Infinity's Prelude
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Midday. I always feel my lowest at noon-time. I do not know why I seem to feel more energized at night, or why the moon affects me the way it does, I only know my own experiences. When I was young, I talked with the Commander about many things, as children often do. That is probably why he used me so readily against Naoko. I have regained some of those fractured memories, but now I do not speak of them. I no longer speak of many things, especially with the Commander.
I shake my head in confusion. Perhaps it is just the usual midday blah, but things seem fuzzier than usual.
"Rei."
The class representative is standing there, her usual aura of command contaminated by uneasiness. I do not know why everybody I meet has such a strange and unique reaction to me. With each person it is different, and it is what keeps me separated. Shinji is the only one apart from the Commander who treats me like a normal person.
"Sorry," she is obviously agitated. "I didn't mean to startle you." She is backing away, and I resign myself to the usual abrupt departure and loneliness. She stops, and I am surprised and a little heartened to see her straighten, take a deep breath, and walk forward.
"What are you looking at?" she asks, coming up beside me.
"Nothing," I answer truthfully. "I'm just tired." After a long pause, she speaks again, her voice a bit nervous, probably at the usual tendency I see all around me, where people become uncomfortable whenever they are with another, and there is an extended silence.
"I've noticed you talking to Shinji more these days." She faces me when she talks, her expression similar to one facing a fear and meeting it head on. While it feels good to talk with someone, that little reaction always turns things, making it sour. At this point I don't care. I'm tired, and happy for the company. "Well," she laughs, "more like, I see him talking to you more." That laugh is the first time since she arrived where she sounded natural, and it lifts my mood. The last time someone talked to me naturally was when I met Shinji yesterday during lunch.
"Yes," I agree, when the line of conversation seems to die. She is already putting so much energy into being in my presence, to keep up a conversation is perhaps too much. However, I do not know what to say about the relationship I share with the boy we are talking about. He is fellow pilot, classmate, and recently, friend. I no longer know precisely how to act around him, but he doesn't seem to mind. When we are together, I simply take in what experiences come my way, and so far he has given me too many to count.
How can I say all this and more in just a few sentences? Before I can even begin to try, she has switched topics, seemingly at random.
"You know, you're really, really cute," she is using her hands as she speaks, "a few of the other girls have told me this, before." She is suddenly embarrassed, probably because she just admitted that she and others talk about me behind my back. I don't know how to reassure her that I am not offended, I don't know what to say, so I try to smile a little, even if it's just as a gesture. She appears to calm down, though I think it may be simply because I didn't ignore her or walk away in embarrassment or anger. She closes her eyes and waves her hands in front of her, almost a jerking motion, as if building up the nerve to do or ask something.
"Rei." She opens her eyes, more calm and sure of herself. "Let's go to the mall tomorrow." She has crossed the distance and is holding my hand, as if she means to drag me bodily right this minute. The invitation is like a beacon of light, a ray of sunshine on land cold from the darkness.
"Alright," I answer. "Tomorrow," I repeat, just to make sure she does not intend to take me by force now.
"Really?" She lets go, her expression one of complete surprise. It's not like I have specifically avoided other students and their activities, it has simply been a very long time since I have been invited anywhere. The single exception to this was my one outing with Shinji, but that was something else altogether.
"Great!" She backs up carefully, as if afraid to disturb anything for fear of it falling apart on her. "I know where your apartment is," she says, feeling for the door frame. "I'll be there at eleven!" She escapes before I can say anything in response.
I have never been asked why I do not keep a journal, like many of the girls in class 2-A do. Had I been asked that question, my answer would be simple. My life can be summarized based on the day of the week, and occasionally, the day of the month. Perhaps it is sad to an outside point of view, but it is the truth, and I am comfortable with it.
The rest of the day passes as it usually does. During lunch, Shinji is not present. He is undoubtedly out with the other stooges, gathering trouble. Hikari is also noticeably absent from the usual lunch haunts. She is quite probably out gathering the stooges.
There is no NERV work scheduled for today, so I go home and lie in my bed, thinking on the day's happenings. Today was an unusual day, and tomorrow will likely prove to be even further outside the norm.
