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?"
--
Someone next door was playing the timpani. Or, Shinji admitted, it could 
be a recording. Verdi's Requiem, say, or a dance from Borodin's Prince 
Igor. At full volume, seeping through the wall into his ears. He tried to 
say, "Turn it down, will you?" out of the free side of his mouth, but his 
mouth wouldn't move. He was laying on his side, and there was a large 
block of wood in the middle of his mouth. He tried to push the 
obstruction away with his tongue, only to find that it was his tongue, all 
dried out in the air. _Something else,_ Shinji thought, _must be mashing my 
face down._ He raised his head.

Two white hot nails were driven through his eyeballs all the way to the 
back of his skull. Shinji gripped his face, pressing his palms over his eyes. 
He tried to scream, but the words caught on his dry tongue and came out 
as a strangled gurgle. After swallowing his saliva, he could move his 
tongue again, and the boy identified the source of the loud pounding. It 
was his own blood, pulsing through his head, jarring his ears as it went to 
and from his heart.

With an incoherent whine, Shinji slouched over into a sitting position on 
the bed. From somewhere nearby, a young man's voice--gratingly loud--
said, "Oh, hey, you're awake."

"Aaaugh," Shinji replied.

"You want some tea? It's gotten cold, but Kaji-sempai told me it's better 
that way."

Shinji groaned again, and nodded. Carefully, he removed his hands from 
his face, then forced his eyes open. A bomb flash ripped his vision, 
liquefied his eyeballs. Five seconds passed, six. Shinji's eyes adjusted to the 
daylight. For the first time, he could look around the room.

The painful daylight came from a window not his own. It was the 
discrepancy in his sense of light and dark that first told him something 
was wrong with the world around him, as well as the world within. 
Through the window came sunshine, clear and pure; so the room was on 
the east side of the building. Shinji's own room was on the west.

Then he saw the decorations. Bric-a-brac covered the room. Trophies, 
ribbons, photographs, books, a pair of broken drumsticks that had been 
reglued by a slovenly hand, countless movie and television monsters in 
miniature. In the middle of it all, Aida Kensuke sat at the table with an 
open book. By the book was a teapot. By the teapot was a teacup that 
Kensuke passed to Shinji.

"Where am I?" Shinji asked.

"My room," Kensuke replied.

"Not so loud," Shinji snapped.

"I'm whispering, Ikari," Kensuke retorted. "You, sir, are hung over."

Shinji looked down into the teacup. The face looking back up at him was 
vaguely his own--it was as green as he felt, certainly. The ripples across his 
face could be the pain that was coming in waves from the back of his 
skull.

"Allow me to explain," Kensuke said, snapping the book shut loudly 
enough to make Shinji cringe. "Last night, you overindulged yourself with 
spirits. This morning, while your liver gets all those nasty by-products out 
of your system, you are hung over. Congratulations--you've made an ass 
of yourself in front of a large group of people, so you are now officially a 
grown man. And yet, for some reason, I don't envy you."

Shinji slouched even lower. The face in the cup of tea looked miserable. In 
an effort to remedy their troubles, Shinji took a strong drink out of the 
cup. The tea tasted refreshingly bland in his mouth, expelling the taste that 
had built up from the night before.

Still with his sophomoric punditry, Kensuke continued. "You're 
experiencing short-term memory loss, aren't you? It's one of many 
symptoms of alcohol poisoning."

"Give me a second here," Shinji replied. His reflection looked no happier 
than it had been. Swirling ripples. Undulating motion...
--
"They're all fucking dogs."

"Uh-huh, whatever."

"They're all fucking dogs, eat their own vomit right in the middle of the 
street."

He was moving between warm bodies, back and forth. They were all that 
were keeping him upright. What did it matter, upright or prostrate? He 
was everyone's bitch...because...of...

"Whazzis?"

"This is Nagamara Dormitory, Shinji. You can crash in Kensuke's room 
tonight. (that OK?)"

"(yeah, sure) Come on inside, Ikari."

