Over ten years had passed since he'd been here.
It had never been somewhere Shinji liked to be before, for he was never allowed to be alone. During the earlier years of his life the teacher had always accompanied him, making shifty gestures that clearly showed that he was uncomfortable. Throughout the years at Nerv he had visited his mother's grave every now and then—with his father. The thought of his father sent a surge of both annoyance and regret down his spine. Shinji pushed those thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the few happy times of his childhood.
As brilliant a scientist as Yui Ikari had been, she had loved wildlife and nature as well. He had seen pictures of her hiking up mountains with his father before they were married. When he was old enough to understand, Yui had often taken him into the nearby woods and showed him deer, squirrels, and birds.
How dreadfully he'd missed those days after she died.
Disappeared, not died, he corrected himself. She was part of Eva Unit 01, but regrettably, an Eva was not a suitable substitute for a mother.
Shinji knelt down in front of the tombstone and placed a bouquet of crimson blossoms in front of it, feeling the cold seep through the thin fabric to his knees.
How different life would have been, had she lived, Shinji reflected. How often he had thought that as a child.
But he had made himself a place and a name in the world, and the once cautious and shy pilot of Evangelion Unit 01 had to admit that he was perfectly happy crawling through swamps with his old friend Kensuke Aida, snapping pictures of whatever came into sight. He'd met with many rich and educated photographers and writers in America, and long ago ceased to feel himself inferior to them. His colleagues at work treated him with respect. Shinji Ikari was no longer the weak boy constantly beat and bossed about by a certain redheaded roommate.
Shinji fiddled with the sleeves of his business suit. While he would be happiest in America, discussing their next edition with Kensuke, part of him would always belong here. This particular tract of land—not any random part of Japan, not Misato's home, nor Nerv headquarters would always be special to him. This was the last connection he had to his mother. The only son of Yui Ikari reached out a hand to trace the eroded letters of her name.
She had always wanted him to be happy. Shinji smiled, knowing she would be proud to see him today.
With that thought on his mind, Shinji stood up, brushed the soil off of his knees, picked up his briefcase, and left the cemetery.
= = = = = = =
"So what's he like?"
Kimie was perched on a chair so that she could reach the tabletop, where she was busily stirring batter for a loaf of bread. Misato had left early in the morning to drive Ritsuko home, and had decided to spend the night there as well—due in part to Ritsuko's cajoling. The doctor had not felt it safe for Misato to drive eight hours in one day, given the occurrences of last time. With only Shinji home for dinner, Asuka had quickly invited Kimie over. At the very least she could act as a buffer between them.
"He's all right. It's hard trying to talk to him," Asuka confessed. Even after they had shared the house for nearly a week, the redhead was finding it difficult to initiate conversations. He remembered everything, and she remembered practically nothing. It was clear that she was thirsting for knowledge, and his interests lay in adding to the cement wall he had built up against the past. "That should be enough, Kimie. Here, pour it into this pan."
She held the pan out with both hands, but Kimie didn't pour the batter.
"Asuka-san," the girl said at last, "shouldn't you hold it over the sink, so that anything we spill will go down the drain instead of on the floor?"
Drawn out of her temporary trance, Asuka flushed and quickly moved the pan.
"Sorry."
"You've got lots of things on your mind," the girl commented quietly, indirectly accepting the apology. It was not a plea to hear more about Asuka's life, but the redhead spoke anyway.
"We knew each other when we were just a little older than you," Asuka told her, "and I wasn't very nice to him. Although I don't remember any of it now, he does. Now—" she hesitated for just a moment—"although I know he's long forgiven me for it, I still feel ashamed of what I did, whenever I see him."
To her surprise, Kimie did not offer sympathy. "What happened in the past happened, and we can't change it. Since he forgave you and wants to be friends again, you should take that chance."
Asuka dropped the pan. Batter splattered over the sides into the sink.
"Sorry," she apologized hastily and began to clean. But Kimie was faster, disposing of the mess in a matter of seconds.
"That's why we did it over the sink," she laughed. Seeing Asuka's thoughtful expression, however, she shrugged. "Well, it's always sorted out Makoto's problems."
How mature she is, thought Asuka in admiration.
