From: Dreiser1@ix.netcom.com
Subject: [Eva][FanFic] Cold


Cold

By: Dreiser

	I suddenly pause in my walk as I enter the bath house.
It's completely empty. Except for her. It figures. Everywhere
I go she's manages to be there.
	Headquarters. She's there. Training. She's there.
School. She's there. Home.
	Well... she's hardly ever there but I bet she wishes that
she was there more often.
	I decide to suck it up and I perform my usual
confident flounce as I submerge myself into the hot water of
the bath.
	"Guten morgen."
	Now look, that was a perfectly nice greeting and
what's her reaction to it? Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zil--
	"Good morning."
	I blink at this. Did she just talk to me? She never talks
to me. Perhaps sensing my surprise she turns my way and for
once her eyes don't have that apathetic quality that so reminds
me of my Mother.
	My Mother and her dolls.
	And those dead black eyes the dolls had. Instead I
note that her eyes seem to flicker with restrained humor.
	"What? What's so funny?"
	"Nothing."
	Her voice remains in the same soft tones as always
but this time I can hear the slightest lilt. It's almost playful.
This discovery disturbs me almost as much as seeing emotion
behind her eyes. As long as I've known her she's been the
same as those cold unfeeling dolls my Mother had.
	For some reason I liked that.
	I relished in the fact that she was like the dolls
because if she was like them that meant that I didn't have to
be. I can still remember the mad rants of my Mother... calling
those dolls by my name. Treating them as if they were me and
treating me as if I were them. All my life that's what I've
rebelled against. I refuse to be the emotionless doll my
Mother wanted.
	But her... she was the doll for me. She was the
unfeeling creature in my place. And not once has she ever
shown a hint of human emotion towards me.
	Until now.
	"What's wrong?"
	Slowly I turn her way and I stare at her creamy skin.
That was the thing that struck me about her when we first
met. Her skin... white and delicate like a porcelain doll. There
is a timeless grace in her frame that reminds me of the old
Greek statues we've studied in school. To me her beauty is
cold and intimidating.
	Her eyes are now looking at me with concern and it's
more than I can fathom. It isn't supposed to be this way. She's
like those dolls that my Mother had.
	Dolls don't have emotions. Dolls don't show concern.
Dolls don't ask what's wrong.
	But if she isn't truly one of those dolls then why did
she act like them before? Why did she treat me the same as
my Mother had?
	"Asuka?"
	"I'm fine. Just thinking, that's all."
	"Oh."
	She turns away from me and walks smoothly out of
the bath to sit on a stool as she begins washing her hair. She's
not my Mother. I know this quite well but the similarities
between them are frightening. I watch her for a moment and
before I know it I'm asking her the question that I've longed
to voice. If I can't ask my Mother I'll ask her.
	"Do you care... about me?"
	A lump forms in my throat as she slowly lifts up a
bucket of water to wash the shampoo out of her hair. My
body is frozen and my heart is pounding a mile a minute.
Already I regret my question.
	"Of course."
	Her response is clipped as always but instead of
returning to washing her hair she turns my way and gives me
a close study.
	"Why did you ask me that?"
	"I... I don't know. I mean. I know you care about the
Commander but..."
	My mind runs out of words and I instinctively return
to the one thing that has always been my comfort in times of
frustration like this.
	I began spewing vulgarities in German.
	"That's your answer?"
	Once again there's humor in her voice. I scowl at this
and prepare to give her a rude retort but before I can she's on
her feet again. In a smooth steady pace she walks towards me
and lowers herself into the water to stand across from me.
	I'm frozen with... fear, anticipation, dread? I'm not
sure what but I'm frozen nonetheless. She stops only inches
away from me and tilts her head to one side then studies me
closely. I feel like a trapped animal and I desperately want to
escape.
	"Why did you ask me that?"
	She repeats the question in her same soft tones but
this time there's steel laced behind her words. I wince upon
hearing it and avert my eyes from her seeking gaze.
	"I don't know. I just had to ask you. That's all. You're
kind of a hard person to read and I didn't know if... if you felt
anything for me. I sometimes feel like I could die and you
wouldn't even notice."
	"I would notice. I always notice you."
	My heart stops on hearing this.
	"You do?"
	"Of course. You're difficult to ignore."
	Again the humor resurfaces and I smile before I can
help it. Much to my surprise she returns the smile. It's smaller
and more restrained but still, it's a smile.
	She suddenly moves forward and my heart leaps at
the gesture. Is she going to...?
	When she walks past me and out of the bath I'm not
sure if I'm feeling disappointment or relief. I watch
unabashedly as she dresses. She walks to the door to the bath
and I half expect her to walk out without saying so much as a
goodbye. After all, that's how it always is. Why should this
change anything?
	"Asuka."
	I lift my eyes on hearing my name. Her back is facing
me and she's paused in the doorway.
	"I've always cared for you."
	Frozen I watch as she walks away from me and out of
the bath house. Slowly a smile spreads across my features as I
sink into the steaming water.
	"Thank you Rei."

-End-

Both characters in this fanfiction are from Neon Genesis
Evangelion whose creators have plans far too lofty for a
mortal like me to ever fully comprehend. I didn't listen to a
song to inspire this piece of weirdness. I was just sitting at my
drawing table sketching when I paused to look at this picture
of Rei that had her staring ahead with that dead look in her
eyes. This is the result because I really did wonder... does Rei
care about Asuka? Does she care about anyone? If so, why?
She's not cared for herself, she's used over and over again for
other people's needs. Ah well, I need to stop thinking and
start doing my homework.

Send comments to: Dreiser1@ix.netcom.com

"And I said you don't need my voice girl, you've got your
own."
-Tori Amos-

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