Disclaimer: see part 1.
When All That's Left is Stillness
By Random1377
Part 3
The energy bar, I find, is not as exciting as I had initially thought. Perhaps it is due to the other thoughts running through my mind, but as I wait on the train platform, taking small bites to try to recapture that rush of feelings I experienced in the locker room, it tastes bland and uninteresting. I eat it anyway, as I have not had any other sustenance today, and throw the wrapper in the garbage less than two minutes before the train arrives.
Since it is a weekend, and still relatively early in the day, the train is very crowded, and I am forced to stand. I always try to keep a respectable distance between myself and other riders, partly out of courtesy, partly out of a dislike of being touched by those I don't know, but on days like this I often find myself pressed tightly against someone I have never laid eyes on before in my life.
Today it is a young woman dressed in an expensive looking skirt and blouse. She is not much taller than me, but her green eyes are attentive and serious, and her face is very carefully – almost professionally – made up. I am afforded the opportunity to discover all of this by the fact that her face is less than a foot from my own… and she is watching me.
I keep averting my eyes, but every time I look back, she is there, as if waiting for me to address her, so I finally settle my eyes on hers and wait for her to say what is on her mind. It will not be the first time I have had another woman approach me. It does not happen very often, but just as there are those that find my appearances unsettling, there are those who find me alluring or exotic, and this occasionally leads to attempts to have me accompany them somewhere – usually a karaoke bar, or, for the bolder ones, a hotel in the red-light district.
The woman takes a breath, and I brace myself, mentally preparing a polite, but firm, no.
"Hello."
"Hello."
"My name is Ryoko, what's yours?"
"Rei."
"Well, Rei, I don't suppose you would be interested in joining me for a drink? I have a business prop-"
"No."
"Oh, but you haven't even heard me out yet! Listen, I'm not trying to pick you up, if that's what you're worried about."
This woman is very astute, I think, glancing around for an open space I might be able to slip into.
"You're very pretty."
"Mmm."
"I mean that. You have the kind of face that guys go nuts for."
"Mmm."
"God, you're not going to make this easy for me, are you? Ok, I'm a talent scout for Goichi modeling agency in Tokyo-2, and I'm in town looking for new talent. Please have a drink with me and hear what I have to say."
"This is my stop."
"Excuse me?"
"This is my stop."
"Oh, damn, umm… ok, here – take my card, ok? Call me any time. Really. I'd love to have you working for us, you really are lovely."
I allow her to press a small card into my hand as I step past her and make my way to the door. Stepping out onto the platform, I glance back to where she is standing. Her eyes catch mine and she raises her hand to her face, touching her thumb to her ear as her smallest finger brushes her bottom lip. She mouths the words, 'call me!' a moment before the doors slide closed, cutting her off from view.
Looking down at the card, I find myself frowning. Me? Lovely?
The idea is nearly laughable. I know that I am attractive, by most men's standards, but lovely just seems so unfitting a word. Lovely would be Major Katsuragi in full uniform. Lovely would be Doctor Akagi with her glasses on. Lovely would be the Second Child with her head thrown back as she laughs at something her friend said.
I know what lovely is, and it is not me.
Discarding the woman's comments as lunacy, I wait for the next train. Normally, this IS my stop, so I was not entirely dishonest with the woman, but today I have somewhere else I would like to go – an address I have long since memorized, but never planned to visit of my own volition – and I require my thoughts to be clear and focused when I arrive. Otherwise, I might not be able to gain more understanding of this strange feeling that is welling up inside me, this alien, confusing unrest that has put me into a state of uncertainty the likes of which I have never felt before.
When the train arrives, I find it pleasingly empty, allowing me a seat of my own as I continue pondering where I am going and what I might find when I get there. It takes me less than ten minutes to force my mind back around to the question of WHY I am going in the first place. This, of all the other questions in my mind, is the hardest to approach. What is motivating me? Why today, when every other day of my life I have been comfortable with my routine? The question of what I might hope to gain is strong in my mind, but gain is not as important as understanding.
Unfortunately, the train reaches the stop I am looking for before I can reach any definitive conclusion.
Glancing up at the sky, I notice that the clouds are getting darker and more ominous. It will rain before the day is out, I am sure of it. Resigning myself to the fact that I will be wet by the time I return home, I make my way down the street, searching for the apartment building that is my destination. I find it easily, riding the elevator to the floor I need and approaching the door with a slightly uneasy feeling of anticipation.
Before I can stop myself or rethink my decision, I ring the doorbell, and moments later, the person I am looking for opens the door.
"Oh, Ayanami!!"
"Hello."
"Er, come in, come in. Wow, I didn't expect to see you!"
"Mmm."
"No one else is home right now, so we've got the place all to ourselves."
"Mmm."
"…you ARE going to speak once you get inside, right?"
"Yes."
"Alright, then come on in before my dad pops up and tells me he's not paying to air condition the whole neighborhood."