The rest of the hour was spent laughing over the antics of Makoto and his younger brother while they cooked. By the time the doorbell rang, Asuka had set several platters of food on the table and Kimie was busily slicing the freshly baked bread.
"Something smells good," Shinji commented as Asuka stepped aside to let him in.
Asuka gave a muffled sound of affirmation, then mentally reprimanded herself for not following Kimie's advice. Quickly she led him through the kitchen and to the table, where Kimie gave her an encouraging look. Asuka plunged through the introductions. Then they sat down to eat.'
Kimie kept the conversation going, and Shinji seemed perfectly comfortable in her presence. Asuka, on the other hand, kept quiet despite Kimie's frequent glances in her direction, clearly intended to goad her into the conversation. She could avoid the inevitable no more, however, when Kimie jumped up and offered to clean up. Being the polite guest, Shinji objected immediately, but Kimie insisted and all but pushed them outside into the watermelon patch.
Asuka said, "How was your day?"
Shinji shrugged. "It was fine. I went to visit my mother." At Asuka's sudden glance, he continued, "It's the first time I've ever been there alone."
They each chose a watermelon and sat down.
He had parents, Asuka thought, but they were never really parents to him. His mother disappeared so early and his father completely neglected him.
He's not all that different from me.
"Asuka," Shinji said quietly, "I found out some stuff about your parents."
"Tell me."
Shinji was hesitant. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes."
She was facing him now, her sapphire blue eyes focused intently on his face. Shinji felt himself drawing away. He knew the truth was not what she wanted to hear.
"Your father was never in your life," he said, making it as short and mild as he could, "and we don't know who he was. Your mother died when you were about five or six."
"How?" Her eyes were wide.
But before Shinji began to speak, she remembered—and saw—the past.
"She hung herself. She had been in the hospital for a long time, and—Asuka, are you listening?"
For Asuka had finally broken the glance and turned to look away. Shinji's voice faded, and instead she returned to the German hospital as a child.
= = = = = = =
She was wearing a small red dress with a white collar as she stood outside the wall-sized window of her mother's room. The nurses were speaking about her in hushed undertones, yet she chose not to react.
"Everyday, she's like that. She talks to the doll, thinking that it's her beloved daughter."
"She might feel responsible, in her own way. She devoted her whole life to research, and did not spend the time to take care of her own daughter."
"I sympathize with your grief."
I'm not a doll. I'm not that doll in your arms!
"Asuka-chan, Mama cooked your favorite for you."
Look at me!
"If you complain about what you like and dislike, that girl will laugh at you."
I'm not a doll!
Why am I still here?
She doesn't care about me. She doesn't know I exist. To her, I'm nothing but a doll with button eyes and yarn for hair.
Her chin drooped. The scene changed.
"You are so good, my Asuka... you may cry if you wish."
"It's okay." I am stronger than her. I can survive alone.
"I won't cry. I can think for myself."
She stared at the stony words with a defiant glare. Sorhyu Kyoko Zeppelin. 1974 - 2005.
I am not a baby. I will become an adult earlier than other people.
And I don't need a teddy bear.
= = = = = = =
"Asuka!"
To Shinji's immense relief, her head snapped up at his sharp voice. "Asuka, are you all right?"
She nodded weakly.
"You're crying," he said quietly, and reached into his pocket for a tissue. Asuka took it and sniffled.
"I remember." Her throat constricted and she was unable to get any more words out. Not that she really wanted to, either.
He let her cry herself out. As soon as the initial wave of remembrance and sorrow washed over her, Asuka was overwhelmed by shame. What did she think she was doing, crying in front of him? His childhood had not been any easier than hers. Why then, had she allowed herself to falter, while he had succeeded?
There is no one to blame but myself, Asuka thought. She tilted her head back and sniffled, commanding the tears to stop.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, as soon as she could trust her voice.
"Don't be." Shinji relaxed his gaze on her and stared out into the distance. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you."
"It's fine." A breeze rippled through Asuka's hair and she shivered.
Shinji reached out and patted a nearby watermelon. "Shall we split a watermelon?"
Asuka jumped to her feet. "No, I'm not hungry." The wind blew and she shivered uncontrollably. "I think I'm going to go inside. It's cold out here."
Shinji quickly offered his jacket, but Asuka declined and ran into the warm and toasty house.
"Asuka-san!"
