Chapter 1
Why am I Pathetic?
Tired. That was the only thing that passed through my mind as my hand reached up the faded brass doorknob. I put the dull silver key in and turned it clockwise a quarter of the way, listened for a click, and went inside.
The eerie glow of my television set was the only welcome I received from my depressing one-room flat. I reached to my side and fumbled with the light switches as I had done hundreds of times before, and sure enough the soft hum of the fluorescent lights mingled with the muffled sounds coming from the traffic outside.
I sighed as I threw my cello case on a dilapidated orange couch, the springs emitting a labored groan as the ancient metal coils adjusted to the sudden weight. I walked over to the small kitchen, scratching the back of my head at the sight of empty pizza boxes and a sink-full of dirty dishes. "What a mess..." I muttered, angry with myself for making this place a pigsty.
I reached the stainless steel refrigerator, opened the door and felt a blast of cold air on my face. I stared sadly at the almost empty food stock. 'Guess I'll have to go grocery shopping.' I thought, reaching for an open carton of milk. Pulling the flap down, I drank the liquid, noting that it was starting to go sour.
"Shinji Ikari, what happened to you?" I thought, looking at my reflection on the steel surface of the icebox. A sad looking young man stared back at me. From the unbuttoned collar, to the faded blue slacks, and the lusterless leather shoes, the picture wasn't all that bad. But I looked into my reflection, into my eyes.
Behind the messy tangled bangs of hair and the rose-tinted glasses, questioning blue eyes stared back at me. I had always wondered how I got these piercing navy eyes. It was very rare for a Nippon to have such a color, and I liked that about myself. But looking into that face of the refrigerator, I looked old. Not old as in wrinkled and gray, but just... tired.
At twenty-one, I had reached the all-time low of my life. All I see now is a man who lost his purpose. The world didn't need me anymore, and everyday was just an exercise in futility. Was it really that long ago when I was battling the Angels? What happened to the avenging hero that people talk about, the savior of humanity that defied heaven and hell alike? I took one last look at myself and shook my head. It doesn't matter now, I thought sadly.
It seemed as if the last six years of my life was just a dream, that if I closed my eyes for a minute, I would wake up with Asuka screaming in my ear, with Misato's morning alcohol yell, and Pen-Pen pecking at my feet for his breakfast. I blinked, but I knew that nothing was going to happen.
Asuka finally became the war-honored hero she always bragged that she would become. I see her sometimes on T.V. It might be when she gets a new medal, when she goes on those talk shows that only the rich and glamorous attend, and she starred in her own documentary for some big-shot Hollywood studio. I hear that she was so good at acting, they were thinking of putting her in her own feature film.
I could still hear her voice when she received her first letter. She was almost floating that day. It was for a banquet in her honor by the German government. I was happy for her, but that was such a long time ago. I'm lucky to even get a postcard through Misato now that she was such a public figure.
Misato rose in ranks to become commander of NERV following Third Impact. After all the blood, sweat and tears of our former work, it was only by her permission that I finally broke free from EVA's damned grasp. I remember all the paperwork, the assurances and tests that we had to do. Transfers, replacements, all the information that I had learned from my stay at NERV, they had to keep it all safe. By the time I had finally gotten my dead-end job as a cellist at a local pub, I had lost everything short of my soul in signatures and promises.
I would see Misato every now and then, visiting the place where I play. Even six years of spirit-crushing work, she till maintained her beautiful figure. She stays until the last customer leaves, and goes up to the stage to talk to me. Mostly just idle talk, about Asuka's fortune, sometimes about the good old days. Whenever I strayed too much into the subject of work, she winked and gave me her disarming smile. "You know if I tell you, I'll have to drag you back down that road with me." she said jokingly, but a hint of grave seriousness always underlay her jibes.
Sometimes we would talk about Pen-Pen. Ah, Pen-Pen. After I got released from NERV, Misato insisted that I take the warm water penguin as a gift and that he would "keep me out of trouble". He died a year ago. I just came home after another burnout day, and he was sitting upright on the couch, one hand on the remote, one hand on a beer can. He looked like he was sleeping, but when I tried to wake him up, I realized it was to late.
