Disclaimer: see part 1.
When All That's Left is Stillness
By Random1377
Part 2
Slower than necessary, I walk towards the pribnow box. My thoughts are still moving faster than normal, as is my heart, but I am used to containing myself. I have had years to perfect it, and an excellent teacher. I am greeted by the usual group of people as I enter the testing area – Doctor Akagi, Miss Ibuki, Major Katsuragi, others I do not care to mention. I acknowledge their calls with a nod and glance towards my destination.
Ikari is there, looking as if he has done something wrong, and the Second Child is standing next to him, discussing something I cannot quite hear. I take a moment to study them, finding myself in a state of mild amazement at how easy it seems for them to talk to one another.
They do not seem concerned with anything past what they are talking about. There is no hint on their faces that they hold any fear or unease about what the future may hold, or how they might handle the next angel, or whether or not the human race is teetering on the brink of extinction.
For them – the Second, especially – all that matters is the present.
Should I be envious of this? I'm not sure. I know that I would like to speak as freely as they do, but what if the cost of that freedom is ignorance or disregard for the future? How can I be carefree when there is so much in the world to care about?
Compelled by my curiosity, more than the fact that I am required to be there, I start towards them, trying to focus my ears on their conversation.
"…n't believe you're still having trouble with that!"
"Well, it's hard."
"I gave you an example, didn't I??"
"That's… yeah, but-"
"But nothing – you got an A on the last paper, is the information just leaking out of your head, or what?"
"…I don't know."
"God, you're so whiny, I – oh look… Wondergirl."
The Second rolls her eyes, folding her arms under her breasts and turning her back on me as she continues her discussion with Ikari. Ikari glances into my eyes, but looks away quickly, seeming embarrassed that he dared to look at me. I watch him, keeping my eyes on his face until he looks up again and attempting to read his expression.
His eyes shoot away once more, but before they do, his lips seem to come up, though only slightly. It is not the playful, teasing smile that people such as Mister Kaji always seem to wear – the one that hints that life is simply a game, and somehow they have found a way to circumvent the rules. Nor is it the smile of a predator, waiting only until his victim's defenses are down to reveal his true nature and strike. No, Ikari's smile is one of confusion. It is the look of someone who is certain that the glance being cast his way is misdirected, or part of some joke at his expense.
Finally looking away from him, I realize that I am somewhat jealous of the various smiles he is able to exhibit.
I only have one smile. And it is false.
"Rei."
"Yes?"
"You're late."
"Yes."
"This is the first time…"
"Yes."
Doctor Akagi sighs, turning her attention back to Major Katsuragi and murmuring something under her breath. I know it is not a compliment. Doctor Akagi does not like me. I am not entirely sure what I have done to earn her hatred, but when she looks at me, she is unable – or perhaps unwilling – to hide her disgust. Her eyes always remind me of the half-remembered dream I have had off and on since I was a child.
I am in Central Dogma, though it is empty, barren – incomplete. I am speaking with a woman that reminds me of Doctor Akagi, though her hair is dark and her eyes are even crueler. We talk. She offers to help me find my way out. I say… something, I do not remember what, but it is a message the Commander directed me to deliver. My next memory is of suffocation, hands around my throat, another person with red eyes, and darkness.
The most disturbing aspect of this dream is the fact that if I close my eyes, I can easily recall the details of it, regardless of how long it has been since I last dreamt it.
The similarity between this dream and actual memories makes me uneasy.
I bring my attention to the present as Doctor Akagi outlines the goals for our synchronization tests, specifically what thresholds we will be attempting, feedback levels, specific thoughts she would like us to have, and estimated duration. We all confirm our understanding and head towards the test plugs, familiar by now with this routine. The Second starts to complain that the tests we run are useless, but I tune her out, focusing on Ikari.
In – discretely – looking him up and down, I decide that I definitely like what I see, but at the same time, I can understand why someone like the Second would not. He is not a very athletic person, his shoulders are perpetually slumped forward as if in defeat, and he seems almost physically unable to maintain eye contact for more than ten to fifteen seconds, traits that most women, I'm sure, would find unappealing.
However, I am not like most of my classmates. Furthermore, my current assessment of him is not based solely on physical attraction. What I am looking for, it seems, is impossible to define, but I am confident that I will understand it when I get closer to reaching it.
"Ikari."
"Hmm?"
"…ganbatte."
"Th-thanks."
His face grows red as he hurriedly climbs into his test plug, smacking his forehead on the edge of the doorframe and groaning in pain as he closes the door behind him. The Second, I notice, is staring at me. She does not look pleased, but as her opinion of me – already nearly as low as Doctor Akagi's – is not much of a concern for me, I ignore her.
I am too busy trying to understand why I spoke.
I am too busy wondering why I am suddenly afraid that my actions were premature and ill-conceived.
And I am too busy isolating the warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. It is similar to the sensation I had when Ikari instructed me to smile after our defeat of the fifth angel – but it is stronger, and more focused. My contemplation is interrupted as the Second Child addresses me.
"Like something you see, Wondergirl?"
"I do not understand what you mean."
"Yes you do, First… you were scheming on Shinji."
"Scheming…?"
"God, you're so dense. Scheming, digging, lusting, Hell, you were almost drooling!"
"Mmm."
"Don't you 'mmm' me! You like Shinji – admit it!"
