Disclaimers:
Neon Genesis Evangelion and all related characters, concepts, etc., are
property of ADVision and Gainax. I only *wish* they were mine.
This story is copyright Kenneth Patterson, Two Thousand and Two A.D.
Contains no squid.
*Opening theme: R.E.M., "Strange Currencies"*
[In the beginning...]
Nothingness.
Pain.
Light.
Movement.
A command.
A sound.
More pain and movement.
Another's touch, warmth, presence.
And a return to nothingness.
[In the end...]
...and in that moment, they finally knew joy.
[And in between...]
* * *
Tilting At Windmills
Being an Account of the Relationship
between those known as the First and
Third Children
What might be called a Love Story, but
which will hopefully contain very
little in the way of WAFF
* * *
Part the First: Ships In The Night
* * *
If one were to ask her classmates to describe her, one might obtain a picture of Miss Rei
Ayanami that was neither clear nor complimentary. The more polite ones would likely beg off,
stating their reluctance to engage in gossip. The honest ones would say they really didn't know
her. A bold few might claim that she was "great in the sack," but those stories were rarely given
weight, considering their sources. The descriptions given by the rest would run the gamut from
"haughty" to "weird."
If one were to ask Miss Ayanami herself, one would be lucky to receive an acknowledgment of
one's presence, let alone an actual answer.
And that, really, was the crux of the problem.
No one actually knew anything about her, other than her status as an Evangelion pilot, and
the frequent absences she had as a result. And she had done nothing to rectify the situation, nor
even shown any particular sign of noticing her isolation.
This was the situation that confronted Shinji Ikari, Third Child, as he tried to gather
more information about his fellow pilot. Not even Misato had been able to answer his questions.
* * *
"Misato... about that girl?"
"Girl? Which one?"
"The other pilot. The one who was wounded."
"Rei? Why do you ask about her?"
"Well... I guess, since she's another pilot and all, I guess I'm going to be working with her a
lot. So I suppose I should get to know her. What do you know about her?"
"Damn, you know how to ask the tough ones."
"Eh?"
"Well, the problem is, here's the extent of what I, or just about anyone else knows. She was
selected to be a pilot when she was very young, and was put into training almost immediately. She
doesn't have any living parents, but... eh... your father seems to have been her guardian ever
since she became a part of the program." Even the buzz Misato was currently enjoying didn't
prevent her from noticing the tightening of Shinji's features at this news. She decided to move on,
rather than open old wounds. "She really doesn't talk very much... heck, not at all, unless it's
something that relates directly to her piloting duties. No one's really seen her smile or show any
emotion, not that I've heard of. The only ones who really might be able to tell you more are your
father and Ritsuko. She doesn't seem to like Rei for some reason, probably because she doesn't like
most people, and she has to deal with Rei a lot. So I guess neither one of them are good people to
ask. That help you any?"
"Uh... I guess so. Thanks."
"Well, you can show me your appreciation by fetching me another beer!"
* * *
As it turned out, no one else he talked to at NERV had anything to add to that. Shinji
found this decidedly odd. No one could possibly move through life leaving that little an
impression. Certainly not someone with a job as important as that of an Evangelion pilot. And
certainly not someone who was as decidedly strange and attention-drawing as the girl he had seen...
* * *
Windows, Shinji had read, were quite possibly the most crucial element in the aesthetic
side of architectural design. They allowed for inexpensive and naturally bright, broad-spectrum
light. They served to regulate the climate of the area they were situated in, as they could be used
to either trap air at a desired temperature and humidity, or to allow for the entrance of new air.
Most importantly, they diminished the feeling of isolation that was caused by being in an enclosed
area; they reminded one of the existence of the outside world, and provided an escape from the
drudgeries of whatever task confined one's self to the interior by providing a link to the open
sky, which to many people represented possibility and hope.
For some reason, though, Shinji found this bank of windows to be less than liberating.
Something about the light streaming in made the openness all the more oppressive. Perhaps it was
the simple fact that the light was not from a natural source. Here in the Geo-Front, there was no
sky, only an artifice in its image; man's attempts to replicate the power of nature coming up short
of the real thing. There was no freedom out the window, just the realization that your entire world
could be controlled by others. Thus, the soulless light, combined with the harshly clean smell of
disinfectant, sucked away at Shinji's motivation to do anything but vegetate and stand by the
window, observing the pattern of the treelines outside.
