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?" -- A day passed in the life of Ikari Shinji. It began before dawn. Shinji had forbidden Rei from watching his morning sword practice. He went up to the roof, as far away from the neighboring dorm as he could manage, wearing only a t-shirt and a loose pair of shorts. He carried a foil and a bokken in a duffel bag. First Shinji stretched out, beginning with his ankles and working up to his neck. His breathing became deeper as his body adjusted to unusual geometries, pulling at its own limits. Endorphins and adrenaline slipped into his blood. The boy's eyes sharpened as he concentrated on his physique. He focused on the material world. Next came kendo practice with the bokken. Fifty overhand swings, fifty side chops, fifty straight thrusts. Each one began with a second's concentration and emptiness. Then through the air, to stop. Shinji would analyze each stroke, clear his mind, and repeat. Advancing and retreating, practice with his guard up, naturally led to European fencing. The foil was smaller and flimsier than a katana, and would be all but useless in combat. Still, the foil's advantage was that it could strike precisely, and required fine motor control to master. It was well-suited to Shinji's small physique. After moving across the rooftop en garde, the young man practiced lunging, feinting and guarding with imaginary opponents. His practice took over an hour, but he finished feeling invigorated. Shinji wished longingly that he had not excluded Rei, and stared at her sleeping figure for some time before taking a cold shower. He collected himself as he relaxed in the furo. _I can't have Rei be awake when I'm all worked up,_ he thought. He watched the overhead light reflecting off the water, becoming a kaleidoscope of the color white against the dark walls. The reflected light, ever- shimmering, tantalized him. _I mean, I don't feel good having her around me all the time as it is. And she still acts like we're married! No, it's not right for me to set her up to be a victim of circumstances. I have to keep my self-control. _I wonder if I should tell her about my past. No, I don't think so. It hurts too much, and Rei isn't a really sympathetic audience. I couldn't tell anyone here about it, not even Touji. Touji would think I was trying to out-do him, or something. And he certainly doesn't need my troubles on top of his own._ Shinji returned to their room as Rei was waking. She took her bath while Shinji prepared breakfast. There were onigiri from the night before in the refrigerator, so rather than making fresh rice he put the leftovers out on a plate. He made a pot of miso soup and a kettle of green tea, and put a fish out for Pen-pen. Rei dressed and they ate together in silence. They walked side by side to the greenhouse. Shinji liked the sensation of being indoors and outdoors all at once. Light came in through the glass, but the temperature inside stayed constant. The roses enjoyed the best of both environments, and they flourished. The boy could pretend he was in a forest as easily as in the greenhouse. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked politely. Rei replied, "I think not. I am capable of performing all necessary duties in my allotted time. Anything else should be done by professionals, not you or I." Shinji nodded. He put on his SDAT headphones and listened to Handel's Water Music while Rei gardened. The Baroque music was well-suited to the ornate, pedigreed flowers. Handel, one of the musical genii of his age, had been subject to structure and convention even as he had helped create the Western musical heritage. The roses revealed their heritage in their flowers; but each was subject to its genotype and the mathematical abstractions of its molecular engineering. Listening to the great music and studying the beauty of the flowers, a wave of inferiority swept over Shinji. He didn't look beautiful in the least: he was a scrawny 15-year-old with a soprano voice and no facial hair. He hadn't built bridges, designed engines or composed symphonies. He could play the cello, and that was it. Even his feeble compositions for that instrument were little more than his best improvisations. Rei had the rose garden. Although she claimed that she was nothing more than his bride, her mornings told the truth: that Ayanami Rei was greater than the sum of her parts. She looked genuinely happy, working her fingers in the moist soil and sprinkling fertilizer out of a trowel. Shinji envied her. He envied her ability to create life. All he could do was write a cacophony for strings... ...and destroy. The word perforated his meditations. At almost the same instant, his tape ended; and Rei stood up from her gardening. Shinji followed her out of the greenhouse and off to class. The students kept their distance from him, even the one who had introduced himself as Kensuke a few days before. Reluctantly, the seats around himself and Rei were filled by the last few stragglers moments before the teacher came in. Their homeroom teacher was an amiable elderly man by the