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 trudged next door. As only the truly lazy can, those 
people who dedicate serious time and energy to avoiding work and 
undesired responsibilities, she made a superhuman effort of walking 
down one sidewalk, east less than fifty meters, and up another sidewalk. 
Every bent-knee stagger, every listless shuffle in the shoulders, told a 
story dead of self-motivation.

The fact was that Misato really didn't want to be up doing things on a day 
off. She would much rather have spent it in bed, alone or with company. 
Still, rules were rules. One of the downsides to her election had been that 
her position actually held responsibilities. Among these were that she care 
for everyone's well-being at any school-sponsored function. However 
enigmatic Ikari and Ayanami were, the fact was that they were students 
and deserved equal treatment.

So she was going next door at the ungodly-early hour of nine in the 
morning to set everything right with the world. She was dressed in slacks 
and a striped cotton blouse, and had brushed her purple hair away from 
her face. As she waited for the door to be answered, she turned to enjoy 
the morning in spite of herself. Spring winds ruffled the upper branches of 
the trees in front of Akumafune, and the leaves rustled in a joyous, 
tranquil sound.

The door was soon opened by the young Ikari Shinji. He stood about a 
head shorter than herself. Where her eyes held a warm tint of familiarity, 
his looked more aloof; not in the sense of uncaring, in the sense of 
uncared for. She smiled.

"Good morning, Shinji? Hi, Katsuragi Misato. I don't think we've really 
been formally introduced, have we?"

"Ah, nuh-uh. We haven't." He bowed. "Ikari Shinji...my pleasure. Do you 
want to come inside?"

Misato peeked over Shinji's shoulder, looking for the unknown in the 
unlit living room to his rear. "Is it safe?" she inquired.

"Huh? Yeah, perfectly. Come on in."

"Thanks." She followed him inside, glancing around her. Like every other 
person on campus, she had known several of the people killed on the first 
night of Akumafune's occupancy. It had been a very...awful time for her. 
She had seriously considered leaving the school, and it had taken several 
people to convince her to stay. Strange friendships had formed in those 
days, out of groups of strangers all trying to make sense out of the 
calamity they had been spared.

Shinji turned on the light as they entered the cafeteria. It was built to seat 
200. The tables were clean and most were untouched. At the north end of 
the cafeteria was an institutional kitchen. Shinji explained as he put a kettle 
on, "We've got a refrigerator in our room, but not a hot plate. I have to 
come out here to make tea."

"How are you getting along with Rei?" Misato asked.

"Good," Shinji answered after a moment's consideration. He added, "She's 
the first real roommate I've had. We've had a few conversations, and I 
like being around her. She's neat and clean. She's also picky about her 
food, which is good, 'cause I like to eat healthy."

Misato nodded. She found that whenever she couldn't see Shinji, she fell 
prey to the sensation that something was creeping up behind her. 
Ironically, being alone with a young man prone to violent outbursts 
wasn't the least bit bothering.

Blue flame burst out up towards the bottom of the kettle. Shinji smiled at 
the warmth of the flame. "What's Rei's story? Is she an idiot-savant or 
something? Do you know anything about her history?"

"No," Misato said dryly. If Shinji hadn't glanced over at her as she relaxed, 
he wouldn't have realized that she was lying. "Come on," he persisted, 
"you have to know something. You're the Social Vice President."

Caught, Misato tried another tactic. "I thought you meant outside of 
school. Well, let's see. When I came here, I was fifteen. At that time, she 
was in the middle school. Rei had what we all thought was kind of an 
attention-deficit disorder. She'd sit in on the most random classes and not 
participate, but take the tests. It was only last year that she started 
behaving more normal, and--thank you--attending classes for any one 
grade."

Misato sipped the tea. It was Earl Gray, made strong. Shinji poured a cup 
for himself and they sat down opposite one another at a nearby table.

"Shinji," Misato began, "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened at 
the dance. I honestly didn't know that Ritsuko was so worked up, and I 
still don't have any idea what was going through her head when she 
made that dress for Rei. I'm...very sorry. I don't know what else to say."

Shinji shrugged. "I guess everything ended all right. We came, we got 
humiliated, we danced, we left early. How's Akagi-san doing today?"

"I don't know. After the dance she ran home wearing one of the 
tablecloths like a toga. She's locked the door to her room and isn't coming 
out. Not even Maya can get in there."

"So what are you going to do?"

"What can I do? Either leave her there until she comes out or kick down 
the door. If we all leave her there, then there's a good chance she'll come 
to terms with whatever's got her knickers in a knot. I don't think she's 
liable to hurt herself. She'd plan how she would do it, and that would 
entail leaving her room. On the other hand, if we burst in there, she'll 
panic, feed us a line, and then do whatever she damn well pleases when 
we've got our backs turned. No, no, Shinji. The best option's to let things 
take their course."

