworu. "In the journey and 
in all things. Let us wash the dishes and then discuss the Foundation."
--
Shinji had never seen Rei do anything and be distracted from it. She 
herself would not have even been able to explain her actions. Yet as she 
watered flowers, measured pH and looked for vegetable rust, her ability 
to concentrate was forfeited. Her attention was split between the two 
boys, dressed in matching dark pants and button-downs, talking in hushed 
voices on the other side of the greenhouse. Kaworu and Shinji spoke as 
if they were discussing a great secret. It was so truly great because of 
its obviousness, once it was looked for. None searched it out, and so 
none saw.

"Let me begin our study of Yesod," Kaworu said, "by saying that we will 
be discussing particular things as if they were corporeal. This may or 
may not be true. But it is necessary to facilitate communication. I 
write the word "red", but I need not use red ink, because the abstract 
idea is communicated regardless of the medium. Do you know the etymology 
of the English word 'Angel'?"

Shinji nodded, passing over the sudden change of subject. "My teacher 
Professor Fuyutsuki mentioned it once. It comes from the Greek word 
_______, which means 'messenger'."

"Correct. An angel is a concept, but you may think of it as a being of 
prayers. These messengers become stronger and better-defined through 
human activity, and help to establish the Kingdom of God here on Earth. 
When people put their minds and hearts towards a common concept
--
love, peace, fire, what have you--the angel grows strong. And may even 
move closer to God."

"Ah. So what do you mean by 'human activity'?"

"I mean virtuous behavior, friend Shinji. The actions of the righteous. 
It is written," said Kaworu, moving slightly closer to Shinji, "'The 
righteous one is an everlasting foundation.' As the people of this world 
work to open themselves to the Holy One, blessed be He, then Yesod is 
strengthened and the Godhead moves closer. By contrast, if people 
indulge themselves in the things of this world--God forbid!--then Yesod 
weakens and the Holy One withdraws." Kaworu paused to take a deep breath 
of the rich moist air and concluded, "Thus righteousness strengthens the 
bond between Heaven and Earth. Engenders it, if you will."

Shinji was quiet for quite a long moment, shuffled back and forth, then 
said, "So what's righteous behavior? I'm not sure I know."

"Are you sure?" Kaworu asked, smiling very broadly. "You have searched 
out friends, worked hard at school, respected your teachers, kept a pet 
happy and healthy, and loved a young woman with such compassion it would 
make angels of demons."

The boy blushed, overcome with embarrassment and modesty. He said 
quietly, "Well...maybe. I certainly couldn't put it in to words. Could 
you...help me? What do you think, Kaworu-kun?"

Kaworu had been staring with rapt joy at a particular white rose, 
following the geometry of the petals, examining the folds and curves 
with a superhuman intensity. Shinji wasn't sure his question had been 
heard. He was on the point of asking it again when Kaworu said, so 
frankly it was almost flippant, "Righteous behavior is that by which the 
Kingdom of God is established on Earth."

He raised his dawn red eyes from the white flowers and remarked, "That 
was an important question to ask, Shinji. Some people spend their lives 
without asking it."

"But...that's circular reasoning!" Shinji came back. In the warmth of 
the greenhouse, the words became more antsy than they otherwise would 
have. "You just said that it was _how_ the Kingdom of God or whatever 
happened. It doesn't make any sense."

"Which is why," the pale boy put in, "we begin our discussion with 
angels. I will give you an angel's name, ask you to say it, ask you to 
learn it. Once you learn the name, you will begin to have power. A 
foundation. And because you are good with languages, Shinji my friend, 
it should present no problem. The name is...Temleyakos."

"Te...mmm...llle...yaaaa...ko...sss." Whether it was the warmth, the 
fear of his instructor turned to anger, or the unconscious association 
of language talent with his erstwhile language instructor, Shinji said 
the name with more than a little ire in his voice. But Kaworu smiled a 
congratulatory smile, and passion ebbed on the heels of success. The 
human heart. "Temleyakos," Shinji repeated.

"Very well done," said Kaworu. He explained and elaborated. "Temleyakos 
is the name of the Angel of Cruelty, or the Merciless Angel. When people 
are undergoing baptism by fire, it is through him that they pray, 
consciously or not. Temleyakos spares no sin. And yet, because people 
hold their sins and weaknesses to them, they feel pain. If the people 
were without sin, they would feel no pain."

"So that's why he's called the Merciless Angel."