He tumbled headlong into darkness and kept falling. Falling like his 
spirits, like his sense of self-worth. Funny, how before the party he hadn't 
thought he had self-esteem to lose.
--
Shinji accepted another cup of tea. "I remember...that you and Shigeru 
helped me back here. But it doesn't make any sense, why didn't you take 
me home?"

Kensuke moved up onto the foot of the bed and sat Western-style. "Ikari, 
more than a hundred people died in a matter of minutes the first night 
Akumafune was open for business. I did _not_ want to set foot in there 
after dark, and neither did Shigeru. Fact is, we didn't trust you to be alone, 
so it was either here, or...nowhere."

"Where's Rei?"

"Sleeping downstairs, I guess. I don't know, I haven't checked on her. I 
was worried about you."

"..."

"After all," Kensuke went on, "if you'd thrown up and choked on it, I 
would've been responsible for your death, 'cause it's my room."

"Oh."

Before Shinji could start crying, even before he knew how much he 
wanted to cry, Kensuke grabbed him by the shoulder tightly. Two intense 
brown eyes burned through the shadow that lay across his face. "Ikari, 
listen. I want to be your friend, I really do. But things keep getting in the 
way. I know it's not your fault that everybody picks on you, and I 
sympathize with that. Everybody's gotten the short end of the stick 
before. God knows, I have.

"It's just that...when things aren't going your way...fuck it, Ikari, you scare 
me to death. I know in my heart that the real you isn't a sadistic maniac. 
Thing is, though, that that's the only other side of you I've seen. What am 
I supposed to think? I can wait until you lighten up, Ikari. I want you to 
know how much I'm forcing myself to go through with all this. Please, try 
and understand. I can't just...be everybody's friend automatically. You 
know?"

Shinji made no reply at all. He was still on the very cusp of letting his 
emotions run away, and he was fighting as awkwardly as before to keep 
them in check. Kensuke knew that the crisis moment was coming; and at 
Shinji's expense, he  had delivered his confession of ambivalence before 
the storm could break. So done, he rose and pulled Shinji to his feet. 
"C'mon, Ikari. Let's go find Ayanami and see how she's doing. OK?"

"'Kay," Shinji said dully. The sound of a tear dropping, played backwards.

They walked side by side through the hallways down to the cafeteria on 
the first floor. A few people were taking their breakfast; Shinji assumed 
that the rest were all still sleeping off whatever effects they felt from the 
night before. A party. It had seemed like quite a large party, but 
something wasn't right. Even the few parties Shinji had been to--"been 
invited along on as an afterthought" was maybe a better description--
didn't seem like that one, as he remembered it.

It struck him, as he joined Rei, that the reason was that he had been the 
center of attention the night before.

"Good morning," he said casually.

"Good morning," she replied. It came out stiffly.

"Are you all right, Rei?"

"I am fine. Are you well?"

Ayanami Rei was holding him in contempt. There was a definite edge to 
her voice. Consciously or not, she was putting Shinji off. He looked at her 
hands. Her thumb was twitching against the bamboo on her chopsticks.

"I'm not feeling well," Shinji stated. "I don't remember what I was doing 
last night, but I'm hung over now."

Rei nodded. "You drank one cup of beer. Later in the evening you 
regurgitated it, and left the party shortly afterwards."

_One beer,_ Shinji thought. _I guess I am a lightweight._ Rei had finished her 
breakfast and was staring at her clean dishes. She looked sincerely bored. 
Shinji wondered why she was so open with her feelings. The girl was 
usually more discreet than that.

Before he could pursue the thought, they were joined by Shigeru and 
Kensuke, carrying breakfast trays. Kensuke set out rice and miso in front 
of Shinji while Shigeru sat next to Rei, kitty-corner from Shinji.

"G'morning," the musician said to Shinji. "I'm surprised to see you up this 
early, it's only a quarter after eight. I'm up 'cause I've got some 
homework to do, but I hadn't expected you out of bed before noon."