Shinji was awestruck. "I remember," he said, "that Touji said you were 
good at chess, but...that's light years beyond chess! That's human 
psychology and stuff. I'm impressed, Misato-sempai. How'd you 
managed to come up with a strategy like that so fast?"

"Oh, it's not much," she replied, pouring herself another healthy cupful of 
tea, "it's common sense, really."

"Yeah! That's what I mean. You make it seem like such common sense, 
but I wouldn't have known the first thing what to do."

"Ah. That's it, right?" Misato jabbed a finger onto Shinji's sternum. "You 
got to know how you're going to attack a problem. You can't be afraid of 
it as soon as it rears its big ugly head, right? You need to figure out some 
way to attack it. I guess that's something I'm just good at."

The boy nodded, then rose, carrying his cup with him. "How about we 
play some chess? Rei's awake, so we can move out of the cafeteria."

They adjourned to Rei's and Shinji's quarters. Rei down her reading to 
bow as they entered. Shinji moved the table into the middle of the room 
and set up the pieces. They played four games while Misato talked all 
about the gossip around Feuervogel.

"Asuka's half-German and half-Japanese, but she grew up in America. 
She's got a terrible potty mouth if you piss her off, but she gets along well 
with all of the other girls in her grade. She's got a terrible crush on Kaji-
kun, but he's not interested in her at all. Seems like he's made a pass at 
every other girl on campus. But like I was saying, Hikari is Asuka's best 
friend. She was even her campaign manager for the campaign, but said 
she didn't have time to do her best in an office herself, which is a total lie. I 
mean, Asuka graduated from college in Germany before she started here. 
I don't even know why she came, but anyway, she's got all the time in the 
world on her hands because she just eats up her homework and then goes 
off and does nothing. Weird girl. Check."

Misato beat Shinji in all four matches, only once taking more than 25 
moves to win. "I think this calls for a victory toast, y'know?"she declared 
as Shinji picked up the chess pieces and returned them to their box. "Do 
you have any sake?"

"I don't drink, Misato."

"C'mon, lighten up, Shinji. One drink's not going to kill you, is it?"

She was uncomfortably close to him, leaning across the table with a 
conspiratorial smirk on her face. If the top button of her blouse had been 
unbuttoned, Shinji would have been afforded a magnificent view down 
the mountain pass. But Misato's deliberate familiarity produced the 
opposite effect from what was intended. Glowering, Shinji continued to 
do his duty and said, "Actually, it probably would. Half the people in my 
extended family are alcoholics."

Ignoring his serious tone of voice, Misato persisted. "What about the other 
half?"

"Abused spouses and neglected children."

"Well, you don't have to be so blunt about it." Misato changed the subject 
nevertheless. "What's going on for you today, Shinji? Do you have 
anything fun to do?"

"Yeah, actually." Shinji slid the chess set underneath the bunk bed and 
returned to his place at the table. "Rei and I were going to see how Touji-
kun is doing. You're more than welcome to come along."

"Sure! Sounds like fun." Misato glanced at the clock. It was going on 
eleven, and she had had nothing to eat since breakfast. "How about some 
lunch before we go over?"

"All right."

"..."

"..."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Shinji blushed. "I'm sorry, what am I thinking? I'm the host. I can get 
something put together for us. Just be patient a few minutes."
--
They arrived at the infirmary to find that Touji's condition had 
deteriorated. He was staring glumly at where his elbow should be. He 
didn't even look up as his guests entered.

"Shinji, I want my arm back," he said. The voice was low. It was not a 
growl, nor was it a gasp, nor was it a prayer. Anger voiced without giving 
up blind hope.

"Touji, it's too late," Shinji replied in a solemn whine. "I can't do anything 
now, nobody can. We just have to live with it."

"You mean, you have to live with it. I have to live without it, huh?"

"That's not true!" Misato burst in. "Hikari-chan told me yesterday that you 
were getting prosthetics next week, and starting physical therapy the day 
after."

"Oh, hey, the Social VP." Touji finally looked up and gave a curt half-bow 
from his bed. "Excuse me if I don't get up to shake your hand, m'kay?"

Misato stifled a very inappropriate giggle. Shinji spoke instead. "Touji, 
what's the matter? What's come over you today?"

"What's the matter? You want to know what's the matter? I'll tell you, 
'cause I spent the whole night workin' it out." Touji's voice was slowly 
rising. Frustration and self-pity were gradually surmounting his low 
rancor. "I'm tired of it all. I'm damn sick and tired of not having half my 
body. Dammit, what's the point? I'm never gonna be able to run again, or 
play sports, or nothin'. And you know what? I realized last night, I don't 
WANT to learn everythin' all over again. I don't want to go on, for fuck's 
sake. I just want it all over. I just..."