Asuka was calmed by Kimie's simple presence. Here was a girl who didn't know of her tragic past and who didn't care to ask or tell her about it. She breathed heavily, glancing around the well-lit room. There was the table, the bookshelf, the clock, where they had always been. The German hospital faded away.
Kimie took one glance at Asuka's harried face and declined to comment. "I'm almost finished cleaning up," she said smoothly. "You should go upstairs and lie down."
Asuka nodded and did so.
Shinji appeared a moment later, looking none less harried than Asuka. He glanced around frantically, but the redhead was nowhere to be seen. The girl at the sink had an answer for him, however.
"Asuka-san's gone up to lie down," she informed him quietly as she dried her hands on a towel. "She looked like she wanted to be alone."
Shinji nodded, not completely reassured. "Thanks."
Kimie nodded. "I'll be going home now. Tell Asuka-san I hope she feels better."
As soon as the door shut behind her, Shinji made his way around to the room Misato and Asuka shared. The door was closed but a sheet of light shone from the space beneath the door. Inside, he could hear her sobbing.
Shinji raised a hand to knock on the door, but recalled Kimie's advice. Slowly he retreated back to his place on the couch, drew the blankets up to his chin, and drifted off to sleep.
= = = = = = =
A loud, retching sound awoke him in the early hours of the morning. Shinji propped himself up on one elbow, then the other. Asuka's room was on the other side of the house, but he could see a faint yellow light. When the noises continued, Shinji crept out of bed and opened her door.
Asuka was bent over the toilet, her hands clutching the edge of the sink. Her feet looked unstable and her legs quivered unstoppably.
"Asuka, are you all right?"
"I'm fine!" she cried out in an unusually high-pitched voice before bending over again. Shinji turned his head away as he wondered what he ought to do. Asuka solved that problem for him.
"I'm fine!" she insisted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she came to the door. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright, framed loosely by her tousled hair. "Go back to bed!"
It was a command, and Shinji obeyed, honestly believing she'd be much better in the morning. He climbed back onto his couch and quickly fell asleep.
It was one of the worst assumptions he'd ever made.
= = = = = = =
When she was sure that he'd finally gone back to bed, Asuka washed her mouth out thoroughly to get rid of the acrid taste, then put on a jacket and turned off the light. She certainly had no intention of going back to bed.
Asuka slipped the door open just a crack, but Shinji's snores were already quite audible. She opened the door wider and left. A few more steps and she was out of the house.
How nice the cool night air felt on her warm cheeks.
Asuka began to walk, trying to take her mind off of the tragedies she had just been reminded of. An owl hooted over her head and she paused for a moment to watch its majestic flight into the night.
She walked barefoot through the woods, letting the cold seep through her skin as the briars tore at her clothes. She wasn't scared. She just needed a moment to reorganize her thoughts. Asuka exited the woods and came to the edge of Tokyo-3.
She could see the tall buildings of the city in the distance, glowing various colors from their lights. The streets, however, were quiet and nearly empty, a nice change from the usual day crowd. She wondered who else was awake in the morning.
Asuka continued her trek. She didn't feel the numbing of her feet from the cold, only the heatedness of her cheeks and forehead. The wind had no effect on her anymore. She felt very alone—and oddly, very strong. There was nothing she couldn't do alone. Asuka glanced up, noticing that the lights seemed to blend together into a multicolor haze. Then she stepped into the street.
She never saw the car.
= = = = = = =
Something jolted Shinji awake and he was deeply irritated for being interrupted twice in one night. Sitting up, however, he realized that the door to Asuka's room was not emitting any light around it—it was open. Her room appeared simply to be a large, dark space.
Asuka never slept with the door open. Confused, Shinji reluctantly got to his feet and went to check up on her.
The first thing he saw was that her blankets were strewn across the room, her closet door wide open, and her favorite jacket gone. Terror streaked through him as he ran to the door, grabbed his shoes, and hurried outside without bothering to put them on.
She was nowhere to be seen outside, but beyond the woods that surrounded Misato's house—Shinji's heart sank—he could make out flashing red and blue lights, and the siren could be heard plainly.
The shoes dropped from Shinji's numb fingers as he took off at a run towards the light.
Author's note: I felt bad about making this a cliffhanger, so I decided to post up two chapters at the same time. Drop me a review and tell me what you think!