Perhaps I will need a journal after today.
I awake as usual, and prepare breakfast. It is classical Japanese cuisine, complete with Miso, rice, deep-fried tofu, tea, and several other items, but I find myself tiring of it. Soon it will be time to change my selections, as I often must do. It is all cooked perfectly according to recipe, and yet it is nothing compared to the things Shinji makes for me. I know many more recipes than he, and yet what he brings me is subtly different each time, depending on his mood and his tastes at that moment.
I am very good at following directions, but I cannot improvise as he does, and it irks me, whenever I eat what he has prepared. After the meal, that is. During the meal I can do nothing but enjoy the sensations it makes on my tongue as I try to discern what subtle changes he has made to a normally bland recipe.
My usual routine is useless. I had to custom-build one last night, since there is an addition to my normally unchanging schedule. Knowing the exact time I need to be ready allowed me to construct it precisely, especially knowing how punctual the class representative is.
True to assumptions, I have just cleaned up and straightened the last folds of my school uniform when the door buzzer sounds. I walk over and answer it. She stands there wearing a shirt and a pair of shorts that are quite modest, and her hair is done in a single pony-tail rather than her usual two.
"I'm ready," I say. She looks at me, a quick once-over. It is obvious she judges my school uniform to be wanting, but she quickly clears this from her expression, and smiles warmly.
"Let's go, then." She threads her arm through mine, and as we walk to the train station she puts forth much energy in trying to make us look like good friends who are having a great time. I smile and nod where it looks like I should, and try to understand her train of conversation. At places I am able to contribute, which seems to please her to no end, even though I am uncomfortable.
Entry to the train seems to signify a milestone, as if it is no longer necessary for her to put up such a front. Perhaps it was an experiment, just to assure herself that it is possible to talk with me that way, and have a normal conversation.
"I'm telling you, Rei," she says in a more normal tone, "you're going to love the mall. I can't believe you've never been!" This is nice. She is acting more natural, and it feels the same as when I am with Shinji. "There's a ton of stuff to do, first I want to go look at some clothes, then I have something I really think will look good on you." Her sincerity is so magnetic it is pulling me in directions I have always shied away from on my own.
"I'm looking forward to it," I say truthfully. It is not often that I can look forward to something.
"That's great," she says, squeezing my hand. After a more relaxing ride in which she slowly opens up more of herself to me, I am truly looking forward to the day. We exit the train, and she is alive with the need to show me things, and I am almost as alive with anticipation. Then she freezes completely, closing down as quickly as she opened.
She has turned into a completely different person, and I don't know why. I look around in confusion, wondering what has happened. Soon my eyes alight on what I know to be the cause of her sudden transformation. Pilot Soryu is standing there, not a dozen meters away, her expression unreadable. She is looking at Hikari, and Hikari is looking at her. The girl who had not five minutes ago been my exuberant tour guide has fallen from the position of alpha-female. She cannot act that part around Asuka, because that is not how they know each other.
Visions of a beautifully complex day wither and die before my eyes, for I have been cast adrift now that I have lost my tour guide. I look around, and the colors, the flashing lights, the multitude of unknown and unknowable people, it makes my head spin. How was I even walking along five minutes ago? I bump into Hikari, having unconsciously moved closer to her.
She seems to comprehend my problem, and regains some of her previous aura, even if it is only a shadow of what it was. It is enough for me to catch my breath, to look at her thankfully.
"Asuka," she says. It is not a reproach, but it is not quite a greeting either, and my fellow pilot knows this. She also sees that there is no give in Hikari's disposition. There can be none, if I am to get out of this with my foundations intact. It pains me to think that only minutes before I was looking forward to a day full of unique experiences, and now I just want to get back to my apartment without offending or angering anybody. Then something completely unexpected happens.
"Hikari." Asuka is approaching, obviously giving up her position as the dominant in order to be with her friend. It is enough to make me stop breathing for a few heartbeats. For my brash confident fellow-pilot to supplicate herself in this way, it is beyond anything in my experience. I look at her in a new light, and she sees this. Anger clouds her features for a moment, and she blinks. A very slow blink, she is holding her eyes shut as she struggles inwardly, then the anger slowly drains away. Finally she opens her eyes, as if seeing for the first time. She smiles, a smile I have never seen.