"Yes," Shinji said. "I woke myself up...I was too hung over to sleep in."

"Bad luck." Shigeru clicked his tongue with sympathy, then said to 
Kensuke, "Did he quiet down after we tucked him in?"

"Uh-huh."

"You get any sleep?"

"A little. I'll take a nap this afternoon."

They finished their breakfast in silence. Everyone was reluctant to talk, 
held by the fear that comes with unaccounted memories and the pain of 
their recollection.
--
"Hi, Rei. Hi, Shinji. 'S'matter?"

Suzuhara Touji greeted his guests as they entered, carrying morning 
sunlight on their heels. He was sitting upright, his lower half covered by 
the bedsheet. A tray on short legs, black and red imitation lacquer, had 
been placed over what remained of his midsection. Touji was eating pieces 
of fresh fruit from a plate in its center--he still couldn't use chopsticks with 
his left hand.

Shinji pulled up a chair to Touji's bedside, being careful not to disturb the 
prostheses lying on the end table. "It's something Kensuke said," he 
moaned. "Kensuke said that he doesn't like me. It's true, isn't it? Doesn't 
anyone? I mean, you only talk to me because you feel bad about the Duel, 
and Rei...Rei's different, because she's supposed to be my bride. But I 
don't really matter, do I? And I just got to thinking..."

"Shinji, whoa, boy." Touji held up his hand and leaned over to Shinji, his 
modesty protected by the table. "Now, listen. Kensuke's just a little 
messed up, he probably didn't realize what he said to you. What did he 
say?"

"He said...he said that he wanted to be my friend, but..."

"Take your time. It's OK."

Shinji furiously squeezed his fists together, glaring at the mountain range 
his knuckles had become, for almost a minute. When he had finally got his 
focus, Shinji talked low and with great restraint. "Touji...I never meant to 
do anything wrong...but Kensuke said he wasn't really my friend because 
of how I act when I lose myself. But dammit, I never WANT to lose 
control of myself! And it's not easy when...you know...I feel like 
everyone's out to get me."

"..."

"Touji, I need to know." He met the boy's eyes, then stared at his hands 
again. "Are you really my friend? Or what?"

"'Course I am," Touji replied.

"No, wait...let me finish. Kensuke said that even if you said you were my 
friend, subconsciously you'd always hate me. It's not true, is it? Are you 
always going to hate me?"

Touji shook his head wearily and shifted his weight on the bed. "It's an 
argument we got in last year when Kensuke started in on combat 
psychology," he explained. "Kensuke was all going off on Freud and stuff, 
and how we really just hate everything and we're all nuts deep down 
inside. And what I told him was, well, so what? If it's true that we can't 
control our subconscious minds, we can at least try and be good people. 
And we argued about that for a while.

"So yeah, I'm your friend. I can't just wish it away if I'm still angry deep 
down too deep for me to see, but nobody can. What we can do is hang 
out, and be friends and have fun instead."

Shinji was less than satisfied with the answer, his frustrated scowl and fists 
told the story. His plate empty and his belly full, Touji pushed the tray 
away from him and tried another approach. "You two want to spot me 
for my walking this morning?"

Rei was the first to speak. "I will," she said softly. After a moment, Shinji 
unwound enough to nod, and soon after that a shy kind of smile was 
across his face. He took the tray away, and the two visitors departed for a 
moment to give Touji his privacy.

When they returned, Touji was sitting awkwardly on his bedside. His 
prosthetic arm and leg were black, and they were shaped very much like 
human limbs. They fit in to his shoulder and thigh on metalloid links that 
were screwed directly into the bone. Over them he was wearing drawers 
and a long t-shirt. "See? I can dress myself!" he said in mock pride. Shinji 
laughed rather than berate himself.

