Disclaimer: All copyrights belong to their respectful owners. I do not own Evangelion, or any related works, Evangelion belongs to Hideaki Anno and Studio Khara. I simply wish to entertain.
Hello everyone. I want to start by saying I deeply apologize for my silence. It wasn't fair of me as a writer to simply leave my last work. This story written below is the re-write of Less Interesting Things, you all remember? That story that some of you liked and that I kinda tossed around? Well, this is the final version, there will be no more "Yeah I'm gonna just not post anything and redo the whole damn thing without a word." I am proud of the work I have put into this story and I truly hope you all will enjoy it! Once again I truly am sorry that I haven't posted anything in a while. This first chapter is somewhat experimental in terms of witting style, so please review! All kinds of feedback are appreciated. I was inspired to transform LIT into Boy's Life because of Gregg Landsman's Nobody Dies and NGE: Campus Apocalypse. My thanks to you Gregg Landsman and Ming-Ming. I hope my work even registers compared to yours!
Boy's Life on the Battlefield
Part I
Chapter I:
Man is a creature that is truly fascinating.
With legs, he stands.
With arms, he reaches.
With eyes, he sees.
With mind, he thinks.
With lips, he speaks.
With air, he breathes.
With passion, he loves.
Not only, man is also unequally strong.
With tools, he builds.
With enemies, he wars.
With want, he wishes.
With dreams, he chases.
With fall, he rises.
With will, he does.
But man may also be cruel.
With few, he flees.
With many, he leads.
With lies, he deceives.
With knives, he thrusts.
With swords, he cuts.
Man is malleable. He is both were good and evil are, as well as where they meet. He is at the boundary of kind and cruel, the border of truthful and deceitful, he stands inside the light and sits by the shadow. Unflinchingly, however, Man is always where the strong are, regardless of circumstance.
With malice, he creeps.
With apathy, he neglects.
With power, he corrupts.
Whichever force that acts, it will overpower him. A negative quality to his abundant intrigue, but such is in his nature and cannot be helped. Good will always reside in the absence of evil, it is wherever Man stands that colors him. But it is because he stands in so many places, it is hard to picture exactly what color man truly is.
With Death, he weeps.
With loss, he grieves.
A strange color indeed, the color of both good and evil.
With life, he changes.
Man is also a social creature, he is made to live with many, but he may also live secluded, alone. A sad creature then, Man alone. However as man might change, he questions why. Why he does...
Why he reaches...
Why he stands...
Why he cowers...
Why he fights...
Why he weeps...
It is the pinnacle of Mans nature to question why, to place reason behind his actions. It is that part of man that separates him from a mindless beast, an ordinary animal. Something must drive him to do. It is true that Man's resolve can wither, his judgement muddied, and his perception fooled. But what cannot be changed about him is the force behind his actions, however withered, muddy, or foolish they may be. But what would become of him of he were to change himself? To end the fundamental part of Man that results in him being Man?
If Man were to lose the driving force behind him...
Then what would man do?
A cool morning fog creeps across his sensory boundaries. The solid, frigid ground alarming him as he was not where he laid down last. Eyes snap open, he bolts upright. Obsidian blue irises take in the scene before them. Scores of Cattails reach for the firmament above, towering over him. Tentatively, he stands. Instincts oxygenating his senses as he perceives the spread around him, the foliage continuing to blind.
The fair skin of his figure lays dull against the novel background. Shadowy black hair cascades into infinitesimal strands. The voluminous teal shirt he wears is soft and yielding, if yet a size too large. The garment exclaims many years of wear and attrition. He wears a tattered pair of Night-black sweatpants, slack and shapeless. He has no shoes, In protest his soles writhe against the sentiment of frostbite.
The heavens look as though they are about to weep. A dismal grey sweeps the sky in deliberate motion and indifference, apathetic to the witness below. He had lain himself down the previous night as a boy, of exhaustion, perhaps. Now, he stands a shivering, fair-framed victim of context in an outwardly endless stretch.
With no perceptive jeopardy, the boy relaxed, unbending his limbs from their defensive positions as to stand up strait and unencumbered. He looked to his hands, in each a weight. Gripped in his right, a glinting, silvery lighter. The grains of steel visible in its rounded box frame. In his left, a wallet filled thick, a sight foreign to the boy.
Slipping the lighter into his right pocket, his eyes remain fixated on the holder. Opening it anxiously, the folds of the leather stretch to accommodate themselves. Amidst the interior were bills, denizens of bills, one-thousands, five-thousands, and ten-thousands of yen, all in his hand.