Horaki gives me a small bow and gestures for me to come into her house. I step inside, glancing around at the tidy little apartment as she closes the door and locks it, motioning for me to follow her into the kitchen. As I move through the cramped space, I am amazed by how much is packed into it – and by how orderly everything is. Every surface is covered with papers and file folders in neat stacks, and each article has been carefully tagged with a colored sticker of some sort. Green, red, and violet seem to be the predominant colors, though without reading the papers, I have no way of knowing what they symbolize.
Catching my glance, Horaki explains that her father is a low-ranking accounting executive for NERV, and each of the color tags represents a division or department that he assists with. She complains that he works too much for the salary that he gets, but she is smiling fondly as she does it, making it fairly clear that she adores him in spite of his workaholic nature.
Being that organized – or having a family member that is – is something I cannot relate to, so I simply nod.
I take a seat in the kitchen, accepting her offer for tea, and place my hands flat on the table, looking around with mild curiosity. The kitchen, I decide, reminds me of Major Katsuragi's – when Ikari is in it. I have been to Major Katsuragi's apartment on several occasions, and I have noticed that there is a distinct difference in the way her kitchen feels when Ikari is cooking than when Major Katsuragi is. As when Ikari is cooking, Horaki's kitchen is well-organized and clean, giving the illusion that she would be just as prepared to produce a four course meal as pour hot water over tea leaves.
When the tea is finished, she sets a cup in front of me and offers me sugar and honey, both of which I decline, and takes a seat across the table from me, making small talk about her family and school work as the tea cools. Finally, I can see that her curiosity is too much for her and lifting her teacup to her lips, she begins to speak.
"So, umm… why are you here?"
"You invited me."
"Well, yeah, like, 3 months ago – but you always just blew me off. I didn't even think you still had my address."
"I memorized it."
"You did? Why?"
"Because you invited me over."
I can see that she is growing frustrated, but I do not know how to correct it. Dealing with others has never been my strong suit, and considering that I myself am not entirely clear on what I am hoping to gain by coming here, the idea of explaining myself to her seems rather like a lot to ask.
However, Horaki was not made class representative for nothing, and after a moment of careful contemplation, she takes a sip of her tea and looks me in the eyes.
"Did you come here to ask me something, Ayanami?"
"Yes."
"I thought that might be it."
"Did you?"
"Uh huh. It was the only thing I could think of, actually. I mean, I've… tried really hard to be your friend, but you've never seemed interested, so I figured you must need something now, and since you don't have anyone else to turn to, you came to me. Am I right?"
"…yes."
"Hmm."
I feel my face growing slightly red. In retrospect, and in light of her matter-of-fact assessment, Horaki would have every right to be upset with me. She has tried for some time to open her hand to me, and at every turn, I have brushed it aside. And now, since I could not think of anyone else to speak to, I have come to her with the hopes of having her help me make a change in my life.
What change? I am still not sure, entirely… but the longer I think about it, the more solid the idea becomes. Soon, I realize, it may be actionable. But until that time, further analysis and contemplation is required. A person such as myself cannot change overnight. I am not even sure that I can change at all, but I know for a fact that it will not happen all at once. It will take time, and assistance.
And right now, the only person that I can think would even consider helping me is the one sitting across the table from me, staring at me over the rim of her cup.
She clears her throat.
"It must be hard."
"Hmm?"
"Coming here. I've never seen you talk to anyone that didn't talk to you first, or accept anyone's invitation to hang out or go karaoke or anything… but you hopped on a train to come all the way over here. Was it hard, Ayanami?"
"…yes."
"But you still came."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"…I don't know."
"Hmm…"
I am drowning. Conversation is like a foreign sea, and every word I choose somehow seems to be a small stone slipped casually into my shoe, dragging me further and further down. Horaki's eyes are sharp – sharper than I ever would have guessed – and her gaze is unwavering as she sets her teacup down and folds her arms across her chest, leaning back against her chair.
Matching her stare seems suddenly impossible. Normally, I can look anyone in the eyes without hesitation, but today I have come to her house and approached her for advice with no regard for how offensive such a request might seem. I have not even asked what I came to ask, and I have already stumbled into admitting that the only reason I am here is to seek something from her, when every time she asked me for my friendship, I ignored her altogether.
Regarding my own, untouched cup, I find myself filled with shame. I take a breath, feeling that I should break the silence that has fallen between us, but no words come to my lips. What can I say? I have acted inconsiderately – almost callously. Why should I have any hope of earning her advice?
As I look up from my cup, however, I find Horaki staring at me with a small smile on her face.
"Answer me one question."
"Alright."
"After you get whatever it is you came here for… will that be it?"
"I don't… understand."
"What I'm asking is – after you ask me whatever you came to ask, are you just going to leave, or are we going to be friends now?"
"You… wish to be friends?"
"Heh… Ayanami, you kill me. Of course I want to be friends. I've invited you to go hang out or come over and study like, a hundred times. You think I do that for the hell of it?"
"No, but I do not understand why you would want to."
"Do you have to understand? I like you, Ayanami, that's all. I've always thought you were really cool, and I know you're really smart because I see everyone's grades. And, I don't know, I kinda wanted to get to know you – to understand why you never let anyone near you. It's kind of selfish of me, I guess, but I just… God, I'm gonna shut up now."