With Rei on one side and Shinji on the other, the boy stood and walked in 
tiny steps to a set of parallel bars on the other side of the room, facing the 
window. Touji first reached with his left hand, then stepped up into place 
on his left leg. Shinji helped him ease his right arm into place on the bar. 
With no sense of touch further along his arm than his shoulder, Touji 
could only place his trust in the strength of prosthetics and his own 
balance. Days after his rehabilitation had begun, he still felt nervous as he 
leaned forward, feeling his weight supported by the resurrected limb.

"OK," he half-gasped, "I'm ready."

His leg went less than a handspan down the thigh before it met the 
interface and then the prosthesis. Touji swung his leg forward only a few 
degrees of arc. He saw his adopted foot inch out in front of him. It was the 
moment he would take flight. He put his body weight onto the foot. It 
held. It held him upright between the two bars, pointing out the window 
to the world outside.

Touji slid his left hand forward, only enough to compensate for the shift. 
Then he stepped with his left leg. He pushed his right arm up ahead, not 
further than he could easily recover from. Then it was the right leg's turn 
again, and he eased it up ahead of his left leg. Left leg. Left arm. Right 
arm, gently. Right leg, subtly.

"I'm doin' it," he said, all nervous sweat and energy. "I think I'm gettin' it."

"Your form is proper," Rei announced.

Shinji gave Touji a very light pat on the back. "Very good, Touji!"

"Ack! Not too hard!"

They all held still as Touji fought off the urge to flail around. His athlete's 
discipline kept him under control. He was a puppeteer for his own body, 
guiding it through a show, a dance, a program. If there was any 
unconscious hostility he held, it was drowned, washed over by golden joy 
and pride in his first steps to freedom.
--
When he grew tired of practice, Shinji and Rei said goodbye to Touji and 
took their leave. The weather outside was fair, warm cut by a breeze. The 
scent of cut grass was in the air, full and rich.

The three Magi were waiting for them as they passed by, with their 
monitors tilted up expectantly.

"Good morning."

"I hope you're feeling well today."

"Better than you were last night."

Shinji nodded. "I can't even remember being sick."

"That's not it at all."

"Scared. Vulnerable."

"Alone in the crowd. The target of everyone's emotions."

"You couldn't handle it, Ikari. You couldn't deal with the loud and shallow 
feelings, and so you buckled like a bridge."

"Not that I can't understand. After all, stronger people than you would 
have given in."

"But you gave in so far you gave out, and that's what's got me worried."

"I wonder, I wonder, do you know what I wonder?"

"Do you know yourself, Ikari?"

"Shouldn't you know yourself, Ikari?"

"It's unpleasant medicine, but it's the only way to make yourself well."
--
"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

Shinji managed to get his mouth full of beer down before he could taste it. 
What he'd heard was true, it tasted like urine. And it tasted like a drug 
should taste, like panic. His body knew that there was something wrong 
inside the noxious liquid. It didn't belong in his mouth or in his body. But 
his brain forced it down his mouth anyway, afraid of the world around 
him; willing to take the pain in exchange for security.

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

The impact of the alcohol came like a creature breaking from an egg 
inside his middle. His vision came in through stained glass. The light 
wasn't...right. It didn't shine on him like it was supposed to. The people 
around him were more like tissue paper on glass than human beings. 
Even the air was wrong. It was moving down his throat too slowly, a 
tumbling turbulent mass that shrank from the touch of his skin.

As soon as he could breath again, hands--not his own--were tipping his 
jaw up and pressing the beer to his mouth. He was stark terrified, because 
his mind was so clouded he didn't know right from wrong anymore, and 
there was nowhere to turn to for help.
--
"Ikari Shinji?"

He turned at the shout. Rei followed his glance half a step later, and Pen-
pen hurriedly waddled up to peek over the laurel bush and see what was 
the matter. The speaker was an upper class girl, standing expectantly 
outside of Kazarashi Dormitory. Her hair was peroxide blonde. She was 
dressed in her school uniform on a holiday, and wore a fashionable 
pendant around her neck. She stood like someone important, without any 
fear of disrespect.