"Exactly. Very good. Now here comes the difficult part to follow. This 
is the central dogma--axiom, principle, thesis, call it what you will--
of Temleyakos. That is, that belief cannot begin in the material world. 
You must search for belief. You must reach out towards God and try to 
find greatness. Most likely, you will fail. In part. And then the 
Merciless Angel will be there to take away the sin."

Deep in thought, Shinji allowed Kaworu to put his arm across his 
shoulders and lead him outside to the cool of the summer morning; Rei 
had finished her work in the greenhouse and was standing by the door, 
setting the times on the sprinkler. "But the wise, Shinji, do not give 
up. They accept the Cruel Angel, who grants mercy through the cruelty of 
circumstances. They strive onward, for God, with all of their hearts. 
And when they have found a gem, a pearl, and olive, some token of the 
Holy One, blessed be He, they allow their minds to touch and 
reconstruct. Day by day, they let go more and more."

"...an olive?"

"A metaphor. But one to keep in mind."

Rei and Pen-pen had joined them. Both were silent, eyeing the scene: an 
early summer morning beneath the sky, with a light and fragrant breeze 
from out of the west. Nagisa Kaworu stood with feet apart and lips 
pursed, ready to answer any question his pupil could draw forth. The 
lips were on the point of smiling. For his part, Ikari Shinji was 
slouching his shoulders and tapping the stonework below him with the tip 
of his shoe. It was not in defeat. It was all in the throes of 
confusion, the nonsense of incomplete interpretation. He had learned a 
great deal, and it filled his mind, bloated it.

After much thought, Shinji posed a final question. "I guess I want to 
know...how do you reach out?"

Kaworu gave a dismissive gesture. "There is no one way. Some look for 
God as Love. Some look for God as Law. Some look for God as Knowledge. 
Each one is a name for a territory with no map at all. Neither 'Ikari 
Shinji' nor 'Son of Rokubungi Gendou' nor 'Champion of the Young Men's 
Division of the All-Japan Kendo Association' could come close to 
describing you. "It is now time," he stated, "to unlearn what you have 
learned today."

"Yes, you mentioned that," Shinji said, "but I don't know what that 
means."

"Learning is how things should be," came the reply, "or should have 
been. But unlearning is how things have become, how they are, and shall 
continue to go. Past and future meet at the present. What I would like 
you to do, friend Shinji, is to frame your existence today in the 
context of your learning. Unlearning will follow. Now that you have one 
map, walk in faith. The dynamic landscape will rise to meet your feet."

"All right, I understand." A genuine smile fluttered across Shinji's 
face for the first time that morning. "Just live out my life, but keep 
what I've learned in the back of my mind."

"Exactly."

"But where can I begin?"

"It is your choice," replied Kaworu. "But one place you might begin, for 
instance, is down the path over there and ahead about six and a half 
meters. Turn left and go 140 meters or so. Then you should be able to 
begin."

Shinji looked. The place Kaworu had described lay somewhere in the 
thicket of trees that separated Kazarashi Dormitory from the parkland at 
the front of the school. "Are you sure about this?" he asked 
suspiciously.

"No," Kaworu answered, "because it hasn't happened yet. I'm only ever 
really sure about the present, and even then I often need to dive back 
into the uncertain past to get caught up. But I have faith that over to 
the east a beginning can be found."

Shinji was supremely stuck for a response, and so hesitantly set off on 
his journey.

Still in front of the greenhouse, Kaworu said to Rei in fluent Aramaic, 
"We are alike."

"Who are you?" she replied in the same fashion.

"I am only that which I am."

"I don't understand."

"Because I am corporeal, I am finite, hence limited, hence definite, 
hence definable, hence comprehensible. However, because I am 
biologically alive, I am mutable, and because I am psychologically 
sentient I am self-aware. Hence, all definitions of my nature must be 
transient. I am only that which I am, and nothing more."
--
Shinji had gone something over 300 paces, skirting along the edge of the 
juniper and hemlock bushes, when he came to a break in the hedge. There 
had been other breaks along the way, where pines and imported firs could 
be seen, but the placement of this break seemed more than coincidental. 
Shinji poked his head in, then ducked through the gap.