It had never been somewhere Shinji liked to be before, for he was never allowed to be alone. During the earlier years of his life the teacher had always accompanied him, making shifty gestures that clearly showed that he was uncomfortable. Throughout the years at Nerv he had visited his mother's grave every now and then—with his father. The thought of his father sent a surge of both annoyance and regret down his spine. Shinji pushed those thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the few happy times of his childhood.
As brilliant a scientist as Yui Ikari had been, she had loved wildlife and nature as well. He had seen pictures of her hiking up mountains with his father before they were married. When he was old enough to understand, Yui had often taken him into the nearby woods and showed him deer, squirrels, and birds.
How dreadfully he'd missed those days after she died.
Disappeared, not died, he corrected himself. She was part of Eva Unit 01, but regrettably, an Eva was not a suitable substitute for a mother.
Shinji knelt down in front of the tombstone and placed a bouquet of crimson blossoms in front of it, feeling the cold seep through the thin fabric to his knees.
How different life would have been, had she lived, Shinji reflected. How often he had thought that as a child.
But he had made himself a place and a name in the world, and the once cautious and shy pilot of Evangelion Unit 01 had to admit that he was perfectly happy crawling through swamps with his old friend Kensuke Aida, snapping pictures of whatever came into sight. He'd met with many rich and educated photographers and writers in America, and long ago ceased to feel himself inferior to them. His colleagues at work treated him with respect. Shinji Ikari was no longer the weak boy constantly beat and bossed about by a certain redheaded roommate.
Shinji fiddled with the sleeves of his business suit. While he would be happiest in America, discussing their next edition with Kensuke, part of him would always belong here. This particular tract of land—not any random part of Japan, not Misato's home, nor Nerv headquarters would always be special to him. This was the last connection he had to his mother. The only son of Yui Ikari reached out a hand to trace the eroded letters of her name.
She had always wanted him to be happy. Shinji smiled, knowing she would be proud to see him today.
With that thought on his mind, Shinji stood up, brushed the soil off of his knees, picked up his briefcase, and left the cemetery.
= = = = = = =
"So what's he like?"
Kimie was perched on a chair so that she could reach the tabletop, where she was busily stirring batter for a loaf of bread. Misato had left early in the morning to drive Ritsuko home, and had decided to spend the night there as well—due in part to Ritsuko's cajoling. The doctor had not felt it safe for Misato to drive eight hours in one day, given the occurrences of last time. With only Shinji home for dinner, Asuka had quickly invited Kimie over. At the very least she could act as a buffer between them.
"He's all right. It's hard trying to talk to him," Asuka confessed. Even after they had shared the house for nearly a week, the redhead was finding it difficult to initiate conversations. He remembered everything, and she remembered practically nothing. It was clear that she was thirsting for knowledge, and his interests lay in adding to the cement wall he had built up against the past. "That should be enough, Kimie. Here, pour it into this pan."
She held the pan out with both hands, but Kimie didn't pour the batter.
"Asuka-san," the girl said at last, "shouldn't you hold it over the sink, so that anything we spill will go down the drain instead of on the floor?"
Drawn out of her temporary trance, Asuka flushed and quickly moved the pan.
"Sorry."
"You've got lots of things on your mind," the girl commented quietly, indirectly accepting the apology. It was not a plea to hear more about Asuka's life, but the redhead spoke anyway.
"We knew each other when we were just a little older than you," Asuka told her, "and I wasn't very nice to him. Although I don't remember any of it now, he does. Now—" she hesitated for just a moment—"although I know he's long forgiven me for it, I still feel ashamed of what I did, whenever I see him."
To her surprise, Kimie did not offer sympathy. "What happened in the past happened, and we can't change it. Since he forgave you and wants to be friends again, you should take that chance."
Asuka dropped the pan. Batter splattered over the sides into the sink.
"Sorry," she apologized hastily and began to clean. But Kimie was faster, disposing of the mess in a matter of seconds.
"That's why we did it over the sink," she laughed. Seeing Asuka's thoughtful expression, however, she shrugged. "Well, it's always sorted out Makoto's problems."
How mature she is, thought Asuka in admiration.
The rest of the hour was spent laughing over the antics of Makoto and his younger brother while they cooked. By the time the doorbell rang, Asuka had set several platters of food on the table and Kimie was busily slicing the freshly baked bread.