"I just wanted to let you know," she explained, walking up to the group to 
stand a comfortable distance away. "Misato and Asuka-chan are trying to 
find you, Ikari-san. They've been looking all over for you, ever since 
daybreak."

That had been over three hours before. Shinji glanced around as if hoping 
to catch sight of them. He returned his gaze to the girl and asked, "Any 
idea why?"

"I'm assuming it's because of what happened at the party, but I haven't 
talked to them about it."

The boy paled. "What happened at the party? What do you mean?"

She became evasive. "Well, I wasn't actually at the party, so anything I say 
is hearsay. Anyway," she went on, "I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks for your trouble," Shinji said with confusion weighing on his 
voice as their informant returned to the dormitory. He quietly asked Rei, 
"Who was that?"

"Ohtori Kanae," she replied. "Ohtori is Ibuki Maya's roommate. She is a 
senior after skipping her first year..."

Rei cut short her explanation--an excited shout came from behind them, to 
the west. Without turning, Shinji guessed who it would be. But it was not 
until he turned, until he looked and saw what had happened to Asuka, 
that he remembered; and he realized what they wanted him for.
--
Shinji barely made it to the garbage can at the end of the hall before he 
vomited. Even when he was through ridding his body of the poisons in its 
stomach, the taste and smell of bile remained. He had brought a packet of 
tissues with him, and he began to use them to wipe out his mouth, taking 
bunches out of the wrapper at once. He was still spitting foul saliva out 
when Sohryu Asuka Langley joined him.

Asuka was dressed in jeans and a loud sleeveless shirt. Flesh and 
vengeance were on her mind, and a coy smile was on her face.

"Guten Abend, Herr Ikari," she said as she approached him from behind. 
"Are you having a good time?"

"No," he replied, terse and dangerously quiet. The  taste in his mouth was 
thinning, but a burning rawness in his throat took its place. In search of 
distraction, he looked Asuka: her blue eyes, her viper smile, her skin that 
caught the indirect light from the party. She was shining like a will-o'-the-
wisp.

"I'm a little drunk," she said in her most sultry, least whiny voice. She 
moved into position by the garbage can, carefully turning the lower half 
of her body towards the stairwell where they would be going presently. 
"D'you...want to walk me back to my room?"

"No."

"Eh?"

"I just want to leave." Shinji was standing upright again, but weaving a 
little. He rested a hand on the edge of the garbage can. His fingers 
crinkled the black plastic of the garbage bag.

Asuka bit her lip. It wasn't working! Misato had made flirting look so 
simple, and Shinji was an easy target--he was drunk, Gott in Himmel, that 
should've made him a pushover. Every boy in the school would be 
furious if they saw her making out with _him,_ of all people. Even Kaji-
sempai. But Shinji wasn't playing along, what was the matter?

She tried a different tactic. "It won't take long, I won't keep you," she said. 
Inspiration struck her, and she reached out a hand for Ikari's. "We won't 
be more than a minute, then you can..."

The hand flew upwards and shoved her, just above the left breast. "Leave 
me alone, Langley," he said. His voice had fallen, even lower and quieter 
than it had been.

Paralyzed by her failure, Asuka was the victim of circumstances as her 
inebriation and her momentum carried her forward into him. He pushed 
her back with both hands, out into the middle of the hallway. "I said leave 
me alone, and I meant LEAVE ME ALONE, GOD DAMMIT!"

Shinji's first punch was a perfect right hook, smashing into Asuka's right 
eye socket full force. She staggered backwards, screaming, curling up 
against the far wall as Shinji swung his left fist. It was a gut jab, slamming 
into the soft area above her navel. Asuka couldn't breathe as she waited 
for the next blows to come.

