A/N: Let me begin by saying that this is the spiritual successor to the DeathEVA. I liked DE – I really did – but as I read through it after a one-month hiatus from writing, I realized it had serious problems with it. So, I ultimately decided to scrap it and use the experience on a brand-spanking-new idea.

Bloodstained Saints – 01

"Of all these words of mice and men, the saddest are, 'it might have been.'"
-a poet

walk with her/him: a phrase meaning 'to be attached to romantically.'
-2014 Oxford Dictionary

-

If Shinji Ikari was listening to his teacher, it did not show. He stared out of the window, absently, searching for some distant destiny that probably did not exist. His teacher rambled on about the horrors of the War. To him, and many of his generation, the War seemed like a long-ago, distant string of catastrophes that had no influence on their lives.

So, he let the teacher ramble as he stared out the window. The landscape outside was not cheery – long stretches of desolate nothing, choking Shinji's town with sheer emptiness. Shinji could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to be up in a helicopter over that Nothing – it would make you go mad, he was sure.

His obliviousness was suddenly broken by the gentle beep of his computer. He turned to it to find an extremely terse email from the Class Rep, scolding him for his obliviousness and ordering him back to his work. Sighing, Shinji did his best to listen, he really did – but, alas, his thoughts returned to the idea of Nothing.

-

As he sat in the cafeteria, he took the opportunity to really look at his classmates, and found that it was a symphony of sameness. The all wore the exact same uniform, all with the school's crest. Shinji searched into the recesses in his mind, trying to recall why he had been sent to this place, and found that he could not.

As he meditated on this fact, he heard the familiar shrill voice of the Class Rep from behind. "We need to talk," she said, with finality. Shinji sighed as she circled around to the opposite side of the table.

"I'm already talking to the school counselor," the boy said, softly. "What can you do that she can't?"

Hikari turned up her nose. "Hmph. Well, that's not what I wanted to talk about," she said, remaining tough. "I wanted to talk about something else."

There was a pause.

"Erm… what, exactly?" asked Shinji.

Hikari's I-am-your-superior veneer collapsed in a moment. She started blushing and managed to blurt out, "I want to take you out on a date."

Shinji stared at her. "Really?" he finally asked.

Hikari had suddenly become very uncomfortable. "Umm… how about tonight at ten?" she offered nervously. There was another pause, and she blushed a little more. "Nothing high-commitment, of course. Just dinner, maybe."

"Umm… ok," Shinji replied, turning a little pink in the face himself.

"Ok!" Hikari said. She was still pink in the face, but obviously pleased. "I'll meet you at the Yellow Diner."

-

Why did you break that window?

I wanted to.

What made you want to?

I looked up into the sky, and I saw something… I don't really remember what it was. I just know I needed to break something, or I would go crazy.

Therapy Session #44

-

Shinji began the slow walk home. It was cold outside, the fallout made sure of that. The trees refused to bear leaves or fruit, instead remaining barren and lifeless. He passed underneath one such tree and looked up into its branches. Through them, he saw the sun: a pallid, sickly glow in the grayish sky. Like most of his generation, he had never once seen the true glory of Sol with his own eyes.

As the sun past beneath a particular sullen streak of darkness, Shinji resumed his slow walk home. His uniform suddenly seemed cruel and oppressive; he wanted to get out of it at any cost. One step at a time, one slow, plodding step, he made it to his home. It was sometimes hard to notice, especially when he was deep in thought. It was one of the mass-produced houses made right after the War. It was white, two story, one garage. Each had precisely three bedrooms and two baths, with minimal decoration and maximum efficiency. It was on a row with houses all exactly like it, in a suburban zone with rows alike.

His guardians were silent, unfeeling people: they cared about their own flesh-and-blood children more than they did him. When he reached his home and walked in the door, his aunt was busy spoon feeding her six-month-old; the elder child, age two, was sitting on his father's lap in front of the TV. Shinji glanced this way and that, and neither even gave him a hello. Slowly, he made his way upstairs, and as he climbed the creaking wooden steps, he wondered about the hows and whys of human existence, and could find no answer.