At first, he hadn't thought anything of the gurney being wheeled towards him; it was a
hospital, and such things were so natural that it wasn't necessary to pay them any heed.
Nevertheless, something possessed him to turn his attention away from the landscape, and look at
who was being transported.
The person on the bed (a girl, he supposed, from the slight swelling of the robe over the
chest) seemed to be almost a part of their surroundings. Unmoving, they could have been a part of
the gurney, and the pallor of their skin and hair, combined with the pale color of the robe, made
them all but disappear into the sterile, brightly lit hallway.
Curious, he continued to observe as the distance between them grew smaller. His earlier
guess was confirmed, as he could make out the finer details of her features and build, and he
suddenly realized that this was the girl in whose place he had piloted, the one he had held when
she had fallen.
This was Rei.
And then, right before she passed him... her eye opened, and turned to look in his
direction. The redness of the iris stood in stark contrast to both her complexion and her
environment, as if it were drawing in all the color around it and it was looking towards him at him
through him *into* him don't look don't look at me I'm afraid
And then the moment passed, and she was gone.
Afterwards, Shinji didn't know why he hadn't fled in panic.
* * *
"Ikari!"
Shinji was shocked out of his recollections by the strident yell. "Eh, what? What
happened?"
Standing in front of his desk was a girl with brown hair pulled back into twin ponytails.
Shinji was pretty sure he should have recognized who she was, but he hadn't found any reason to pay
much attention to anything in the school.
"You need to quit daydreaming, especially during class. When school's out, take these
printouts and deliver them to the addresses stapled to the front. Understand?"
"...yeah. I guess."
"Good."
* * *
After the teacher finally finished his soporific lecture, the students were let out to go
home. Shinji sat and watched his classmates leave, but no one seemed interested in talking to him.
Seeing no point in putting it off any further, Shinji removed the stack of papers he was to
deliver, and began to examine the list.
At the top, one name stood out, quite distinct in his vision.
AYANAMI.
* * *
"What the hell is this!?"
Shinji stood in front of a scene of pure urban decay, incredulous. He'd checked and
rechecked the address three times; this was the right place. But he swore no one would live here;
or could, for that matter. Least of all a fourteen-year-old girl.
To answer his question, 'it' was a dump that simply hadn't had the grace to collapse into a
heap.
* * *
With a hesitancy in his step, and no small amount of trepidation in his head, Shinji began
to ascend the flight of stairs that would take him to Rei's apartment. In his left hand, he
clutched a bundle of flowers. It had been an impulse purchase, really. He'd passed by a flower shop
on the way there, and had decided the best way to introduce himself to his fellow pilot would be to
give her a gift. Besides, she was injured, and the custom was to give flowers to injured people, so
he had a good reason to. Or an excuse, at any rate.
Finally, Shinji reached the fourth level, and found the second door.
402
AYANAMI, REI
Well, he'd come to the right place. But there was still little sign that anyone actually
lived here. Unchecked junk mail spilled from the jammed mail slit in the door, and the door itself
was filthy from the dust that blew in from the nearby construction sites. (Those being the ones
that created the dull monotonous clamor which only added to the desolation of the area.) The only
way Shinji could tell that the apartment was inhabited was from the fairly fresh scuff marks in the
dust below the door. Almost afraid to do so, he reached out and pressed the button on the intercom
by the door. The buzzer sounded, but there was no response that Shinji could hear. He tried again.
Still no response, but he could detect a faint rustling sound, so he decided to wait.
After a minute, though, the resolve that had brought him up the stairs began to waver. What
was he thinking, anyway? That he'd just walk up, give her the flowers, and all would be well? That
he'd really have the guts to look her in the eye again? He reminded himself of the times he had
tried to reach out to others, and been rejected. Of how anyone he had really been close to had left
him behind. And, second by second, his mind re-established the defenses that he had grown so
accustomed to.