Then the party was deflating, spilling out into the hallway at the young 
girl's screams. Two young men tried to grab hold of Shinji, and were 
more scared then hurt when he threw them both off simultaneously, 
swinging his arms like twin axes. A space cleared for him, people piled up 
against each other as he raved. "I haven't done one single thing since I got 
here, and what do I get? I get shit! I get shit from you fucking dogs, and I 
don't deserve it! I never wanted any of this to happen, at all, but now that 
it has happened I don't care! I don't care if you all just fuck off and die or 
what, just leave me alone! ALONE! Rei? Rei, where the hell are you? Let's 
get out of here and go..."
--
Shinji picked himself off the cold granite floor. Whites and grays with 
speckles of black. Overhead, the sky was overcast. The halo of the sun 
came through the cloud layer, giving light to the tableau of the Dueling 
Arena.

Katsuragi Misato, like Akagi Ritsuko before her, had changed into a boy's 
uniform. She carried with her a short sword, and a true sword it was--
with its wide flat blade, it could be nothing else. Rei had already pinned 
the Angel's Heart to her breast. Misato's expression was dark and sullen. 
Her hair was free, shading her face.

Her feet bare against the cold stone surface, Rei stepped lightly to stand at 
Shinji's side. She arched her back, letting her head and mouth fall wide 
open, wider than she should have been able. From out of her mouth, 
from out of the light spilling forth, Shinji drew out the purple and silver 
blade. He said, "Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of 
our God, and the power of his Christ!"

Rei affixed the Angel's Heart to his shirt, and they parted. Misato raised 
her blade to a guard position. "You're the son of a bitch, Ikari," she 
snarled. "I was wrong to reach out to you. I never should have invited 
you to the party."

Shinji raised his own blade to guard, not full face like Misato, but across 
his chest. A few paces separated them. "You were wrong, Misato," he said. 
"I don't disagree with you there. But on the way up here, I got to thinking 
about you..."

His voice drifted off as he approached Katsuragi, circling around her, 
forcing her towards the back of Rei's throne. Misato tried to move out of 
the way, but found herself uncomfortably close to the obstruction. Her 
steps were heavy and out of rhythm. When she was a pace and a half 
away from it, Shinji started talking again. "You're a strategist, aren't you? 
It was part of your plan to invite me to the party. You wanted to get me 
drunk, didn't you?"

"No," Misato replied, too quickly.

Shinji thrusted inside Misato's guard. She tried to swat away his blade, but 
staggered backwards. Her rear end caught the edge of the throne and she 
almost fell.

He circled again, this time to her front. She was trapped in between the 
sword and the throne. "You were going to get me drunk, and challenge 
me to a Duel, and win back Rei while I was too unsteady to fight. But 
Asuka interrupted your plans. And then, before you could find me, I'd 
had a full night's sleep and you were dog tired from  searching for me."

He had come in close, very close. The tip of the sword was at Misato's 
neck. Shinji flicked his blade, knocking her Angel's Heart free. Then he 
kicked her leg out from underneath her and she fell onto her back, 
sprawled out on the seat of the throne.

The heart fell to the ground.

"It is over," Rei said.

"Not quite, Rei." Shinji held up his left hand while his right one pressed the 
sword's tip to Misato's throat. "Answer me this, Katsuragi Misato. What 
did my father do that made everyone on this campus so angry with me?"

Misato was in a truly pathetic state. She had been defeated in a picayune 
short time. No pride, even in her failure. She was being assaulted by a 
young man who had beat up a friend of hers, at a party she was 
responsible for. Her body was at his mercy, and that body was tired and 
aching. The only hope she had was that it would all be over quickly.

"Fuck you, Ikari," she sighed. "If it's any consolation, we'll all see each 
other in Hell."

Ikari Shinji hit her between the eyes with the guard of his sword. He did 
not see the crack spread across the back of her skull as her head hit the 
sharp edge of the throne's armrest. He watched the blood ooze out as her 
head rolled to one side, he watched it silently.

After a few minutes, the wound had clotted, and her breathing was 
normal and regular.

"What will we do with Katsuragi?" Rei asked as Shinji stood up from his 
examination.

"I think we'll leave her right there," Shinji replied, handing Rei the sword. 
"Getting home should prove an interesting challenge for her."