"Where are you two going?" she asks. I can sense that Hikari is almost as stunned as I am, but she recovers quickly.
"The mall," she answers with some enthusiasm. Her confidence is returning, and I am slowly beginning to relax. "Want to come along?" My initial instincts scream at me, and I want to let Hikari know that this is a bad move, but I don't know how. This is a good thing, because my initial instincts are wrong, at least I come to this conclusion after a moment's thought. I don't know why, but a part of me wants to see more of this side of my fellow pilot, even while the rest of me wants to turn and stalk off. Hikari sees my initial reaction, and the later acceptance, and takes this as full license to continue. "Come on!" she says, taking Asuka's arm, and we continue onward.
The two quickly find a rhythm, and I cautiously allow myself to be brought into this nascent formation. It is new for all of us, and I think that is the only reason it works. We all want to see something out of this, so we are all invested, each for our own reasons. Hikari-the-class-representative-who-is-strengthening-a-bond-with-a-fellow-classmate is meeting Hikari-Asuka's-friend, and it is something new, fraught with danger and the possibility of an interesting experience. The two sides of her are two reagents which come together to form the glue that brings me and my fellow pilot together, not as fellow pilots, but as two people. We would never have come together otherwise, this I know.
Hikari leads the way, Asuka and I are along for the ride. She would like to be ahead of me in the pecking order, but there is no pecking order, Hikari has seen to that. This is something fragile, and precious to me. If you break it, I'll be hurt. That is what she has expressed to her friend, without saying a word. I recognize this, because Shinji and I often express things to each other in a similar way.
Asuka has accepted this, which is amazing to me. I am forced to accept it too, and for the first time I see her as an equal, and she is forced to do the same. Then she blinks, and within herself truly chooses to see me as an equal. Even if it only lasts as long as this day, I see it there, and it brings up deep emotions I do not understand. I know that blink and that look will live in my memory for the rest of my life.
We go to a department store, and I find the experience truly unique. I cannot even compare or contrast it with any previous outing, because my own mindset is so different. This new creation, this group of three that Hikari has molded, it allows me to function around Asuka free of any fear, of any judging, of any competition for who is the best.
She is feeling her way, as am I, and we both are growing accustomed to it. I see her, a true part of her, and I am able to uncover a part of myself I usually do not show to anyone else. I can see the interest in her eyes. She has never before seen anything like this from me, even if it is only a nascent bud compared to the full bloom that a normal girl my age would have.
Our time together is a flurry of activity that I cannot remember in detail. We try on outfits, and model for each other. We try on accessories, and I slowly learn a few fashion principles through osmosis and from watching my two friends. It stuns me that I am thinking of them as friends. For over a month my only friend has been Shinji, and I was just happy I had found one other soul who accepted me. After too short a time, we come to the end of this new adventure, though I was not fully aware of it even when Hikari's phone first chirped.
The day has been like a year full of change, and each season has had its own unique taste and experiences. First was Hikari, and how she managed to invite me to a place I would normally never go. Then Asuka joined, and I thought it would all be over. I was wrong, and I can honestly say that her joining the group added to my day things I never would have gotten with just Hikari and I by ourselves. Even so, when Hikari looks at the two of us with sorrowful and pleading eyes, the bottom once again drops out of my world. Change is once again upon it, and this time I am sure that, despite two previous 'good' changes, this new one will not work out so well. A part of me calls for a little faith, but I find it hard to believe that part.
"I have to go take care of my sister," she says, "she just threw up." She looks yearningly back and forth. "Please tell me the two of you will be okay..." Almost, Asuka comes unglued. Almost, she snaps, and I can feel the walls beginning to go up. I prepare to escape from this place. If anyone questions me, I can show them my NERV ID and get respect and a helping hand. Then I feel a touch of deep emotion, a connection that I did not expect to happen ever again. Asuka looks at me, then at Hikari.