I always admired the little bird. He lived the way he wanted, and he died the way he lived. He's buried in Kaji's melon patch, side-by-side to my only reminder of my other life role model. I kept my promise to the Kaji. Every afternoon, I would visit the little patch of earth, watered the plants and went home. I wonder whatever happened to him, but decided all I could do was care for his plants and see if I could keep them as healthy as he did.
So I find myself here again, living life after the thrill was gone, alone and miserable. I sat myself down in front of the television set, reached over to grab my phone, pushed the speed-dial and ordered my tri- weekly pizza. I zoned out as I watched the news. I saw Asuka again, and her movie's premiere was tonight, and more about uncovered documents of SEELE.
I sat there, taking in all this useless junk when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the pizza-man, I rose from my chair wearily. Unlocking the door, I was surprised to see a basket on my welcome mat. "What the..." I began, reaching down. A yellow sticky note was attached to the cloth on covering the basket.
*SURPRISE, IKARI-KUN.*
The note was written clearly and concise, as if a gentle hand had created the beautiful characters. I was about to mull over who had sent me this basket, when all of a sudden the cloth began to stir. "Huh..." I gasped. As if reacting to my words, the basket moved again. However, this time, a corner of the fabric came loose, and a pair of tiny claret eyes stared at me. "Oh my god..." I whispered.
I pulled back the sheets of the wicker basket. Slowly and carefully, I lifted the contents to my face. Pale blue tresses matted the head of the little child, and she stared blinking back at my astonished face. Her soft fair skin clashed against my lightly tanned arms. "Oh my god..." I repeated.
The infant was attired in a sky blue baby dress, and she rested her head on my chest. I panicked, but somehow I felt...warm. I held her close to me, and slowly cradled her. Her small mouth let out a cute yawn, and she fell asleep in my arms. I looked at the note on the basket again, my initial shock returning. Only one word came to my mind as to how this baby girl came to me.
"Rei..."
Notes: Why do I bother, Please give me a reason... -FPotM
Tired. That was the only thing that passed through my mind as my hand reached up the faded brass doorknob. I put the dull silver key in and turned it clockwise a quarter of the way, listened for a click, and went inside.
The eerie glow of my television set was the only welcome I received from my depressing one-room flat. I reached to my side and fumbled with the light switches as I had done hundreds of times before, and sure enough the soft hum of the fluorescent lights mingled with the muffled sounds coming from the traffic outside.
I sighed as I threw my cello case on a dilapidated orange couch, the springs emitting a labored groan as the ancient metal coils adjusted to the sudden weight. I walked over to the small kitchen, scratching the back of my head at the sight of empty pizza boxes and a sink-full of dirty dishes. "What a mess..." I muttered, angry with myself for making this place a pigsty.
I reached the stainless steel refrigerator, opened the door and felt a blast of cold air on my face. I stared sadly at the almost empty food stock. 'Guess I'll have to go grocery shopping.' I thought, reaching for an open carton of milk. Pulling the flap down, I drank the liquid, noting that it was starting to go sour.
"Shinji Ikari, what happened to you?" I thought, looking at my reflection on the steel surface of the icebox. A sad looking young man stared back at me. From the unbuttoned collar, to the faded blue slacks, and the lusterless leather shoes, the picture wasn't all that bad. But I looked into my reflection, into my eyes.
Behind the messy tangled bangs of hair and the rose-tinted glasses, questioning blue eyes stared back at me. I had always wondered how I got these piercing navy eyes. It was very rare for a Nippon to have such a color, and I liked that about myself. But looking into that face of the refrigerator, I looked old. Not old as in wrinkled and gray, but just... tired.
At twenty-one, I had reached the all-time low of my life. All I see now is a man who lost his purpose. The world didn't need me anymore, and everyday was just an exercise in futility. Was it really that long ago when I was battling the Angels? What happened to the avenging hero that people talk about, the savior of humanity that defied heaven and hell alike? I took one last look at myself and shook my head. It doesn't matter now, I thought sadly.