A picture holder is clipped inside the wallet. Underneath the translucent material, the impressions of colors call out to him. There rest two slots for pictures, both filled.
The first picture, a younger girl. Feminine features were all but absent from her pictured visage, an oddity however, the girl. Brilliant cut, cyan hair glowed against the reddish-grey backdrop. With a piercing nature her eyes, a glimmering red, resonate with her hair in parallel. She possesses soft, velvet skin with an equally pale complexion. Her head is trained to her right.
The succeeding image, another girl, slightly older than her predecessor. She has long, flowing blond hair, with a tint of red, and a more angular face. The strawberry-blonde's bright blue eyes look not at, but into the boy who looked at them. She has a fair complexion, just lighter than his own. Her head is locked to her left.
He knows the images hold some significant value to him, yet he cannot discern it. The women hold some place special to him in his heart, but the boy has only their faces as an answer.
He shoves the wallet into his left pocket, a third weight makes itself known to him. Stinging cold brushes the skin of his leg. He looks down, a wooden handle protrudes from his waist. He grips it, the object is as hefty as it is heavy, evenly balanced. A feeling of equilibrium is established between the grip and his hand, as if it is commonplace for him, right, natural.
The morning light shines on the cool metal encased by the smooth wood, it is a gun. A sinister glint gleaming from the barrel. PYTHON .357 etched prominently on the side.
Eyes widen, followed by a sigh. Today was not going to be a normal day for Shinji Ikari.
"Where am I?" He asked himself. Nothing was familiar, even as the plant life receded. The grass on his feet was somewhat more comfortable than the bare dirt, but it did little to shake his fear. Shinji never did well in new places.
At last, a ray of hope, an answer! As the slope of the grassy knoll began to flatten, a road came into sight. On the horizon grey and white statures of steel and concrete stood high in the firmament. Four-wheeled machines lined the sides of the streets.
"Cars? A road? A City!" Mirthful at the auspicious scene, a smile crept onto the boys solemn face.
The distanced Skyscrapers reflect the sunlight peaking through the clouds, the warm rays light the intersection. The concrete is rough on his feet but he pushes the sensation out of his mind.
"Hello?" He calls out. "Is anyone there? Hello!"
The city is silent.
"H-Hello?" He calls again, a timid stutter. A cold breeze answers.
His airy mood is sullen once more. The automobiles that line the streets are empty, and the shops are closed. Suddenly, a thought creeps into Shinji's mind. The cool wind nips at the nape of his neck, as if it were seducing him.
A dangerous seduction, it abashes him. He should not have given away his position. Something is following him. He must leave.
A block afield danger still whispers in Shinj's ears. He starts walking a bit faster. Two blocks and still no change, it was just getting darker and colder. Any all spots in the clouds that would let light in have now closed, separating the two worlds. The heavenly, sun-lit world above, and the cold, dreadful world Shinji endures now.
His mind went blank, he forgot where he was. Several more blocks had passed and every building now looked almost identical. They were all massive towers of metal and glass, reaching up and scraping the sky. A primal, child-like feeling itched at him. Fear, the same, irrational beast from before. He began to lose it. Everything raced through his mind in a blur. His thoughts, his heart rate, the cool air, the unseen monster chasing him. His thoughts, his heart, the air, the monster. Thoughts, Heart, air, monster. Thoughts, heart, air, monster, the boy.
"A boy?" His thoughts stop, his heart skips a beat, the air softens and the monster disappears. A boy stands in the center of the intersection, equidistant from four skyscrapers. Ash-grey hair is the first thing Shinji notices. His black jacket slowly flaps in the breeze, his black pants and shoes almost make him a shadow. He looks fixated on a point above them. Before Shinji had realized, the boy had craned his neck down and shot a glance his way, their eyes meeting. Shinji's blue captivated by his red. They stand opposite of each other.
He mouths something unheard by Shinji, it makes him tense. A slight smile is on the others face, the ashen- haired teen squares himself, facing Shinji directly, then takes a step forward. The raven haired boy immediately steps back, his heart racing once more.
"S-Stay back..." He tries to menace the other, but the act goes as if unnoticed. The other is now mere feet away from him. He stands even taller than Shinji, his smile is still worn.
"Hey...I-I said stay back!" Shinji's voice projects more, but it is still a shaky threat. He pulls his Python out from his waistband to reinforce his command. The ashen boy steps closer, the feeling of his own air being sucked up by this black-suited aura-of-sanctity restrains him from attacking. The raven haired boy points his pistol at his on-comer, yet his wobbly impedance betrays Shinji's resolve. All he wanted to do was run, the boy had never been this terrified in his life. All he wished to do was run, but all he could do was tremble.