"Go on," she says softly, "we'll be fine." Hikari look at me, and I slowly nod, trusting this new feeling that I do not even begin to understand.
"Alright," she says, looking hesitantly back and forth between the two of us. "Alright." She is more confident now. "See ya!" She waves, turns, and jogs away. Asuka glances at me, and I return her gaze. My lifeline is gone, but now it doesn't seem to matter. I will not turn my back on this new feeling. If it dies, it will not be by my hand. I will hold myself open to her, even if I do get hurt. Perhaps this is what does it in the end, how I stand there, open and shivering, willing to continue as we have been, even though the buffer, the one who brought us together, is gone.
"Come on," she says, threading her arm through mine and leading me towards a different section of the department store. The feeling is almost completely different. She is my new guide, and while similar touches are there, this is a far different feeling than my bond with Hikari. It is the difference between holding a thin piece of electronics wire running between two batteries, versus a live wire running from a sub-station to a transformer. All that power is there, energy that can destroy, held in check by insulation put in place specifically for my benefit. She sees my thought processes, or a part of them, and I know the cautious look in her eyes.
You've seen a part of me I don't show to anyone else. If you hurt me, there's nothing I can do to stop this from blowing up for good.
Part of me wishes to drop everything, to run, and to let it all explode. I would hide until it was all over, and our professional masks would protect us while on the job. But any hope for further bonds would be gone, irrevocably destroyed. The other part of me, the part that wants desperately for this to work, the part that wants to reach out, I show this part to her, and try to hide that other part. The moment ends, and it is now almost the same as it was with Hikari, though my new guide offers me access to a far greater power reserve. I slowly begin to use it, now that it is safe. Asuka takes me to a place I have never frequented
"I think this is what she was so excited about," she says, indicating the make-up store. "She's my friend," Asuka says slowly, "and I like her, but she wouldn't have known exactly what to do with your skin tone. Come with me." We go to a seemingly random aisle, though I trust Asuka. "We'll start with a good foundation," she says. "For you, we'll have to layer it." She is eager, as if the challenge is great, and the rewards will be commensurate. I am actually beginning to look forwards to whatever she is seeing, with the same enthusiasm I had at the beginning of the trip when I was alone with Hikari.
"Normally they would tell you to go with two layers, but I think you'll need three. The problem is, your skin tone is so pale, if you asked almost anybody else, they'd say it wouldn't work. But I'm not anybody else." She smiles as she works, gently cleaning my face. "You're lucky this store has the widest variety I've seen, because we'll have to start with a base shade even lighter than your skin right now, but only just so.
She selects the one, takes some on her finger, and touches my cheek, up where the bone is. I want to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation, but I must see how she does it. She carefully rubs it in, until it is invisible. I cannot see where it is, and it is difficult to feel it. Over the course of five minutes, she does both cheeks.
"Next we'll have to choose one that's almost the same tone as your skin." She does so, carefully comparing, and when she makes her selection, she puts it on over what she did before. It's difficult to tell exactly what the change is, but my face seems to have more life, to shine almost. "Now, she says, looking admiringly at her work, "for the finishing touch." Her hand almost immediately alights on the chosen color. "It can't be too dark," she says as she works it into my face, "or it would contrast with the rest of you." Her touch is light, almost ticklish as she moves around my cheeks. "Perfect," she whispers, "virtuos..." she stands back for a moment, looking for anything out of place. I look in the mirror, and don't know what to say. The closest analog is to say that my face has the barest hint of a flush, as if I has been running, as I often do to stay in shape. It brings life to my usually pale complexion.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Ach was!" she exclaims, guiding me away from this particular section of the make-up store. "We've only just started. Don't touch!" she grabs my hand before I can fully raise it. "Give it a few minutes, then you can do whatever you want. That's the newest stuff," she explains. "It won't come off unless you use a special cleansing agent. Even water won't affect it!" We come to a stop before another aisle.