"…yes."
This answer, clearly, was not what the Second was expecting. She sputters for a moment, opening and closing her mouth and tries to come up with something to say, but before she can speak, Doctor Akagi's voice comes over the speakers, telling us to hurry up and get into the plugs so she can start the test.
Climbing in, it occurs to me that I may have been mistaken about the Second's qualifications for companionship. Perhaps it is due to the close proximity in which they live, but upon reflection it seems that Pilot Souryu goes out of her way to be close to Ikari. Certainly, she spends much of her time berating or insulting him, but if there was no attraction, why wait for him after sync tests, or walk with him to school? If she truly held him in as much contempt as she portrays, would she not want to be as far away from his as possible?
Settling into my seat, I close my eyes. I am over-thinking again. Breathing evenly, I force my body to relax, seeking out the stillness that has served me so well over the years, and within moments, thoughts of the Second, and Ikari, and anything outside of EVA fade into dim background noise. There will be time enough after the synchronization tests to try to understand why I initiated a conversation with Ikari, and why the Second's tastes should be my concern.
Halfway through the test, my painstakingly constructed stillness shatters momentarily, broken by the sharp, nearly accusing idea that I spoke to Ikari out of the basest of all human desires – lust.
Taking several deep breaths, I bring my pulse rate back under control and discard this notion out of hand. This is so unlike me – I am not prone to fits of agitation, or plagued by bouts of second-guessing and sophomoric mooning over boys. I am a trained pilot, and I know that my purpose is to serve the Commander by operating EVA.
There is no need to continue dwelling on something that I cannot, and should not have.
Correct?
"Rei."
"Yes?"
"Your synch score is down by three points."
"A three point variation is-"
"Since starting!"
Twenty-five minutes into the test… and my score is down three points.
"I will increase it."
"Make sure that you do."
Suppressing my emotions has been a part of my life for so long that it is almost second nature. I do as I say I will, bringing my sync scores back up to the required level by blocking out everything else… but Doctor Akagi noticed that there was an issue. I will be lectured for this.
It was careless of me not to use my full concentration on blocking out thoughts of Ikari and the Second. Carelessness is not in my normal routine.
But done is done, as the Commander once told me, and there is nothing left for me to do but adapt to the change and alter my plan. Not that I truly had a plan to begin with, nor did I even expect to be contemplating this situation just yet. When I left my locker, I had planned on nothing further than observation and analysis. Now, due to my impulsive, single-word interaction with Ikari – and its repercussions – I find myself steered in a new direction.
And my deviation has been observed.
When the sync test is complete, Doctor Akagi asks me to stay behind, sparing me any immediate confrontation with the Second, should she still care. Doctor Akagi leaves me standing behind her as she enters her notes on the test in silence. I believe this is an attempt to make me uncomfortable, but I simply focus my attention on the far side of the wall until the time comes when she is ready to speak to me.
That time, however, never comes.
After ten minutes have passed, she turns her chair to face me. She is wearing her glasses today. They always remind me of the Commander. Without a word, she picks up a piece of paper and hands it to me, turning away from me before my fingers have even finished closing on it.
I glance at the paper.
Pilot Ayanami: your test scores for today are unacceptable. Even a slight loss of concentration during a combat situation could cost the lives of your teammates. Don't let it happen again.
Looking up, I prepare to defend my lack of focus to the doctor, but she is already typing the remaining notes into her computer, ignoring my presence entirely.
I am not worth her time.
Though she cannot see me, I give her a polite bow before taking my leave, making my way back to the locker room with the admonishment held firmly in my hands. It will serve as a reminder, I decide – a reminder that no matter what I do, there will always be someone there to point out my faults and shortcomings, and that there is always a cost for trying to find a way to seek happiness.
The locker room is empty when I arrive, so I am spared any comments from the Second Child as I set the paper in my locker and undress to take a shower. As I put my hand on my locker door, however, the energy bar Ikari gave me catches my eye. Slowly, I lift it up, examining it for a moment before peeling one corner of the foil wrapper back and bringing it to my mouth.
Hesitantly, I take a small bite of the corner… and I have to close my eyes for fear of being swept away by the sudden rush of emotion this simple act brings. It is dry, chalky, and entirely too sweet, but in slowly chewing it, I realize that these are all characteristics I have never noticed before. I have always treated food as a necessity – something to be consumed as quickly as possible while on the way to my next task or obligation.
I have eaten hundreds of energy bars just like this one in my lifetime, but I have never once paused to take note of how they taste.
Carefully, I fold the wrapper back over the rest of the bar, telling myself that I will eat the rest on the train – when I have more time to focus on the taste, and when I have more time to answer a few more of those increasingly nagging questions bubbling up like crude oil from the deepest, most carefully suppressed corners of my mind.
How long have I been still?
How long have I been silent?
…how long have I been dead?
But more important than any of these others was how much of my life can I, should I, and AM I going to change?
Thankfully, I do have at least one idea for where I might be able to start.
Continued…
Authors notes: writing this story is… tiring. I'm trying really hard to keep Rei – and everyone else, but Rei especially – in character, and I don't feel I'm doing a very good job.
Hope you folks are liking it, though.
No pre-reader was used for this chapter.
Feedback is always welcome on any page with reviewing capabilities, or by emailing me directly at random1377(at-sign)yahoo(dot)com.