It seemed as if the last six years of my life was just a dream, that if I closed my eyes for a minute, I would wake up with Asuka screaming in my ear, with Misato's morning alcohol yell, and Pen-Pen pecking at my feet for his breakfast. I blinked, but I knew that nothing was going to happen.
Asuka finally became the war-honored hero she always bragged that she would become. I see her sometimes on T.V. It might be when she gets a new medal, when she goes on those talk shows that only the rich and glamorous attend, and she starred in her own documentary for some big-shot Hollywood studio. I hear that she was so good at acting, they were thinking of putting her in her own feature film.
I could still hear her voice when she received her first letter. She was almost floating that day. It was for a banquet in her honor by the German government. I was happy for her, but that was such a long time ago. I'm lucky to even get a postcard through Misato now that she was such a public figure.
Misato rose in ranks to become commander of NERV following Third Impact. After all the blood, sweat and tears of our former work, it was only by her permission that I finally broke free from EVA's damned grasp. I remember all the paperwork, the assurances and tests that we had to do. Transfers, replacements, all the information that I had learned from my stay at NERV, they had to keep it all safe. By the time I had finally gotten my dead-end job as a cellist at a local pub, I had lost everything short of my soul in signatures and promises.
I would see Misato every now and then, visiting the place where I play. Even six years of spirit-crushing work, she till maintained her beautiful figure. She stays until the last customer leaves, and goes up to the stage to talk to me. Mostly just idle talk, about Asuka's fortune, sometimes about the good old days. Whenever I strayed too much into the subject of work, she winked and gave me her disarming smile. "You know if I tell you, I'll have to drag you back down that road with me." she said jokingly, but a hint of grave seriousness always underlay her jibes.
Sometimes we would talk about Pen-Pen. Ah, Pen-Pen. After I got released from NERV, Misato insisted that I take the warm water penguin as a gift and that he would "keep me out of trouble". He died a year ago. I just came home after another burnout day, and he was sitting upright on the couch, one hand on the remote, one hand on a beer can. He looked like he was sleeping, but when I tried to wake him up, I realized it was to late.
I always admired the little bird. He lived the way he wanted, and he died the way he lived. He's buried in Kaji's melon patch, side-by-side to my only reminder of my other life role model. I kept my promise to the Kaji. Every afternoon, I would visit the little patch of earth, watered the plants and went home. I wonder whatever happened to him, but decided all I could do was care for his plants and see if I could keep them as healthy as he did.
So I find myself here again, living life after the thrill was gone, alone and miserable. I sat myself down in front of the television set, reached over to grab my phone, pushed the speed-dial and ordered my tri- weekly pizza. I zoned out as I watched the news. I saw Asuka again, and her movie's premiere was tonight, and more about uncovered documents of SEELE.
I sat there, taking in all this useless junk when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the pizza-man, I rose from my chair wearily. Unlocking the door, I was surprised to see a basket on my welcome mat. "What the..." I began, reaching down. A yellow sticky note was attached to the cloth on covering the basket.
*SURPRISE, IKARI-KUN.*
The note was written clearly and concise, as if a gentle hand had created the beautiful characters. I was about to mull over who had sent me this basket, when all of a sudden the cloth began to stir. "Huh..." I gasped. As if reacting to my words, the basket moved again. However, this time, a corner of the fabric came loose, and a pair of tiny claret eyes stared at me. "Oh my god..." I whispered.
I pulled back the sheets of the wicker basket. Slowly and carefully, I lifted the contents to my face. Pale blue tresses matted the head of the little child, and she stared blinking back at my astonished face. Her soft fair skin clashed against my lightly tanned arms. "Oh my god..." I repeated.
The infant was attired in a sky blue baby dress, and she rested her head on my chest. I panicked, but somehow I felt...warm. I held her close to me, and slowly cradled her. Her small mouth let out a cute yawn, and she fell asleep in my arms. I looked at the note on the basket again, my initial shock returning. Only one word came to my mind as to how this baby girl came to me.
"Rei..."
Notes: Why do I bother, Please give me a reason... -FPotM