DISCLAIMER, YO

I do not own Neon Genesis Evangelion; Gainax and Hideaki Anno do. I'm just a 16-year-old fanboy from Alaska.

I apologize if the last chapter was confusing. You have to understand that a confrontation like what happened was inevitable. I introduced Mana to make up for the fact that two major characters, Misato and Rei, are not present. Please read and review. Thanks. – C.o.W.

Chapter 7 – Behind Blue Eyes

Shinji Ikari had been absent for four months. He left no note. A police search of Tokyo-2 had proven useless. The disappearance brought incredible stress on everyone who had known him. Some, such as Ritsuko Akagi, worried about his health. Some, such as Mana Kirishima, missed him. Some, such as Asuka Soryu, loved him. In a way, Shinji had done this to get their attention. He had done many things in his life for recognition and attention. While he knew it was selfish, he reasoned that all people seek to gain acceptance by others.

Life moved on, however. There was no way it couldn't. The people around Shinji Ikari reasoned that he was far too… hopeful to do anything to get himself.

Touji, Hikari, and Kensuke moved into the apartment complex. Asuka regained the ability to walk, but she was rarely seen. Her life became tormented by her internal conflicting opinions of Shinji. She wanted to forgive him, but she was far too proud. Shinji had never done anything that had truly meant something to her. He had saved her life a few times, but she had repaid him… or had she? Mana became somewhat reclusive as well. Both girls were stricken with guilt. Mana felt bad for giving the boy a cold shoulder. Asuka's thunder faded when she realized that her inability to forgive Shinji had cost her a friend. School started up again. Touji, Hikari, Kensuke, and Mana attended the university where Kouzou Fuyutsuki was dean. Makoto Hyuuga tutored Asuka, mostly in kanji, which she still had trouble with. There simply seemed to be a very large hole in everyone's lives. Perhaps Shinji's kindness, his open-mindedness, or his gentle smile, was enough to draw people's attentions.

It was mid-November. Rain washed the buildings of Tokyo-2 somberly, as if it were apologizing. Japan was experiencing the coldest autumn since before the Second Impact. "It was an event that ruined some climes and changed others, including ours. It is most likely that nature is returning to equilibrium," Ritsuko had postulated.

Across the Pacific Ocean, rain also drenched the western coast of North America. It was in a small town in the American Northwest that Shinji now lived, alone in a miserable apartment that made Misato's old place in Tokyo-3 look like a mansion. Shinji had gotten a job as a library assistant. It was a relieving, stress-free job, despite the government-allotted pittance he received every month. Shinji was able to drastically improve his English and teach himself some of what he would have in high school. By this time, he had read scores of books. He also learned to walk again, which was quite gratifying. To keep up his fitness, he went on hikes. The town was especially rural, surrounded by misty, green mountains. When he went on a hike, he thought about his real home in Tokyo-2. He thought about Asuka a lot. After being in the town for three days, he saw something in a shop window that he realized would make an interesting gift for Asuka. He wasn't sure why he thought a gift would be appropriate, but something told him that Asuka would recognize, if not appreciate, it.

Sometimes, he felt genuinely happy. Other times, he was forced to swallow searing bouts of depression. He had nobody to care for other than himself. However, there was nobody to care for him, about him. He came to realize that he was often rather bipolar, either high on life or down in the dumps. This wore on him over time. It was around the exact four-month point that he realized that whether he was happy or not here, he was wasting his life. It had not occurred to him yet. How long would he play the martyr in the middle of nowhere? How long would he make others suffer for some stupid harebrained scheme of his?

"I can't keep this up," Shinji whispered to himself one rainy morning as he lay on his musty old bed. Getting up, he dragged himself to his suitcase, where he kept the rest of the money he had taken out of his bank account; Shinji had enough for a single plane ticket home. My real home, he considered. He took the public bus to the library, where he approached the head librarian, an older white man named Abe. Abe appreciated the hard work and persistent decent attitude of the soft-spoken young Japanese man. It was the kind of person that the States were lacking these days.

"Good morning, Abe," Shinji said distantly. "Can I talk to you in private?"

"Ayuh, sure. Just let's come to my office." Shinji followed the man to the poorly-lit back office.

"What's up, Mr. Ikari?" Shinji had always been amused that the Yankee head librarian pronounced his last name so that it rhymed with 'hickory'.

"It's time for me to leave." The most that he had ever told his employer was that he was on vacation, which the worldly Abe had personally refuted. Ikari was a stoic teenager who had left something behind in Japan, probably something unpleasant. Perhaps, the older man reasoned, he must now come to terms with his past. It is a noble thing to do.

"Ah, yes, I see. You are resigning then?"

"Yes, sir, I am. Thank you for the opportunity you've given me."

"Thank you for saying 'thank you'." This always drew a slight smile from the teen.