"Y-you… you like me…?"
No one has ever said that to me before. I am entirely unprepared for how it makes me feel. I know my face is burning as Horaki shrugs and nods, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot make myself say anything but thank you.
It is only the second time I have said it in my life.
Horaki smiles, taking a sip of her tea, and says 'You're welcome.'
Silence falls once more as I try to get a grip on my feelings. I had only come here with the intention of asking a few simple questions about relationships, and mere moments ago I was sure that Horaki was going to ask me to leave. But now, I am uncomfortably flushed, and I do not quite know what to do with my hands.
I think, perhaps… I have just made a friend.
It is my fist time.
"So…"
"Yes?"
"Why ARE you here, Ayanami? What did you want to ask me?"
"Yes, I…"
"Go on – don't sweat it, ok? Just relax a little bit, I'm not mad at you."
"Very well. I was simply wondering if you had experience with dating?"
"Dating? Man, hit a sore spot why don't you!"
"I am sor-"
"Just kidding – really, Ayanami, loosen up a bit! Dating, huh? No, sadly, I haven't had the pleasure just yet. My dad thinks I'm too young, but I'm 14! He married mom when they were both 17 – he's such a hypocrite. I mean, I'd LIKE to go out with a guy sometime before I graduate high school, you know? I just… I'm kind of scared to just walk up and ask."
"I see."
"Is there someone you like, Ayanami?"
"Yes, there is."
"Are you going to ask him out?"
"…I am not sure."
"It isn't S-Suzuhara, is it…?"
"No."
"Oh, I thought… never mind, I'll just… your tea'll get cold, why don't you drink it?"
She gulps the rest of her tea and excuses herself to get more, leaving me wondering what I just missed. I dismiss her odd behavior for the moment, choosing instead to concentrate on what she had said about just walking up and asking someone out. To use Major Katsuragi's terminology – there was no way in hell I would ever do that.
Changing one's life is one thing.
Entirely restructuring it is another.
The question of why I am trying to change resurfaces, making me suddenly very tired. It is repetitive, irritating, and frustrating to have the same thought over and over again. I doubt very much that the Second ever allows doubts or uncertainties to weigh her down. She, I am sure, would just ask Ikari out without any question in her mind of why she was doing it, and for a very brief moment… I hate her for that.
When Hikari retakes her seat, however, I find that the truth is that it is myself that I dislike. The hatred I wake with every day returns, catching me off guard with its intensity and direction. Certainly not all of this rage could be self-targeted, could it? No, it was too rich – too potent and abiding to be entirely inward.
Wasn't it?
Our conversation resumes.
"So it's not Suzhara, huh? Is it anyone I know?"
"Yes."
"Gonna tell me who?"
"I would… rather not."
"Eh, fair enough, I guess. So that was your only question? Have I been on a date?"
"No. I would also like to ask how you know that you are ready to date."
"Hmm, well that's kind of a tough one. I don't know, I just – KNOW, I guess. I mean, whenever I see… the guy I like, I just want to be with him. I want to hold his hand and talk to him and… and kiss him – this is so embarrassing, I can't believe I'm telling you this!"
"So if you want to be with… that person, how would you ask him? You said that you will not ask him directly, so how would you approach it?"
"You know, I think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard out of you. Kidding! I'm just kidding, don't get all blank on me – it's creepy! Umm… how would I approach it? Well, that's something I can't really help you with."
"Why?"
"Duh – because I haven't done it! If I knew how, I would have done it by now."
"Oh."
"So… can I ask YOU something?"
"Yes."
"…can we be friends?"
Friends.
Hikari is offering me her hand – literally and figuratively – in friendship. I've come here to ask for help, an idea almost as farfetched as me crying, and received some of the answers I was looking for coupled with an outstretched hand. I can tell by the look in her eye that she will not be terribly hurt if I say no. In fact, it seems as if she is expecting me to say no, leaving her hand hanging over the table and excusing myself, now that I have the information I came for.
What embarrasses me to admit is that on most days, I would have done just that.
Of course, on most days I would not be here at all.
Slowly, I take her hand in mine, fully expecting some type of jolt of energy to flow up my arm – some mystical force sealing my life to hers – but there is nothing at all, not even a hint of static as our hands meet and shake over a table with two small teacups sitting on it. I pull my hand back as Hikari gives me a happy smile and asks if I want to see her room.
Following her, it occurs to me that if nothing ever comes of my interest in Ikari, I have already accomplished more in one day than I have in the past seven years.
I have acted on my own.
I have spoken to someone without having them speak to me first.
I have made a friend.
I have changed.
Even if I take not so much as a single step beyond this… I have changed.
Continued…
Authors notes: "Study, study, life is study." Not sure why, but this line from Goldenboy kept running through my mind as I tried to think of anything I wanted to note in this chapter. Clearly, since that's all I could think of, I don't have anything important to add. Such is life, I suppose.
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