name of Fuyutsuki. "It has been argued," he explained, "that history repeats itself in cycles. But is this what we see? Be careful as we study European history from the Fall of Rome to the Renaissance. It could be that, in fact, there have been cycles in mankind's thinking in this theater of geopolitics. Or, it could be that we have prejudiced ourselves into looking for what isn't really there. "As historians, we must describe precisely the vagueness of humans. You can think about how your friend, say, leaves the television on when she goes out of the room, and you'll think 'Oh, that's just like her.' But what is a human personality? I would argue that we filter a person's second-to- second behavior in our minds as we get to know them better. A psychologist, or a historian, will be objective enough to take the whole of a person's history into making analyses of their character. And even then, we are still guilty of distilling the truth into an easy-to-swallow picture. It's quite a paradox." After History came Physical Science. They watched as their teacher made lengthy remarks about a demonstration he had set up for the class, an arrangement of switches, batteries and lamps. The talk was over Shinji's head. He could finally feel the repercussions from his delayed entry to the class. His spirit, buoyed from Professor Fuyutsuki's entertaining talk, began to flounder. English was their last real class of the morning. English was a subject Shinji felt comfortable with, even if his grades hadn't been good. When called upon to read from the book, Shinji spoke carefully and clearly, reading through the passage without difficulty. He earned a pleasant "thank you" from the teacher for his effort. Boys and girls separated for PE. The weather was good, a blue sky with a few cirrus clouds; class was held outdoors. The boys ran sprints of 100, 200 and 400 meters, and then relay races. Shinji was placed on a relay team with Kensuke and another boy who didn't seem to fit in either. The missing member of their team would be figured in by averaging the three times. "It's all right," the boy said. "It actually works for us. After three laps, we've set the time to beat, and everyone else has to do better. What's your name?" "Ikari Shinji." "Aoba Shigeru, nice to meet ya." They shook hands. Shigeru pulled a hair tie out of his front pocket and put his hair back in a bun. "You don't seem like a bad guy at all. What's the story with you and Touji?" Shinji related the circumstances of their first meeting. "I didn't want to...you know, attack him. But it's too late now. I feel miserable for it. I'm going to see him this afternoon after class." "So, why'd you do it?" Shinji shifted uncomfortably. "Every time...every time I'm in a really tense situation, I lose my self-control. It's like there's a whole other part of my personality in charge, and I'm just watching what's going on. I try to fight it as hard as I can, but it never seems to make any difference. I always lose it." Shigeru nodded. "You're keeping something from me, aren't you?" "What?" Shinji gasped. "I...uh..." He smirked. "It's as plain as the nose on your face. I'm pretty good at reading other people's emotions. I've written a song for just about everyone. Maybe I'll write one for you." "You're a musician too?" Shinji said. "I play the cello, what do you play?" "Guitar. Acoustic...I don't have an electric." Shigeru smirked again. "Touji and I used to play a little, but I don't think we will now. You and I can jam, then." After a moment's hesitation, Shinji asked, "What instrument did he play?" "Drums. He said it helped him work tension out." Shigeru stood up and started walking around, impatiently swinging his arms side to side. "It's understandable, isn't it, why he doesn't want to play anymore?" -- His conversation with Shigeru had made him miserable, and Shinji was glad when class was dismissed for lunch. He found Rei as she was walking to the cafeteria. They sat down next to one another in a sunny place nearby. Shinji gave Rei the bento he had made for her, and they ate together. Presently, they slowed their lunch, and finally stopped. They were listening to a trio of voices that were coming from the cafeteria kitchen. Although the three spoke clearly enough, their voices--as well as their subject--sounded inhuman. "Do you know? Do you know? Do you know what acceptance is?" "No, I've never heard of such a thing." "Isn't it the courage to face what's going on around you without self- delusion?" "I meant from a clinical perspective." "I still don't know what you're talking about." "Oh, a clinical perspective. In that case, I give." "I hear that acceptance is the last stage of learning to die." "That's very interesting. I didn't know you had to learn to die." "Death is for other people. I don't plan on dying." "It doesn't have to be literally dying. It's also the last stage in dealing with divorce, say. Or any major trauma." "What about happy things?" "Who on Earth analyzes being happy? People analyze why they're not happy." "They don't analyze how they're unhappy, or what's really