He let the thought sputter out, exhausting the utility of the idea. It was 
just in time, because Misato was approaching his bedside, lit up with her 
own energy.

"Hey, hey! You stop that right now, Suzuhara Touji! I don't want ANY of 
that from you!" She yanked him up off his pillows and stared squarely 
into his eyes. "It is by no means the end of the world for you, and you 
know that. I'm not going to let you give in now. What would your little 
sister think of you now? Giving up just as things are getting better."

Misato stopped as Touji let out a snide laugh that sounded disturbingly 
like a choked sob. "Misato," he said in his self-pitying tone, "cut off half 
your damn body, and then you tell me how fondly you think about your 
dad, all right?"

For an instant, Shinji believed that the infirmary would catch fire, so 
intense were the emotions flowing through it. Misato broke first. "You're 
wrong, Touji! You're so wrong. Just you watch. Just...you...watch!" She 
lurched up off the bed and made for the door. "I'm going to find five--no, 
ten!--fun things for paraplegics to do, and we're gonna do 'em all, and 
then you'll see how good life can be! I'll show you!"

Misato charged out the door, slouched forwards, muttering to herself. 
Shinji followed. He couldn't see Katsuragi's facial expression; part of him 
wanted to, part of him didn't, and he couldn't be certain whether it was an 
angel or a devil driving him to follow in her wake.

They were almost out of the infirmary building when Misato practically 
collided with Horaki Hikari. Ignorant of Shinji's presence, Misato pulled 
Hikari over to one side of the room and began talking with her at full 
volume. "You! You know, don't you? What the hell has gotten into 
Suzuhara all of a sudden?"

"Eh?" Hikari glanced at Shinji, fully aware of his status as class pariah.

"Now. I want to know, and I want to know now. What's the story with 
Touji?"

"What do you mean, what's the story with Touji-kun?"

"You've been telling me all along about how he's in such high spirits," 
Misato explained vehemently. "Now, when I finally go up to visit him, 
he's fricking suicidal. And I really don't think you're smart enough to lie 
to me that good, Hikari, and I can't imagine why you would, either. So 
once more, what's the story?"

"He's what?"

"He's up there talking about how miserable he feels. That's what he's 
doing." Misato's energy was almost spent. Against his better judgement, 
Shinji had circled around the two girls to be able to see both their faces. 
Misato's eyes were very watery, but she wasn't actually crying. Hikari 
was simply scared, trapped between her duty to hear out Misato, the 
desire that news of Suzuhara filled, and the unknown that was Ikari Shinji. 
"OK, let's think about it another way. I thought you told me he was 
looking forward to getting his prostheses on."

"Well, yeah. We talked about it yesterday before I went over to the 
dance."

"You talked to him. What else did you talk about?"

Hikari shrugged. "Nothing...much."

It was an obvious lie. Misato shifted gears again. "Did you mention his 
sister?"

"Uh...yes, I did. Briefly."

Misato nodded. "OK, we're getting somewhere. What did you say?"

"I just said...I thought that his sister would be proud about his recovery. 
That's it." Hikari shifted on her feet nervously. "I didn't think that that was 
so bad."

Stepping away from Hikari, Misato looked thoughtful. Her previous 
excitement was gone. A challenge had taken the place of whatever 
internal struggle had bothered her before. "I got it. That must have set 
him off somehow. He's all pissing and moaning about how he'll never get 
better. Maybe your choice of words was just bad. Shinji?"

Startled out of his rapt attention, Shinji said, "Yuh...yes?"

"Piss off, will you? I need to talk to Hikari-chan in private."

Meekly, Shinji turned around and walked back to the infirmary. He 
entered an odd sight. Touji was completely calmed. Gone was his turmoil. 
In its place, Touji was staring blankly at his left hand, admiring it. He 
listened. Rei was talking. It was soft, and it was very awkward, very 
deliberate. It was undeniably her own idiom.

"I said, 'What is it?' He said, 'I don't know.' He said, 'I'm tired, but there is 
no school tomorrow.' I said, 'Yes.' He said, 'I think I'll sleep in then.' He 
went to bed. I bathed, and then I went to bed."

Rei drew up to a halt at the end of her recapitulation of yestere'en's 
activities. Touji roused himself and looked at Shinji, almost with 
admiration. "I didn't know Rei could tell a story," he said. "What've you 
done to her, Ikari?"

Shinji swallowed, then said nervously, "Nothing! It's not like that at all! 
We're just friends, we just live together. I haven't, you know..."

Touji was shaking his head. "Shinji, Rei never used to speak. How'd you 
get her to talk?"

The question clear, Shinji couldn't address it. "Um, nothing. I don't know, 
really. I just...you know. Talk with her. Right, Rei?"