In the space between the hedgerows, the world was dark. Once upon a 
time, perhaps, this part of Feuervogel's campus had been a beautiful 
garden of trees, with a cement walkway that ran from end to end; a place 
where boys and girls could walk back and forth, like a labyrinth laid 
straight, and find peace in a shadowland separate from the rest of 
campus. Time and neglect had taken away this dignified purpose. Their 
work had not been kind. Pine needles, dead and desiccated, were strewn 
across the pathway. They lay so thick that halfway-mulched pinecones 
could be seen sticking out through the dry brown blanket. In places, 
where someone had kicked aside some of the rotting mass of needles, a 
small amount of the buried pathway could be seen. The slabs of concrete 
were criss-crossed with cracks; and moss grew up between some, roots 
others. The concrete was stained tan with the mulch's pigments. From 
north to south, east to west, it was a country defined by rot. A slow, 
gentle, nearly painless death ruled over all; but nonetheless, death 
incarnate.

And, perhaps, rebirth. Such is death in the summer.

Sunlight slunk in between the evergreen boughs, through motes of dust 
and mold spores, reluctantly lighting the face and figure of Ibuki Maya. 
Maya's brown hair had been cleaned that morning, but not combed, and it 
lay in a rumpled mass atop her head. It framed a visage that by all 
rights should have been smiling. She still possessed much of the 
cherubic beauty that had endeared her to adults growing up: slightly 
dimpled cheeks, large brown eyes, a petite mouth and a graceful chin. 
But that chin was trembling beneath quivering lips, and the brown eyes 
were red with tears that trickled down her cheeks freely.

Her body bent forward from crying. Maya had long arms and legs that were 
unintentionally shown off by the short sleeves and skirt of her uniform. 
They stood out even further against the gloom of the background by the 
light that scurried down from upon high, golden sun upon sun-bronze, a 
halo stitched upon the fallen. A sad face, a bent body, awkward limbs 
and a setting out of Goya; Ibuki Maya was the epitome of pathos.

Shinji was moved by the sight before him. "Maya-san!" he called out 
without hesitation.

She turned her head, leveling tender eyes at the boy. "Shinji-kun? What 
are you doing--"

Maya remembered what he stood for.

"--_here?_"

Shinji saw the change. Her tone became sharper. Letting go of the folds 
of her skirt, she staggered up from where she had been sitting against a 
tree trunk and absently wiped her eyes.

_What_ am _I doing here?_ Shinji thought. Then it was his turn to 
remember. Today was the day of the Foundation. Too quickly to frame his 
thoughts as words, he realized that he had two options. He could run 
away, or he could stay and build a foundation with Maya. And suddenly, 
he wasn't thinking about how saddened or angry the girl was; nor the 
fact that he was alone with a girl; nor even whether there were people 
around him or not. What popped into his mind, what he knew, was that he 
had the Cruel Angel on his side.

Only half a second had passed. Shinji blurted out, "I came to see you."

"Oh." Maya was taken aback, perhaps losing sight of her sorrow and 
anger. But it passed, and unable to completely accept the answer, she 
came back with a slurred, "Wul, why'ja do that?"

Once again, the boy was stuck for an answer. But Shinji was also buoyed 
by his success. He hadn't done a bad job with his answer at all! He 
hadn't backed away, and Maya wasn't as angry with him as she had been a 
moment before. It was working. Laying a foundation was working.

Shinji's reply took the form of a simple truth. "My friend told me to 
come here. I didn't know for certain I'd find you."

Maya didn't say anything in reply. It was frustrating for Shinji. He 
couldn't piece together her body language. And the boy realized that the 
more he knew about Maya, both her past and her thoughts in the moment, 
the easier the foundation--any foundation--would be.

He pressed on, sticking to what he knew and what he could see. "Maya-
san, um...you've been crying. And you're all dirty from sitting down. 
And you're sitting here all alone. Something's wrong, isn't it? What's 
the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong," Maya said sullenly, brushing at the dirt on her legs.

Shinji tried again. "But this isn't like you, Maya," he pleaded. "Isn't 
there anything the matter?"

"No," Maya said, and there was more than a trace of ire in her words.

He felt the burn. Shinji's foundation, of a moment before, was falling 
to pieces like the concrete walkway underfoot. For whatever reason--his 
audience or his approach or his timing or pure chance--the world was not 
becoming a better place for his efforts. He had made up his mind to go 
when he thought of something Kaworu had said earlier. The night before, 
when they all were on the point of sleep, Kaworu had said, "I am not 
static." Shinji reached the conclusion that he, like Kaworu, was not 
static
--
he could learn and change as well. So could Rei. So could Maya. So could 
anybody.