making them unhappy." "That's why people are stupid." "Oh, no, no, people are stupid for an incredible variety of reasons." "Pride, anger, sloth, gluttony, the whole shebang." "I hear that boy's done a lot of crying over the past day." "Says he's lonesome." "Nobody comes to visit." "Well, of course nobody visits him. They don't want to be reminded how stupid people can be." "Now THERE is a young boy who's got some acceptance to live through." -- Still trying to understand the conversation he had been privy to, Shinji walked with Rei back to class. Their classmates filtered in, not hurrying to be in Shinji's presence but not as afraid as they had been. Their Civics class was dealing with the Japanese Diet, and the kind of upheavals that went on in the early 1950's as Japan began its course of postwar modernization. It was a period of history Shinji was ignorant of, and he groaned at the thought of how much reading he would need to catch up on. Mathematics was next. Shinji was surprised at how much he was able to understand, even in consideration of the substantial gap in his knowledge. The subject was multiple polynomial equations, and the boy was familiar with them from a previous talk between his father and a scientist whose name he didn't remember. The idea of finding solutions by reducing the number of independent variables seemed to be common sense, and he anticipated a straightforward evening with his homework. The final class of the day was Visual Arts. Their medium was watercolor. Shinji hadn't bought a watercolor set yet, so was excused from working while the rest of the class painted a still life. Their teacher had a freshly- washed bunch of grapes laid out on a marble slab, white with strange blue discoloration in the surface. Shinji watched the people around him. Rei was paying close attention to the colors, and would test her greens and blues on a scrap sheet of watercolor paper before deciding which grape to paint next. She held the brush in her left hand. Kensuke sketched his still- life in excruciating detail and made notes to himself on the paper before he added color. Shigeru kept looking at other people's technique and asking them questions, until the teacher told him to work on his own painting. His grapes were perfectly circular. Next to Shigeru, Shinji recognized Hikari and Asuka, two of the girls he had met his abortive first day on campus. Hikari, he had learned, was the class president. What her relationship was to the mysterious Student Council Shinji didn't know, but he had seen no ring on her finger. Hikari spent more time looking at the scene than painting, taking care to make every brush stroke count. She was also gossiping with Asuka, though the latter girl was doing most of the talking. Asuka was hurrying through her painting, clearly eager to be done with classes for the day. Still, her work was impressive. She was going without any kind of pencil sketch to guide her. Shinji watched as Asuka swirled blue onto her brush, then dragged it across her paper, all the while following the shape of the discoloration with her eyes. _She's got great hand-eye coordination,_ Shinji thought. After they were dismissed, Shinji carefully approached Hikari, trying not to appear threatening. "Uh...inchou?" he said meekly. "Do...do I have any printouts? Homework? Do you have anything for me?" "Oh, Ikari," she replied in an eerie echo of Akagi. "Yes, but I don't have them with me. Can you wait until tomorrow?" "Yeah, I can. That's better for me, actually. I'm going to see Touji-kun right now." Hikari's tone warmed instantly. "Oh, really? Is he awake? How's he doing?" Shinji was left with the impression that her former coolness had been an act. "He's all right," he replied, daring to smile. "We talked for quite a while yesterday. But I guess he's lonesome. That isn't a surprise, really, is it?" "No, I guess not. Asuka! I'll be right there!" Shinji turned to see the redheaded girl standing impatiently in the doorway. She made eye contact with Shinji and stepped outside without a word. Hikari's attention returned to the boy. "Well, I'm glad that he's better. Maybe the class could make a get-well card for him." Shinji smiled. "That's a great idea! I...ah. I WON'T tell him, will I?" Hikari managed to laugh a little at his joke, much to the boy's delight. They walked to the door. Outside, Rei was waiting for Shinji while Asuka paced back and forth a little ways away. Shinji waved goodbye to the two girls, and he and Rei walked off down towards the infirmary. As they were about to turn off onto another walkway, Shinji happened to look back over his shoulder. Hikari and Asuka were being intercepted by another girl. Shinji recognized her as Maya, the dormitory president. Shinji quickly turned back and followed Rei down their path. A familiar feeling of uncertainty came over him. Something he didn't understand was going on, and while he was left out of the picture, he somehow felt that it involved him. It didn't matter that he couldn't do anything about the situation, it was still frustrating. Touji was awake in the