-Chapter 11-
I arrived mid-morning, three days after the last Angel attack, to find Shinji fighting in his sleep. His face bore a look of pain as he struggled against the thin white sheets that stuck to his sweaty body, holding his bony limbs at his side. His breaths were ragged and sounded like that of a progressive knife slicing through an Angel's core. They were high pitched, rapid, and disturbing. I approached Shinji cautiously and, though unsure what I was doing, laid my hand upon his burning forehead and pressed down reassuringly. He fought a few more minutes and then began to slow his movements. I kept my hand upon his forehead for a full minute after he had slipped back to sleep.
"Mother," he whispered. "Mother."
Mother?
I drew back my hand and looked at it. My hand appeared as it had always been; it was not the hand of a mother. Was it?
I sat down on the chair near Shinji's bed.
What is Mother? Was Mother the "Lilth" I once overheard Commander speak of to Sub-commander? The giant figure that Commander ordered the lance to be embedded into. The white figure that awaited to be reawaked from death.
Shinji-kun turned over in his sleep, facing toward me. His face seemed somehow younger there in the dark. His face was relaxed, and the faintest of smiles could be see at the corners of his mouth.
"So the worst of it is over now, Shinji-kun?"
Shinji-kun slept quietly, his breathing slow and steady. He gave no answer except for the slightest of smiles and a strange sensation in my hand.
I arrived mid-morning, three days after the last Angel attack, to find Shinji fighting in his sleep. His face bore a look of pain as he struggled against the thin white sheets that stuck to his sweaty body, holding his bony limbs at his side. His breaths were ragged and sounded like that of a progressive knife slicing through an Angel's core. They were high pitched, rapid, and disturbing. I approached Shinji cautiously and, though unsure what I was doing, laid my hand upon his burning forehead and pressed down reassuringly. He fought a few more minutes and then began to slow his movements. I kept my hand upon his forehead for a full minute after he had slipped back to sleep.
"Mother," he whispered. "Mother."
Mother?
I drew back my hand and looked at it. My hand appeared as it had always been; it was not the hand of a mother. Was it?
I sat down on the chair near Shinji's bed.
What is Mother? Was Mother the "Lilth" I once overheard Commander speak of to Sub-commander? The giant figure that Commander ordered the lance to be embedded into. The white figure that awaited to be reawaked from death.
Shinji-kun turned over in his sleep, facing toward me. His face seemed somehow younger there in the dark. His face was relaxed, and the faintest of smiles could be see at the corners of his mouth.
"So the worst of it is over now, Shinji-kun?"
Shinji-kun slept quietly, his breathing slow and steady. He gave no answer except for the slightest of smiles and a strange sensation in my hand.