Once it was clear again in his mind that it was best not to get involved, Shinji set the
assignments down in front of Rei's door, turned around, and descended the stairs. So rattled was
he, that he failed to realize that he had left the flowers sitting next to the stack of paper.
So, several minutes later, when a disheveled and bandaged Rei Ayanami opened the door, she
saw no one. Looking down, however, she found a collection of assignments with her name on the cover
page, and a bundle of white roses, with one red in the center. Picking up the flowers to examine
them, she found a card attached.
Get well soon!
-Shinji
Rei blinked.
"Oh."
* * *
*Closing theme: The Pillows, "Bran-New Lovesong"*
* * *
Author's Notes:
You know, I originally had a lot I wanted to say here. Rants about what I thought of most
Eva romance fanfics, characterization, etc. But then I realized that it's really all been said
before. So here's what I've got instead:
The setting for this chapter is between Episodes 2 & 3 in the anime, or Books 1 & 2 of the
Manga. Don't really know which continuity I'll end up using, and I may just bastardize the two,
anyway. I may have to change a couple minor details next time I get my hands on my DVDs.
This is my attempt to do as close as possible to full IC S/R, pre-3rd Impact. (Angels of
Armageddon having done an excellent job of IC post 3I.) Shinji needs a slight bit of spine to
actually make an effort to connect with Rei, but I'll try not to stretch it any further than that.
I can always claim manga characterization, anyway.
I'm trying to avoid having this fic slip into cliche, so it's a bit different from most
romance stories. This is not a story about holding hands, first dates, and heavy petting sessions
in dark corners. There will be no lemon side-story. Nor will there be any Shinji And Rei Sleeping
Together Without Having Sex(tm). If you're looking for waffy luv-luv, look elsewhere. If you're
looking for S/A... then why'd you read this far?
Hopefully, since I actually have a plan for where I'm going, this should have a bit more
momentum than Maternal Instinct did, and I'll actually get a second chapter out. If I do, then tune
in next time for "Find the River."
Comments, criticism, and even flames are all welcome. E-mail is Katfum@tmbg.org.
Pax domine vobiscum.
Neon Genesis Evangelion and all related characters, concepts, etc., are
property of ADVision and Gainax. I only *wish* they were mine.
This story is copyright Kenneth Patterson, Two Thousand and Two A.D.
Contains no squid.
*Opening theme: R.E.M., "Strange Currencies"*
[In the beginning...]
Nothingness.
Pain.
Light.
Movement.
A command.
A sound.
More pain and movement.
Another's touch, warmth, presence.
And a return to nothingness.
[In the end...]
...and in that moment, they finally knew joy.
[And in between...]
* * *
Tilting At Windmills
Being an Account of the Relationship
between those known as the First and
Third Children
What might be called a Love Story, but
which will hopefully contain very
little in the way of WAFF
* * *
Part the First: Ships In The Night
* * *
If one were to ask her classmates to describe her, one might obtain a picture of Miss Rei
Ayanami that was neither clear nor complimentary. The more polite ones would likely beg off,
stating their reluctance to engage in gossip. The honest ones would say they really didn't know
her. A bold few might claim that she was "great in the sack," but those stories were rarely given
weight, considering their sources. The descriptions given by the rest would run the gamut from
"haughty" to "weird."
If one were to ask Miss Ayanami herself, one would be lucky to receive an acknowledgment of
one's presence, let alone an actual answer.
And that, really, was the crux of the problem.
No one actually knew anything about her, other than her status as an Evangelion pilot, and
the frequent absences she had as a result. And she had done nothing to rectify the situation, nor
even shown any particular sign of noticing her isolation.
This was the situation that confronted Shinji Ikari, Third Child, as he tried to gather
more information about his fellow pilot. Not even Misato had been able to answer his questions.
* * *
"Misato... about that girl?"
"Girl? Which one?"
"The other pilot. The one who was wounded."
"Rei? Why do you ask about her?"
"Well... I guess, since she's another pilot and all, I guess I'm going to be working with her a
lot. So I suppose I should get to know her. What do you know about her?"
"Damn, you know how to ask the tough ones."
"Eh?"