-

He recalled his date with Hikari just in time. His guardians were completely apathetic to his coming and going – he headed out at ten at night, and they barely batted an eye. He walked down the darkened streets, lighted only by the odd working streetlamp and the almost undetectable light of the moon.

Shinji's walk was deliberately slow; he did not care if he was merely 'a bit' late. It seemed so infinitesimal when compared to the 18 billion years of the universe's existence that he could not bring himself to care. Once his long journey was over, he reached the Yellow Diner, a large, box-shaped building with yellow walls. Inside were kids on dates: it was the haunt for such minor trysts.

Shinji slowly approached the door, doubt clutching at his heart. What did Hikari think she was getting out of him, precisely?

As he approached the door, through the window he saw Hikari sitting alone. She was still wearing the pleated skirt and overcoat of the school uniform – Shinji absently wondered if girl's clothes were lighter than boy's. He silently pushed the door open and entered. Hikari's eyes immediately shifted to his, and her face lit up.

"I was beginning to fear that I'd been stood up," Hikari said, as Shinji sat down.

Shinji smiled absently and did not reply.

Hikari searched for some icebreaker when the waiter showed up. He was not the sort to pass judgment; he merely took their respective orders and left.

"You didn't order very much," observed Hikari, as the waiter walked off.

"I've never been very hungry."

"It's not very good for you," Hikari said.

There was a silence.

She suddenly turned pink and put her hands to her mouth. "I must sound like a total Nazi bitch," she said.

Shinji smiled at her. "No, it's ok… you're probably right."

She looked rueful. "I promised myself I would drop my Class-Rep persona tonight. I can't seem to do it."

Shinji shrugged. "If people just stopped acting everything would be easier."

Hikari cocked her head to one side. "That's profound. Did you think of that?"

"Yeah."

Their food arrived, and they ate in silence for a few moments. It was one of those rare moments when Shinji's thoughts were not drifting among the stars, but among the countless humans of the earth, sharing the same feeling that afflicts most at least once in their life: I am sitting in the presence of a viable mate.

"Shinji?"

"Are you all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno." Hikari looked out the window. "It seems like… you're supposed to be elsewhere."

Shinji waited for her to elaborate.

"I can't quite describe it," she said. "It's like… I want to understand you… but I can't."

The foods arrived. They both ate in silence

"Shinji…?"

"Yeah?"

"I enjoyed this," Hikari said, blushing again. "You know, I always get flustered at times like this."

Shinji did that the strange dreamy grin of his - This was something new – not necessarily good, but new. New things rarely entered his life. "I used to. I don't know why I stopped. I think it's cute, though."

She reddened even more. "Stop it! You're making it worse!" she giggled.

-

Shinji walked home, slowly. Hikari was such a sweet girl, he reflected – he wondered it would be like to walk with her. He'd be the envy of the school, the boy who finally managed to melt the evil, evil class rep's icy heart. He smiled at thought: Shinji Ikari, the new popular kid.

No one seemed to be out, this late. They never were, because everyone followed the same schedule with slight variations, except for the kids. As Shinji walked down the street, he heard footsteps, not his own. He turned around and saw nothing, only shadows split by occasional streetlights. Slowly, he turned around and continued on his way. As he walked, something seemed to change – the shadows, once amoral, suddenly turned sinister and evil. Those infernal footsteps… with each low noise, leering, catlike eyes seem to blossom in the darkness. Suddenly, there were red eyes everywhere, gazing out of darkness at him, watching his every step, like a chaos crawling through cracks in spacetime, seeping into his life and laying waste to all that it touched.

Shinji started running and immediately tripped over his own feet, sending him crashing to the ground. He felt pain; his hand split open, spilling blood on the ground. Dazed by the sudden pain, he started screaming, "Go away! Go away!"

In an instant, the hallucination was gone. A lone soldier stood in its place, wearing the gas mask and black armor that marked him as a Chemical Warfare Specialist. Shinji had a few seconds to process this fact before the nightstick crashed down on his head.