As he backed away from the suited boy he tripped over a fracture in the concrete, landing him on his rear. He straitened his arm, but it wobbled again. The ashen boy stopped his advance, gently leaning over, putting his index on the barrel of Shinji's weapon and swaying it away from him. Shinji was absolutely powerless. Something about this boy told him that he is not one to harm, but the raven's instincts screech at him, beseech him to kick the other away.
Their faces now linger only inches apart, heart beating in his ears, Shinji finds himself powerless.
The ashen boy smiles wider and chuckles, a warm, knowing chuckle. Suddenly the sound of tension flees Shinji's ears.
He swears this boy has some sort of talent for bending fear and happiness to his liking.
"Forgive me..." The suited boy says, in a soft, calming voice. "It has been a while since I last saw another person. When I heard you step towards me I... Well I got a little excited!"
He offers his hand, but Shinji still is not trusting. He rises by himself, eyes still locked, watching, praying for a reason to attack. He promises himself he will not let this boy simply walk through his defenses a second time.
The other laughs, trying to alleviate the tension. Shinji does nothing but breathe.
"By chance, might I have your name?"
"...What's your name?" Shinji attempts to maintain some semblance of strength in his inflection.
"My name is Kaworu, Kaworu Nagisa..." He said. "And you?"
"Kaworu..." Shinji repeated. "Kaworu...Of the seashore?"
"M hm." Kaworu replied.
Shinji hesitated. "...M-M name is...Shinji, Shinji Ikari."
Kaworu's smile grew even wider. A silence cut between them, neither of them were really sure what to say or do.
"Do you have anything you look up to?" Kaworu asks.
"...What do you mean?"
"Everyday, I like to come and... Look up at these buildings. They're a testament to mankind's achievements. Many people would say that they are nothing but erections of steel and concrete but, I find them sentimental." He pauses. "I think, I think they were kind in leaving something behind for us, to let us know how high they reached."
Shinji is silent.
"I think it was kind of them to give us a goal." Kaworu continues, looking up.
"You say they 'were', like people aren't still building, at least, I-I think that's what you mean." The raven answers. "Why do you talk like that?"
"There are no more people to continue building..." Kaworu replies.
A breeze.
"W-What does that mean?"
"I mean that there is no-one who is alive to build. This city is empty."
Shinji's skin grows cold. This boy's words are nothing short of frightening. A pattern presents itself to the raven; happy, sad, happy sad happy sad. Where does it end for this boy, he asks?
"When I saw it was going to rain, I was afraid I wouldn't get to see them today." Kaworu starts. " Most of my day consists of acquiring food and firewood. I always go to sleep alone, perhaps it's a miracle of some sort? That you stumbled upon me?" He looks back at Shinji, still smiling ever wider.
"...Y-You're weird, you know that, right?" Shinji sighs, slipping his pistol back into his waistband, covering it with his shirt. Kaworu laughs again.
The mood sharpens again, Kaworu's smile withers and he shoves Shinji beside him. Before he can ask what he was doing, an earth-shattering CRASH splits their relaxation.
The force of impact causes the ashen teen to stumble a few steps back, a crater has formed in the asphalt were he was standing. In it, a man. Dressed in a black track suit with a navy-blue hue. Short brown hair and a equal temper shoot from the new comer like waves of heat from fire.
Without a word, the man charges from the crater, throwing a punch at Kaworu. A prick of surprise catches Kaworu off-guard. The man's right arm is encased in a metal vambrace, making it nearly twice the size of his left. The ashen-haired teen quickly ducks, dodging the lethal cuff. The attacker grunts and rears back his armored fist again, striking the ground and shaping another crater in the road. He looks up, Kaworu stands casually, as though he isn't worried in the least.
Shinji is back on his feet as well, but unsure of what to do.
"Who is THIS guy? Just what the hell is going on?!" He sweats.
"You two know each other!" The attacker shouts, a deeper, Okinawan accent. "Who are you two?"
"We just met! Perhaps today is my lucky day! The day I no longer sleep alone!" Kaworu replies.
The man's face screws into a scowl, one of confusion.
"I don't care 'bout yer weird love life! I just want what ya' got!" He shouts again.
"What do you want, exactly?" Kaworu asks, still no sign of fear apparent on his features.
"Food, water, whatever ya' got!"
"What if we don't have anything?"
"Then yer not worth anythin'!" He charges again, swinging madly at the black-suited boy. Kaworu dodges each of his attacker's blows with grace and ease, his eyes still half open, half closed as they were.