"Well, the problem is, here's the extent of what I, or just about anyone else knows. She was
selected to be a pilot when she was very young, and was put into training almost immediately. She
doesn't have any living parents, but... eh... your father seems to have been her guardian ever
since she became a part of the program." Even the buzz Misato was currently enjoying didn't
prevent her from noticing the tightening of Shinji's features at this news. She decided to move on,
rather than open old wounds. "She really doesn't talk very much... heck, not at all, unless it's
something that relates directly to her piloting duties. No one's really seen her smile or show any
emotion, not that I've heard of. The only ones who really might be able to tell you more are your
father and Ritsuko. She doesn't seem to like Rei for some reason, probably because she doesn't like
most people, and she has to deal with Rei a lot. So I guess neither one of them are good people to
ask. That help you any?"
"Uh... I guess so. Thanks."
"Well, you can show me your appreciation by fetching me another beer!"
* * *
As it turned out, no one else he talked to at NERV had anything to add to that. Shinji
found this decidedly odd. No one could possibly move through life leaving that little an
impression. Certainly not someone with a job as important as that of an Evangelion pilot. And
certainly not someone who was as decidedly strange and attention-drawing as the girl he had seen...
* * *
Windows, Shinji had read, were quite possibly the most crucial element in the aesthetic
side of architectural design. They allowed for inexpensive and naturally bright, broad-spectrum
light. They served to regulate the climate of the area they were situated in, as they could be used
to either trap air at a desired temperature and humidity, or to allow for the entrance of new air.
Most importantly, they diminished the feeling of isolation that was caused by being in an enclosed
area; they reminded one of the existence of the outside world, and provided an escape from the
drudgeries of whatever task confined one's self to the interior by providing a link to the open
sky, which to many people represented possibility and hope.
For some reason, though, Shinji found this bank of windows to be less than liberating.
Something about the light streaming in made the openness all the more oppressive. Perhaps it was
the simple fact that the light was not from a natural source. Here in the Geo-Front, there was no
sky, only an artifice in its image; man's attempts to replicate the power of nature coming up short
of the real thing. There was no freedom out the window, just the realization that your entire world
could be controlled by others. Thus, the soulless light, combined with the harshly clean smell of
disinfectant, sucked away at Shinji's motivation to do anything but vegetate and stand by the
window, observing the pattern of the treelines outside.
At first, he hadn't thought anything of the gurney being wheeled towards him; it was a
hospital, and such things were so natural that it wasn't necessary to pay them any heed.
Nevertheless, something possessed him to turn his attention away from the landscape, and look at
who was being transported.
The person on the bed (a girl, he supposed, from the slight swelling of the robe over the
chest) seemed to be almost a part of their surroundings. Unmoving, they could have been a part of
the gurney, and the pallor of their skin and hair, combined with the pale color of the robe, made
them all but disappear into the sterile, brightly lit hallway.
Curious, he continued to observe as the distance between them grew smaller. His earlier
guess was confirmed, as he could make out the finer details of her features and build, and he
suddenly realized that this was the girl in whose place he had piloted, the one he had held when
she had fallen.
This was Rei.
And then, right before she passed him... her eye opened, and turned to look in his
direction. The redness of the iris stood in stark contrast to both her complexion and her
environment, as if it were drawing in all the color around it and it was looking towards him at him
through him *into* him don't look don't look at me I'm afraid
And then the moment passed, and she was gone.
Afterwards, Shinji didn't know why he hadn't fled in panic.
* * *
"Ikari!"
Shinji was shocked out of his recollections by the strident yell. "Eh, what? What
happened?"
Standing in front of his desk was a girl with brown hair pulled back into twin ponytails.
Shinji was pretty sure he should have recognized who she was, but he hadn't found any reason to pay
much attention to anything in the school.
"You need to quit daydreaming, especially during class. When school's out, take these
printouts and deliver them to the addresses stapled to the front. Understand?"
"...yeah. I guess."
"Good."
* * *
After the teacher finally finished his soporific lecture, the students were let out to go
home. Shinji sat and watched his classmates leave, but no one seemed interested in talking to him.
Seeing no point in putting it off any further, Shinji removed the stack of papers he was to
deliver, and began to examine the list.