infirmary, staring thoughtfully out the window to the outside world. He played five games of chess with Shinji while Rei read a book. Shinji won three. "You're pretty good," Touji said when Shinji had won his third victory. "Ah, not really," Shinji stated modestly. "I mean, I don't really know how to construct an offense or a defense or anything." "Oh, I dunno. You looked like you had a couple of good ideas there. Like in the last game, keeping all your pawns over there on the left side until you'd bagged my castles, and then just marching down the board." Shinji smiled bashfully--it had been a technique he'd read about in the paper once, and hadn't really experimented with. He packed up the pieces as Touji continued his thought. "You know who you should practice with? Misato, the Social VP. She's good, she's real good. When she's sober, she can beat almost anyone on the campus." "Misato," Shinji mused, "I think I met her briefly. She's tall, right? Purple hair? And she's on the Student Council too?" "Yeah. Kind of weird, isn't it? We have, like, so many people on the Council, but no honest-to-gosh faculty members. I tell you, Ikari, Feuervogel's a weird place." Shinji and Rei left the infirmary a short while later. As the departed, they ran into Hikari, the class president. She had been pacing around outside the front door as they came out. Hikari opened her mouth, as if to speak to Shinji, but thought better of it and swept inside. Nonplussed, Shinji and Rei walked back home across campus. Pen-pen met them at the door of Akumafune Dormitory. His squawking, jumping up and down and pointing Shinji took to mean that the furo needed to be emptied. He drained the tub, scrubbed out the bath ring, then refilled it with nice hot water. Pen-pen hopped in as soon as it was ready without any kind of thanks. Back in their room, Rei had made an immense salad for dinner. Spinach, lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, broccoli, carrots and peas. She had three kinds of dressing ready as well. Both youngsters settled for oil and vinegar. They ate dinner as quietly as they had eaten lunch. Shinji washed their few dishes, then the two of them settled in to do their homework. It was about nine in the evening when they were done. Rei took out her book and resumed her reading. Shinji felt claustrophobic: the utter silence around him, that almost permeated his body, was like an alien kind of pressure. He walked up to the roof of the dormitory and paced around for a few minutes before he felt more at ease. A row of trees surrounded the walls of Feuervogel, blocking his view of the city. Certainly in Feuervogel itself, there were plenty of lights. Shinji picked out a few in the buildings on campus--meetings of student and faculty groups, he presumed. He could also see where the boys' dormitories were on the other side of campus, and the faculty dormitories in between. Immediately in front of him was Kazarashi, the large girls' dormitory. Lights were on on every floor. The sight of girls unaware of his presence didn't stimulate the boy, to his surprise. Instead, he found it calming. There were people like him all around--people with lives they lead as best they could. People who could get swallowed up in the world's cares. He was no different than any other soul. On the second floor of Kazarashi, Shinji could see a group of women in an animated discussion or argument. He recognized three of them as Hikari, Asuka and Maya. The fourth's face was hidden by bandages and plaster. With a shudder, Shinji realized it was Akagi Ritsuko. His curiosity got the better of him. Shinji leaned forward on the edge of the roof to observe. Try as he might, he couldn't parse what the argument itself was about. Nor were the sides clear. Hikari was obviously on one, and Ritsuko was on another, although she wasn't moving around a lot. Maya seemed to take Ritsuko's point more often than Hikari's. Asuka looked like she had her own agenda, frequently pointing at people in rapid succession and gesturing as if for others who were not present. After twenty minutes or so, the conversation was concluded by order of Ritsuko. Nobody seemed happy with the decision. Then Hikari disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a deck of cards. Maya and Ritsuko played as a team, and the cards were dealt. Shinji quickly lost interest and returned to his room. Rei was crawling into bed with Pen-pen when Shinji came into the room. "Good evening," she said tiredly. "Good evening," he replied. Not noticing that it was the first time she had greeted him of her own accord. Not noticing the way her eyes moved beneath her half-closed lids, or the way she clutched the covers on the bed as if she was sinking into the mattress. Shinji changed into nightclothes and crawled into bed. He lay awake, thinking of the events of the day, as Rei's breathing underneath him grew softer. The more he thought, the worse he felt about it all. Finally, he resolved not to think about it anymore, and rolled onto his side. Sleep came quickly after that. A day had passed in the life of Ikari Shinji.