"Something smells good," Shinji commented as Asuka stepped aside to let him in.
Asuka gave a muffled sound of affirmation, then mentally reprimanded herself for not following Kimie's advice. Quickly she led him through the kitchen and to the table, where Kimie gave her an encouraging look. Asuka plunged through the introductions. Then they sat down to eat.'
Kimie kept the conversation going, and Shinji seemed perfectly comfortable in her presence. Asuka, on the other hand, kept quiet despite Kimie's frequent glances in her direction, clearly intended to goad her into the conversation. She could avoid the inevitable no more, however, when Kimie jumped up and offered to clean up. Being the polite guest, Shinji objected immediately, but Kimie insisted and all but pushed them outside into the watermelon patch.
Asuka said, "How was your day?"
Shinji shrugged. "It was fine. I went to visit my mother." At Asuka's sudden glance, he continued, "It's the first time I've ever been there alone."
They each chose a watermelon and sat down.
He had parents, Asuka thought, but they were never really parents to him. His mother disappeared so early and his father completely neglected him.
He's not all that different from me.
"Asuka," Shinji said quietly, "I found out some stuff about your parents."
"Tell me."
Shinji was hesitant. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes."
She was facing him now, her sapphire blue eyes focused intently on his face. Shinji felt himself drawing away. He knew the truth was not what she wanted to hear.
"Your father was never in your life," he said, making it as short and mild as he could, "and we don't know who he was. Your mother died when you were about five or six."
"How?" Her eyes were wide.
But before Shinji began to speak, she remembered—and saw—the past.
"She hung herself. She had been in the hospital for a long time, and—Asuka, are you listening?"
For Asuka had finally broken the glance and turned to look away. Shinji's voice faded, and instead she returned to the German hospital as a child.
= = = = = = =
She was wearing a small red dress with a white collar as she stood outside the wall-sized window of her mother's room. The nurses were speaking about her in hushed undertones, yet she chose not to react.
"Everyday, she's like that. She talks to the doll, thinking that it's her beloved daughter."
"She might feel responsible, in her own way. She devoted her whole life to research, and did not spend the time to take care of her own daughter."
"I sympathize with your grief."
I'm not a doll. I'm not that doll in your arms!
"Asuka-chan, Mama cooked your favorite for you."
Look at me!
"If you complain about what you like and dislike, that girl will laugh at you."
I'm not a doll!
Why am I still here?
She doesn't care about me. She doesn't know I exist. To her, I'm nothing but a doll with button eyes and yarn for hair.
Her chin drooped. The scene changed.
"You are so good, my Asuka... you may cry if you wish."
"It's okay." I am stronger than her. I can survive alone.
"I won't cry. I can think for myself."
She stared at the stony words with a defiant glare. Sorhyu Kyoko Zeppelin. 1974 - 2005.
I am not a baby. I will become an adult earlier than other people.
And I don't need a teddy bear.
= = = = = = =
"Asuka!"
To Shinji's immense relief, her head snapped up at his sharp voice. "Asuka, are you all right?"
She nodded weakly.
"You're crying," he said quietly, and reached into his pocket for a tissue. Asuka took it and sniffled.
"I remember." Her throat constricted and she was unable to get any more words out. Not that she really wanted to, either.
He let her cry herself out. As soon as the initial wave of remembrance and sorrow washed over her, Asuka was overwhelmed by shame. What did she think she was doing, crying in front of him? His childhood had not been any easier than hers. Why then, had she allowed herself to falter, while he had succeeded?
There is no one to blame but myself, Asuka thought. She tilted her head back and sniffled, commanding the tears to stop.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, as soon as she could trust her voice.
"Don't be." Shinji relaxed his gaze on her and stared out into the distance. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you."
"It's fine." A breeze rippled through Asuka's hair and she shivered.
Shinji reached out and patted a nearby watermelon. "Shall we split a watermelon?"
Asuka jumped to her feet. "No, I'm not hungry." The wind blew and she shivered uncontrollably. "I think I'm going to go inside. It's cold out here."
Shinji quickly offered his jacket, but Asuka declined and ran into the warm and toasty house.
"Asuka-san!"