At the top, one name stood out, quite distinct in his vision.
AYANAMI.
* * *
"What the hell is this!?"
Shinji stood in front of a scene of pure urban decay, incredulous. He'd checked and
rechecked the address three times; this was the right place. But he swore no one would live here;
or could, for that matter. Least of all a fourteen-year-old girl.
To answer his question, 'it' was a dump that simply hadn't had the grace to collapse into a
heap.
* * *
With a hesitancy in his step, and no small amount of trepidation in his head, Shinji began
to ascend the flight of stairs that would take him to Rei's apartment. In his left hand, he
clutched a bundle of flowers. It had been an impulse purchase, really. He'd passed by a flower shop
on the way there, and had decided the best way to introduce himself to his fellow pilot would be to
give her a gift. Besides, she was injured, and the custom was to give flowers to injured people, so
he had a good reason to. Or an excuse, at any rate.
Finally, Shinji reached the fourth level, and found the second door.
402
AYANAMI, REI
Well, he'd come to the right place. But there was still little sign that anyone actually
lived here. Unchecked junk mail spilled from the jammed mail slit in the door, and the door itself
was filthy from the dust that blew in from the nearby construction sites. (Those being the ones
that created the dull monotonous clamor which only added to the desolation of the area.) The only
way Shinji could tell that the apartment was inhabited was from the fairly fresh scuff marks in the
dust below the door. Almost afraid to do so, he reached out and pressed the button on the intercom
by the door. The buzzer sounded, but there was no response that Shinji could hear. He tried again.
Still no response, but he could detect a faint rustling sound, so he decided to wait.
After a minute, though, the resolve that had brought him up the stairs began to waver. What
was he thinking, anyway? That he'd just walk up, give her the flowers, and all would be well? That
he'd really have the guts to look her in the eye again? He reminded himself of the times he had
tried to reach out to others, and been rejected. Of how anyone he had really been close to had left
him behind. And, second by second, his mind re-established the defenses that he had grown so
accustomed to.
Once it was clear again in his mind that it was best not to get involved, Shinji set the
assignments down in front of Rei's door, turned around, and descended the stairs. So rattled was
he, that he failed to realize that he had left the flowers sitting next to the stack of paper.
So, several minutes later, when a disheveled and bandaged Rei Ayanami opened the door, she
saw no one. Looking down, however, she found a collection of assignments with her name on the cover
page, and a bundle of white roses, with one red in the center. Picking up the flowers to examine
them, she found a card attached.
Get well soon!
-Shinji
Rei blinked.
"Oh."
* * *
*Closing theme: The Pillows, "Bran-New Lovesong"*
* * *
Author's Notes:
You know, I originally had a lot I wanted to say here. Rants about what I thought of most
Eva romance fanfics, characterization, etc. But then I realized that it's really all been said
before. So here's what I've got instead:
The setting for this chapter is between Episodes 2 & 3 in the anime, or Books 1 & 2 of the
Manga. Don't really know which continuity I'll end up using, and I may just bastardize the two,
anyway. I may have to change a couple minor details next time I get my hands on my DVDs.
This is my attempt to do as close as possible to full IC S/R, pre-3rd Impact. (Angels of
Armageddon having done an excellent job of IC post 3I.) Shinji needs a slight bit of spine to
actually make an effort to connect with Rei, but I'll try not to stretch it any further than that.
I can always claim manga characterization, anyway.
I'm trying to avoid having this fic slip into cliche, so it's a bit different from most
romance stories. This is not a story about holding hands, first dates, and heavy petting sessions
in dark corners. There will be no lemon side-story. Nor will there be any Shinji And Rei Sleeping
Together Without Having Sex(tm). If you're looking for waffy luv-luv, look elsewhere. If you're
looking for S/A... then why'd you read this far?
Hopefully, since I actually have a plan for where I'm going, this should have a bit more
momentum than Maternal Instinct did, and I'll actually get a second chapter out. If I do, then tune
in next time for "Find the River."
Comments, criticism, and even flames are all welcome. E-mail is Katfum@tmbg.org.
Pax domine vobiscum.