Most people love to remember their dreams, or at least try to continue them when rudely awoken. I usually don't dream, to be frank. Most of the time, I tend to forget what I dream upon waking up. So it didn't really bother me to slam my hand onto the alarm clock seated next to me, shutting it up.
Crap. Another weekend of leaving my phone's alarm on and ruining my sleep once again, another slow morning on the side. What else could go wrong, I wondered, the day hasn't even started yet.
From outside, I could hear the sounds of birds from chirping in their nests or huddled on telephone wires. Cicadas buzzed loudly, drowning out the birds, and just long enough to be heard over the gentle flow of what little traffic there presumably was. It was... unusually quiet for a Saturday. Typically the immigrant families from across the street would already be yakking it up, playing music or throwing a party of some kind for whatever reason. It was loud, but nothing worth calling the police over.
They barely came to the neighborhood anyway, given how peaceful it was. Peaceful was a nice word. Fitting for a bed, like mine - a bunk bed my twin and I shared. So soft, and cuddly; those memory foam mattresses were definitely worth the extra money, even if Dad protested it at first.
Once you lay down, you'll never want to get up.
...Wait... where's my phone?
Blinking the boogers out of my lashes, I shot up with a yelp as I pawed the left side of my…bed?
Hold on, this isn't a - a futon?! What happened to the bunk? Where's my brother?
I quickly turned to look at the rest of my surroundings. The room was a traditionally Japanese one, like the ones I read about whenever I was bored - hitting random on Wikipedia one night was more fun than I expected. Clean, neat, and more empty than I expected. It was bare bones, the only thing sticking out from the barren womb of a bedroom being a single cello. It stood there as if waiting for a spotlight to come from the heavens, destined to be played by someone worthy of its power.
I don't own a cello! I (used to) play piano and violin! Where am I? Did I take a vacation in Japan and forget? And where's the rest of the clan anyway?
Determined to find answers as to where I was and why, I bravely stepped forth from the futon and towards the sliding door (very neat!), to make my way through the rest of the house.
I'm in a house right?
With my hand stretched out to open the door, I flinched at the sight of it - paler than I remembered. Small and skinny, at least that was still there. I felt younger, honestly. Did I shrink overnight?
"...Why…" I bit my tongue at the sound of my own voice - more whiny and less nasally than mine - kinda girly in a way.
Did...did I wake up as a kid? Oh, Christ, did I time travel and not remember it? Oh, noooo, that's not good!
I broke out in a sweat; goosebumps began spreading all over my body - and not the books. My beating heart skyrocketed and threatened to leap out of its ivory cage and onto the immaculately clean floor; my chest rose and fell at a rapid pace.
No amount of movies and anime could save me from the weight I felt in my stomach and chest - I could do so much with this knowledge - stop terrorist attacks and shootings, prevent the election, win the lottery, invest in stocks, win bets, do better in school and not fail Math, warn Mom about what Dad would do!
Then it hit me. What if I did do all that? Would we still move upstate? Would we still be a family anymore? Would I still be in my high school? Who would be President? How many people would I save - and how many would die in their place? Would babies not even be born? Was it my fault? I simply couldn't let bad things happen, I, I, I -
Too much to think about - I, I, I, I need to find mom!
I slammed the door open and made a path for my parents' room, then ran inside.
Unlike before, it was occupied by a dresser, a shelf, a desk, and a window frame of a single note - it read:
I have left you all that he told me. You're on your own now by the time you find this. You've learned all I could teach you about living by yourself. If it means anything, you were like a son to me if that makes sense. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye, and I'm sorry for not talking to you more. Good luck, young one, and may your heart be your compass. God knows you need it more than anyone else.
Sensei.
This doesn't make sense! Who's Sensei? And why am I hearing it as English? This is in Kanji, how the hell do I know Japan -
Suddenly it all came together like a puzzle.
This wasn't their room. I wasn't on vacation. I was alone. Younger. Phoneless. In the past. Without my family...
I'm...a young Japanese kid? Wh - HOW? Last time I checked my family tree, we weren't exactly Asian!
The sounds of the cicadas roused me from my shock. We didn't have those in the States, just crickets. Right. A distraction. Good job brain, you've ignored trauma for me once again, ol' reliable, you!
I realized there was only one final way to prove my situation - the mirror test. With stones in my stomach and a void where my heart was, I walked to the other room in the hallway - the bathroom - and entered. The lights turned on at my presence - the glare was too bright so I covered my eyes with my elbow - they slowly adjusted in seconds, allowing me to get a good look at myself in the mirror.
Draped over my body was a large white t-shirt two sizes too big for me. Underneath was a pair of shorts, just the right size.
My hair cut was short - I had a brown - no, black(?) do - with bangs. My eyes were a lovely dark shade of blue. I had a round and boyish look to match. Very pretty to be honest, definitely getting pretty boy vibes myself. Good to know!
Nice. Still got those eyelashes~.
But...who was I again?
The bathroom door gave me an answer as it finally swung in to close itself - a small sign was hung up by a nail: shinji ikari's lovely bathroom. Below it was a calendar, an X over today's date - the row below had a check mark a seven days ahead.
My heart nearly died right then and there. "No…" I weakly muttered. And today's date was...a week before the Angel attacked. A week before Shinji came to NERV.
Oh, fuck.