Asuka was calmed by Kimie's simple presence. Here was a girl who didn't know of her tragic past and who didn't care to ask or tell her about it. She breathed heavily, glancing around the well-lit room. There was the table, the bookshelf, the clock, where they had always been. The German hospital faded away.
Kimie took one glance at Asuka's harried face and declined to comment. "I'm almost finished cleaning up," she said smoothly. "You should go upstairs and lie down."
Asuka nodded and did so.
Shinji appeared a moment later, looking none less harried than Asuka. He glanced around frantically, but the redhead was nowhere to be seen. The girl at the sink had an answer for him, however.
"Asuka-san's gone up to lie down," she informed him quietly as she dried her hands on a towel. "She looked like she wanted to be alone."
Shinji nodded, not completely reassured. "Thanks."
Kimie nodded. "I'll be going home now. Tell Asuka-san I hope she feels better."
As soon as the door shut behind her, Shinji made his way around to the room Misato and Asuka shared. The door was closed but a sheet of light shone from the space beneath the door. Inside, he could hear her sobbing.
Shinji raised a hand to knock on the door, but recalled Kimie's advice. Slowly he retreated back to his place on the couch, drew the blankets up to his chin, and drifted off to sleep.
= = = = = = =
A loud, retching sound awoke him in the early hours of the morning. Shinji propped himself up on one elbow, then the other. Asuka's room was on the other side of the house, but he could see a faint yellow light. When the noises continued, Shinji crept out of bed and opened her door.
Asuka was bent over the toilet, her hands clutching the edge of the sink. Her feet looked unstable and her legs quivered unstoppably.
"Asuka, are you all right?"
"I'm fine!" she cried out in an unusually high-pitched voice before bending over again. Shinji turned his head away as he wondered what he ought to do. Asuka solved that problem for him.
"I'm fine!" she insisted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she came to the door. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright, framed loosely by her tousled hair. "Go back to bed!"
It was a command, and Shinji obeyed, honestly believing she'd be much better in the morning. He climbed back onto his couch and quickly fell asleep.
It was one of the worst assumptions he'd ever made.
= = = = = = =
When she was sure that he'd finally gone back to bed, Asuka washed her mouth out thoroughly to get rid of the acrid taste, then put on a jacket and turned off the light. She certainly had no intention of going back to bed.
Asuka slipped the door open just a crack, but Shinji's snores were already quite audible. She opened the door wider and left. A few more steps and she was out of the house.
How nice the cool night air felt on her warm cheeks.
Asuka began to walk, trying to take her mind off of the tragedies she had just been reminded of. An owl hooted over her head and she paused for a moment to watch its majestic flight into the night.
She walked barefoot through the woods, letting the cold seep through her skin as the briars tore at her clothes. She wasn't scared. She just needed a moment to reorganize her thoughts. Asuka exited the woods and came to the edge of Tokyo-3.
She could see the tall buildings of the city in the distance, glowing various colors from their lights. The streets, however, were quiet and nearly empty, a nice change from the usual day crowd. She wondered who else was awake in the morning.
Asuka continued her trek. She didn't feel the numbing of her feet from the cold, only the heatedness of her cheeks and forehead. The wind had no effect on her anymore. She felt very alone—and oddly, very strong. There was nothing she couldn't do alone. Asuka glanced up, noticing that the lights seemed to blend together into a multicolor haze. Then she stepped into the street.
She never saw the car.
= = = = = = =
Something jolted Shinji awake and he was deeply irritated for being interrupted twice in one night. Sitting up, however, he realized that the door to Asuka's room was not emitting any light around it—it was open. Her room appeared simply to be a large, dark space.
Asuka never slept with the door open. Confused, Shinji reluctantly got to his feet and went to check up on her.
The first thing he saw was that her blankets were strewn across the room, her closet door wide open, and her favorite jacket gone. Terror streaked through him as he ran to the door, grabbed his shoes, and hurried outside without bothering to put them on.
She was nowhere to be seen outside, but beyond the woods that surrounded Misato's house—Shinji's heart sank—he could make out flashing red and blue lights, and the siren could be heard plainly.
The shoes dropped from Shinji's numb fingers as he took off at a run towards the light.
Author's note: I felt bad about making this a cliffhanger, so I decided to post up two chapters at the same time. Drop me a review and tell me what you think!