"If you think what we just did worked wonders, I've got something here that will really warm up your complexion. We've got to be careful though, as pale as your skin is, even the lightest shade would make your face look dirty. We'll have to use a face powder that's one shade darker than your skin tone, which is no small feat. But like I said, this store is loaded, so it shouldn't be a problem." As she talks, she has already taken a brush and started to work. I have to struggle to take in everything she's doing, and it's hard, because more than ever I just want to close my eyes and get lost in the sensations. "Just dust along your nose and forehead to get a hint of a darker tone on your face, so it doesn't look strange later. Now..." she steps away, as if afraid to do anything more for fear of breaking what she's already done. "The hardest part. Follow me. And for Gottsake don't sneeze, at least for a few minutes while it settles in." She turns to go, and I follow.
"You've got to be really careful here," she says, running her fingers over the selection before finally choosing one. She twists it, revealing a light pink applicant of some kind, and very carefully touches my lower lip. This time I cannot keep my eyes open. I hold myself perfectly still, not wanting to disturb what I am feeling. "Watch me," she says firmly. I force my eyes open as she repeats her actions with my upper lip.. "Watch what I do here, it's very delicate. If you don't do this right, none of it will work."
She picks up what looks like a light pink pencil and carefully traces near the edges of my lips. "Just put a little of this on," she indicates the proper tube as she puts it down, "not too much. Then smooth it out with this." She pulls the pencil away, touching my lips softly with a cloth, then making a few last touches with the pencil. "Hold perfectly still," she instructs. She squeezes something from a small tube onto her fingers and very carefully touches my lips. It doesn't even look like she's breathing as she works.
Fifteen seconds later she lets out a breath. "You want to dilute the color with this lip balm," she explains, "so it looks natural. Otherwise it'll be too harsh, like it's painted on. Don't move." She runs a brush through a pink shade of powder, and carefully touches my lips. "You want to put just a little face powder over what we just did. It'll soak up the excess moisture, so it doesn't smear while you're letting it settle in. It's got to be the right color," she warns.
"The last thing you have to do is put a really soft shade of peach lipstick on over the powder," she says, carefully spreading the color with a very small brush. For a few moments it feels like there is lubricant on my lips, and I am afraid to even speak. Then the sensation fades, and I don't feel any different than normal. Perhaps there is a bit of something, like a buffer again the wind. It is as if my face is protected by a thin film, but it does not feel uncomfortable or unnatural. "Good," she breathes out. "That's good. It's okay now."
"Gott," she puts a hand to her head. "I don't know why I'm even helping you like this." The hand trembles slightly, then makes a smoothing motion, as if she were brushing her fingers through her hair. The little hidden smile is there. I've seen another part of her, similar to several she has seen of me. Each of us now holds enough pieces of high-explosive emotional baggage to destroy the other several times over by now. This is what bonds us. Not in a hostage way, more in a kind of understanding. We each see a part of ourselves in the other.
"You look beautiful, Rei," she says, shaking her head and staring at me. I think it is the first time she has used my given name in a warm way. It does not matter whether that is so. To me, it is the first. "No one would even know you're wearing make-up at all, unless you look really close." She stares at me for a few seconds more, finally shaking herself, as if awakening. "Here," she presses the bag with all the make-up items into my hands. "Look, I'm not running out on you," she says, her expression sincere, hoping I'll understand. "I had a few things I had planned to do today." I nod, simply grateful for what we have shared. "You watched what I did, right? You were in front of a mirror the whole time, and I know you're good at memorizing..." I nod.
"I will remember," I say, just to reassure her. She chuckles, shaking her head.
"Gott. If you really do make yourself look like that every day, I'm going to have to step up or get left behind." This time I know, I can feel, it's not one-upmanship, it's not competitiveness. It's friendly rivalry. Before today, I would not have been able to tell the difference.
"I'll see you," she says, searching for words, "when I see you." I nod. Neither of us know properly how to go about this, and that's okay. We'll learn. She turns to go, her movements full of the state and grace I know and expect from her. As I walk, my steps slow with thought, I too slowly fall back into my shell. I am going back to my abode. My apartment, which seems so much smaller now that the number of people I can call friends has tripled.
As I walk, deep and strong emotions race through me, changing, morphing, mixing together. Some I know, others I cannot identify. I may not comprehend fully what has happened today, but I know it was something big. Nothing will be the same after today.