"God Damn it, ya bastard stand still!"
"As it stands between us I think it's better..." He cartwheels to his right, escaping another blow. His body fluidly rolling back into a standing position. "To stay animate..."
"...What should I do?" Shinji thinks. "I don't know either of these guys, maybe I should stay out of it and see what they can do..."
"I'm gettin' real tired o' yer hot crap attitude!" The brunette charged again, Kaworu readied himself. At the last moment, the attacker faked a shot to the gut, Kaworu jumped aside. Seizing the opportunity, the attacker continued charging for Shinji. The raven's eyes widen.
"So much for staying out of it..." He thinks sardonically. He reaches for his revolver and his hand makes it to the grip, but his attacker is too fast, he knows he wont make it.
"...Ah! OW!" The brunette stops in front of Shinji, clutching his head. He staggers back, is it another feint?
The attacker drops to his knees, his groans transforming into howls. Suddenly the blood-curdling cries cease and his head snaps up, eyes wide. Then he collapses, his gauntlet disappearing.
"Oh...Oh Jesus I did it. I really did it." A lighter voice rambles. Both Shinji and Kaworu glance at the side of the highway. On the side walk another boy is crouched by the wall of the building. He has curly blond hair and brown-framed glasses. He wears a red shirt underneath an un tucked white dress shirt, and black dress pants. Shinji can't help but be struck by its resemblance to a high school outfit.
"Are...D-Did you do that?" Shinji asked, surprise evident in his voice.
"I ah...Y-Yeah...Yep! That was all me! You'd better believe it, too!" He called.
Shinji, eyes still wide, steps forward.
"OH GOD PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I'M STILL A VIRGIN!"
This startles Shinji, if it did not make him laugh first.
"You just saved my life! Why would I want to kill you?" Shinji asked.
"O-Oh, y-your not...Gonna kill me?"
An awkward silence.
"I'm kind of new to this whole scenario to, so what's your name?" Shinji asks, offering his hand.
"I'm Kensuke, and you, maybe you can tell me what's going on?"
"My name is Shinji..." The raven answers, gesturing to himself. "And apparently...He isn't going to be sleeping alone anymore." He says, pointing to Kaworu.
Night settles in an hour later. The sky is black with rain clouds as the havens begin to weep, the droplets of tears from the perfect world above splash down slowly, one by one at first. A minute later, a few more at a time, finally a torrent so thick it appears as though the whole world beyond ones eyes is blue.
"Man...What luck huh? We came inside just as it started to rain..." Kensuke comments. The hiss of metal on metal echoes through the room as Kaworu pulls a curtain over the windows. He stops at Kensuke, a silent word that he wishes the blond would move. Kensuke obliges.
"Thank you for letting us stay with you, Nagisa." Shinji starts.
"You're welcome, Ikari." Kaworu replies.
"How old are you two?" Kensuke chimes in. "Don't you guys think we're being a little formal?"
"Well I don't know either of you, it just seems appropriate."
"I personally don't care, you can call me Kaworu." The ashen boy smiles.
"Oh. Thank you, Shinji is fine for me." The raven replies.
"So what are we going to do with him?" The blond points to the brunette.
His muscular frame burns its image in their eyes. It becomes clear that one blow would have easily silenced them.
"I mean, should we just wait 'till he wakes up?"
"He's got a point Kaworu. He said he only wants our provisions." Shinji continued. A pang of guild pricks at him. He is aware they cannot simply let him die in the cold.
"We will simply explain our situation to him when he wakes." Kaworu answers.
The room is an upscale, lavish main bedroom. The walls are painted a velvet red, white bead-board stretches two feet up the walls. A bed with matching quilts sits in the middle of the wall, piled high with pillows. On the side farthest from the three, there is a mound of cans and boxes. Six heaters are alined in a ring beside the bed, the cords lead out the door to a generator. The windows stretch across the forward wall, the curtain completely covers them, not a single beam of light peaks through either side of the cloth.
The brunette suddenly stirs, murmuring something, he falls silent again.
"Kensuke...What exactly did you do to him?" Kaworu speaks, the air in the room is so separated, it is silent while no one is speaking.
"...Funny you should ask, I'm not really sure." He laughs. "I've, always been able to do this...This thing for at least as long as I can remember."
The others lean in, curious.
"I-I can get in to peoples heads, literally!"
"How does it work? I mean how do you do it?" Shinji asks.