"That is correct."

The invalid boy heaved a sigh. "Shinji...I'm sorry if I made you worry. It's 
just that I've been feeling depressed today. I should be thankful that I'm 
still alive, and that you and Rei and Hikari-chan and Misato have visited 
me. I s'pose it's only human nature to want something more. Just let it 
slide, will ya?"

At a loss, Shinji could only nod. In fear and uncertainty, he made to 
withdraw. "Um, I saw Hikari outside talking to Misato-sempai. I think 
Hikari's here to talk to you, so I'll...you know. Let it slide. Take care, all 
right, Touji?"

"I will. G'bye, Rei. Thanks for visiting."

"Farewell."

Shinji and Rei left the room. In the hallway outside, Shinji spoke to Rei. 
"Thanks for talking with Touji, Rei. I think he enjoyed it."

Rei seemed confused by the remark. "But it was nothing," she replied.

"It's OK. Touji just wants company. I think he likes hearing you talk, 
because it makes him feel special. Like you trust him."

She was silent for a few paces, then asked, "Do you enjoy it when I talk to 
you?"

Shinji barely had time to nod his head yes. They had left the building and 
come upon Misato and Hikari, still talking quietly. As they passed, Misato 
broke off the conversation to say, "Shinji? I'll see you later. I'm having a 
party over at my place next week, won't you come?"

She hadn't expected him to stop in his tracks with surprise. But a moment 
later, he said, "Certainly. Do you want Rei to come, too?"

"Of course. It'll be starting around eight. Be there, will you?"

Shinji nodded, and the pair left.
--
A computer is a versatile machine, because it can add any two real 
numbers in any fashion. Addition is the fundamental operation of all 
higher mathematics. As for mathematics itself, it is simply an abstraction 
of the real world. Thus, it is possible to apply a computer model to any 
real world system, assuming that a working mathematical model can be 
constructed.

Then there are the machines that are greater than their own sums.

"Do you know? Do you know?"

"Do I know what Horaki's been telling Suzuhara?"

"Do I know where the children go to practice their music?"

"...actually, do you know a good cure for a hangover? I was out kind of 
late last night."

"Certainly! Swallow some Vitamin E and soak your head in warm (not 
hot) tomato juice for a half an hour."

"Why do I even spend my time with you two?"
--
The end of May and the beginning of June were like a fledgling bird first 
trying out its wings, all full of promise and joy, all ready to be loved by 
the world. Shinji's cello had arrived with the remainder of his possessions 
eleven days after he had entered Feuervogel Academy. His father had 
included an inventory of all the boxes that had been sent. It was as close as 
Shinji would come to receiving a letter from his estranged parent.

In a mood for entertainment, Shinji indulged his cello with a little oil. It 
was probably not necessary to maintain the finish on the wood in that 
way. Still, the body shone in the afternoon sunlight when all was done. 
Leaving the rag to soak in a bucket of soapy water, Shinji put the 
instrument into its case and wheeled it outside to glow and sing.

He wandered aimlessly away from the dormitories looking for 
somewhere to practice. The boy didn't mind the weight, but he felt 
uncomfortable about practicing when anyone else was around. His 
performance always sounded more toneless, and his mistakes more 
glaring, when he was under someone else's eyes.

Ten minutes after he began, he was taking a seat underneath one of the 
trees in the open area close to the front gates of Feuervogel. Shinji found 
that if he rested his back fully up against the tree, and tucked his legs 
underneath him, that what few roots grew about were enough to 
function as a seat. He could reach the strings with his bow and finger 
along the neck with ease. And, he was alone in the parkland

After tuning the strings and playing a few practice scales, Shinji played the 
Canon in D. It was his own arrangement of Pachelbel's music. Naturally, 
the eight chords of the theme were the same. Shinji had slowed the 
tempo, repeating the opening measures for cello at a slow pace, almost 
largo. When he felt comfortable with the feel of the piece, he broke free of 
the plain rhythms that Pachelbel had written. Shinji's cello instead 
followed a more lilting trilling melody, roughly that of the second violin.

The effect of his changes was subtle. By keeping the pace of the melody 
slow, even as the tune grew in complexity, he was able to use the cello's 
strengths to further beautify the music. The gentle ambling pace of his 
performance gave each note time to resonate in the cello's body. At the 
same time, Shinji's bowwork was as adept as any string player's. Each and 
every note was both discreet and contiguous, bringing its own proud 
sound to the Canon as a whole.

So Ikari Shinji played his own arrangement of Pachelbel's Canon in D. 
When it was done, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride in the 
performance. He put his cello away then, closing it up in its case. Then he 
put his hands behind his head and stared off away, looking for a place in a 
dream world where he could enjoy that music every moment of every 
long day.