"Maya-san," Shinji said, "I hope I'll see you later...soon. We've had 
fun in the past, and Rei and I both are a little hungry for fun these 
days. Let me know if you want to stop by and have dinner again."

Reluctantly, but not wanting to force himself to stay, Shinji turned 
back the way he had come. He took one step, then another, on the bed of 
dark needles.

Then her voice came. "Shinji." The boy stepped backwards, into the 
pathway again. Maya was painfully close to tears. She was clutching her 
skirt once more. Trembling with the anxiety of letting her heart free in 
the world, she gasped, "I'm...alone. Sempai's dead. Why...?"

Shinji swallowed with discomfort, but reached out for the Foundation. "I 
don't know why she disappeared," he answered truthfully. "I don't know 
why she turned into a monster and attacked me. I wish I knew. I wish I 
could tell you something. I wish she were still alive."

Maya made some noise between a cough, a sob and a laugh. "She tried to 
kill you, Shinji. And...she tried to humiliate Shekhinah. You can't 
possibly want her..."

The girl couldn't go on. She buried her face in her hands and tried not 
to break down completely. The pain was overwhelming.

Shinji, forgotten, had let the first Duel slip his mind. _But if I did_, 
Shinji reasoned, _I guess I'm not angry, am I?_

"Maya," he said, stepping within a handspan of her, close enough that 
she could feel his body warming her arms, "she did some bad things, yes. 
But she didn't deserve to die for them. That must sound weird, coming 
from me. I...am the one...who killed her." The girl looked up from her 
tear-drenched hands. "But it's true. You didn't want to hurt your 
sempai. Why should I?"

"But you did..."

Shinji felt the burning sword again. It was a different attack now. It 
was cutting into his soul, excising a cancer of his heart. Could he, was 
there in the strength inside of him to understand himself? The choice, 
still tantalizing, was there still: to run or to build.

Shinji's gaze fell to the array of pine needles at his feet. Repetitive, 
yet concealing mysteries below. "Maya-san, the truth is...before God, I, 
I don't want to hurt people. Honestly. But...it's that...when I..."

He steeled himself and went on. "When I get all riled up, in the heat of 
combat, there's another part of me, a demon inside of me, that takes 
over. It is a part of me. It's all my anger, and frustration, and...all 
balled up in my heart. I, I can't control it once it gets loose. Believe 
me, Maya. I've told people before, but it's only recently, since I've 
come here, and met people like you and Rei and Touji, that...I..."

Something flashed behind his eyes.

"That I've started to control how it comes out. Because I have friends, 
Maya, you're...you've...given me a reason not to go berserk when it all 
goes wrong. You've given me something better than rage. You've been a 
friend to me."

"Shinji," she gasped, trembling. They were holding hands before either 
realized how much they wanted to. "You do understand. I believe you. I 
don't--quite--know--why you do what you do...but...there's a reason, 
isn't there? I do understand that now."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone, Maya-san. And I did. I could have just 
walked away from the Duel. Instead, I beat Ritsuko-san up. And then...I 
killed her. I killed her in self-defense, and she was not in control of 
her actions, and saying it does not bring her back to life. Forgive me 
for what I did."

"I forgive you. For her." They were silent in the sunlight and the quiet 
between the hedgerows for a long while before Maya let her hands go. "I 
knew we were doing the wrong thing, Shinji. I knew it, but I let sempai 
convince me. Shinji, she wasn't a bad person, and I'm so happy you've 
forgiven her...and...me. It's just...I'll explain some other time."

She wiped her eyes on her arm again, then accepted the gift of a tissue. 
Maya stood taller than Shinji, and she filled out her uniform more than 
he did. She was also one year older. But somehow the idea got into Ibuki 
Maya's head that she was less mature.

Her companion, her friend, didn't seem to worry. Ikari Shinji's eyes 
were fastened on Maya. In his mind, in its own devices, he pictured a 
foundation, like the Dueling Arena; and at its center, where Rei's 
throne would have been, stood his heart. Brick red, upright and much 
larger than life--larger than Shinji himself--it throbbed to a strong 
tattoo full of life and vitality.

"Let's do something," Shinji suggested. "We'll talk more another time. I 
want to have some fun."

"Yes," Maya said, and then more emphatically, "you're right! We should! 
Let's forget about classes today, Shinji. What do you want to do?"

"Anything," he said. "We can go for a walk, or have a picnic. Yeah, 
let's do that. Rei can come, and you can meet my new friend."