"Hell I...Never really thought about it!" Kensuke started. "I know that when I got inside his head..." He gestured to their attacker. "I...I imagined a wall. It wasn't so much me imagining it but more... More it just appearing when I needed it. I bent it, with my mind. I saw it bend and stretch all the way to his head. When I reached it things got bright, like light had filled up the tunnel I made with this bent wall. Anyway when the light hit him, it felt like my body stretched through the tube to. When I got to him, I could hear his thoughts..."
Shinji's eyes widen, he's never heard of anything quite like Kensuke, it strikes him oddly. Like a curve-ball hitting the side of the catchers mitt at the fingers instead of in the center.
"If I close my eyes completely...I can actually see what they see. I can dig through their brains and figure out everything they know. I can plant thoughts in there head, I can have a silent conversation with them, or I can just listen."
"What about what you did to our attacker?"
"Well... The human brain only uses a small percent of it true capacity. You know when a though passes through your head and you can picture it? That's what I did, I just ran every thought I could think of through his head and blinded him with pictures." The blond explains. "I filled his head up with so much stuff it actually gave him a migraine. Then I just left him, I got rid of every though in him and cleared his head. For a split second the release he got from all that thinking must have felt so good it made him pass out."
The attacker stirs again, but again silences himself.
"Well... I think that..."
SMACK! Shinji is caught in the face by a foot, he rolls to his feet over his chair, the taste of mud is not appealing to him. Kensuke stands up and braces against the wall. The attacker kicks the heaters on their sides and charges Kaworu again.
"Thought y' did me in huh?" He shouts, grappling with the ashen-haired boy on the mattress. "Well I won't fall fer no trick like 'at a second time!"
An ear-splitting BOOM rings out, it deafens the occupants of the room. Kaworu finds himself no longer struggling as the weight slips off his body.
"SON. OF. A. BITCH!" The brunette exclaims. He clutches the back of his left thigh. A liquid as deep in color as the walls seeps through his fingers and drenches his clothes.
All eyes lock with Shinji. He stands prominently, a shiny tube of metal with a wooden grip as clasped in his hands, smoke lifting itself out of the barrel.
"You! You shot me!" Cries the brunette.
"Look... I don't know who you are, and based on what you said, I don't think we should trust you." Shinji starts in a low, dangerous tone. "Frankly, I don't think I should trust any of you. I don't even know you other than your names." He continues, the tension in the air is thick, Kensuke is to the point of shaking, Kaworu looks as he did earlier, eyes wider but not fully opened in concern.
"But we need to stick together, it's the only way we even have a chance of surviving."
"Why should I trust any of you?!" Shinji's victim shouts. "I don't trust any of you anyway! That's why I charged your asses!"
"It's that, or we all split up, wander off and die in the rain. Shinji's got a point." Kaworu adds, catching his breath. "So why don't we calm down and get to know each other?"
Shinji, Kensuke, and Kaworu are all given their own hard glares before a sigh is heard. Kaworu crawls across the bed to the mound of food boxes. He opens up a chest next to the bed, from it, he produces a clear plastic box with a red plus on it.
"I'll patch you up while you tell us a little about yourself." Kaworu says in his soft, soothing voice. It reminds the brunette of a lisp rather than a calming voice. Shinji slips the weapon into his waistband, hidden again from sight. He walks over the the downed man, offering his hand.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I don't like to hurt people."
"Well what in god's name would make you shoot someone?" The brunette whimpers.
Shinji doesn't answer. Kaworu traverses the bed, reaching the brute.
"Name's Touji, Touji Suzuhara." Touji mutters. "I have lots o' bad experiences with strangers. In fact, last time I met with strangers, I got shot." He casts another glance at Shinji.
"That sucks, you've really been shot before?" Kensuke asks, Touji shoots him his own look.
An hour passes before the quartet is aware of it. The sounds outside indicate the rain has slowed and softened. Bottles of water are procured by Kaworu, as the other three express that they have no hunger. In truth this is a lie, as they do not trust a stranger to feed them. The effects of the night etch themselves on the minds of the four, as sleep begins to take hold. Kaworu hides himself under the red covers of the bed. Kensuke takes a quilt and rests himself at the foot of the bed. Touji remains stubborn and attempts to remain in the world of the waking, but to no avail. Slumber claims victory as the sandman takes hold of another. His snores echoing through the room.
Shinji is the last awake, he is afraid of what will happen if he sleeps. He takes a sip of the water, letting the cold splash against his cheeks, letting the life-giving fluid shock him awake. Silence, aside from the brunette's snoring, is the ruler of the room.
A soft sob is heard. The raven looks up. There is no one but himself awake.
"I must be hearing things..."
He sighs, today was indeed not a normal day.