Without a whole lot more to say, the two men shook hands and exchanged modest goodbyes. Shinji made his way to his desk, where he put his own books, pencils, etc., into a duffel bag. With one last sweeping look over the shelves of books and bright murals, Shinji left the small-town library for the last time. The soft blue, kindly eyes of its keeper rested on Shinji as he made his way through the heavy glass front door.

The rain, as it was accustomed to doing in this region, fell to kiss the ground in large, clean drops. Shinji didn't need an umbrella; he enjoyed the pelting on his head; it was purifying. Besides, the tourists were the only ones in these parts that seriously used umbrellas. He had his suitcase outside the library. He picked it up and walked to the nearest bus stop. The tiny glass enclosure was grossly dirty and defaced, but this, like so much else, failed to faze the boy. He boarded the first bus destined for the grand west coast city of Seattle. Soon enough, the bus dropped him off outside the massive SeaTac complex. He bought a ticket to Tokyo-2 and waited for his plane. Within a matter of hours, he was in the sky, returning to the Land of the Rising Sun.

Shinji Ikari placed his lone suitcase in the airplane's bulkhead before flopping into his seat. The man next to him had dark, unkempt hair and rugged good looks; he looked to be in his earlies forties. His dark eyes carried a lively glint to them. The most surprising feature of the older man was a pair of dark gray muttonchops and a small handlebar moustache. Heh, Shinji thought, he reminds me of Kaji, without the facial hair, of course. Then again, Kaji always wore that silly beard stubble.

"Hello," the man said quietly.

"Good evening," Shinji replied.

The older man took a moment to scan the boy. He was lanky, with a boyish face and dark brown hair.

Their plane was headed directly for the Tokyo-2 airport. The older man said, "Are you going to Toyko-2?"

"Yes," Shinji replied, "I took… an extended vacation, you might say. What about you?"

"I'm also headed there. There are some old friends I need to catch up with; I've not seen them in years." The older man's eyes took on a misty look of wistfulness.

"You miss them?" Shinji asked sympathetically.

"I do, very much."

Shinji nodded in agreement. He had friends that he needed to catch up with, too.

"So," Shinji said, "Have you been living in Seattle?"

"No, actually. I've been a real-life world-class drifter since I left Japan."

"When did you leave?"

"A while before that big scuffle in Tokyo-3, where I was living. And you?" Shinji realized that the man had probably moved out along with Touji and his classmates.

"I've been living in Tokyo-2 for the last four years. I left four months ago for the states. I guess… I guess I needed to find myself."

There was something dark in the boy's eyes. Something very personal must have happened to make him flee a city as safe as Tokyo-2.

Meanwhile, Shinji had his thoughts on a package he had mailed three weeks before he had left the states. It was a gift, but not just any gift. It was a handmade Black Forest cuckoo clock. Shinji had saved up three weeks of pay to acquire the sturdy piece. There was only one person Shinji knew that could appreciate such a gift. He wondered if it had reached Apartment 501 yet…

Several Hours Later

The storm clouds hung over Tokyo-2. Asuka Langley Soryu was dozing off on the couch, watching a soap opera. Apartment 501 was a mess. Food and candy wrappers, crumpled papers full of lines of imperfect kanji, and articles of clothing of various degrees of cleanliness were strewn about haphazardly. Unfortunately, Asuka felt that she was "above" menial housework. Whenever Makoto came over to tutor her, she'd kick aside the garbage so he could walk to the table. More recently, he'd been having her over at his apartment to study, since he was offended by the mess. It was too much like the dorms at the university. He would shiver at the thought. They went to his place as quickly as they could, to avoid looking like a couple. The rumors would most certainly be grisly.

Asuka couldn't wait to have a certain tall, dark stranger (or, more accurately, a meek, apologetic stranger) clean up this pigsty. But for now, she was content to pig out and stare at the boob tube all day. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It was the delivery man, and it wasn't too often that Apartment 501 received packages. Interested, Asuka got up and waded over to the door. She was wearing a black-and-orange t-shirt and a short jean skirt.

Asuka opened the door slowly. It was a medium-sized package; she easily lifted it up and brought it in. The address was correct, but here was no return address. Instead, there was a cryptic message in the upper left corner of the top of the box:

From Your Admirer

This made her blush. At first she thought it might be Shinji, but the angry anti-Shinji part of her scolded herself. He's too stuck up to do anything for you! Excitedly, Asuka found a box cutter and quickly opened the package. She was stunned. What was inside made her eyes water. A tear fell from her face and hit the polished wood surface of a beautiful cuckoo clock.

She remembered the clocks like this, in Germany. Her mother had owned one, heavy, dark, and loud. Asuka had never been afraid of it. Instead, she had remembered it as a symbol, a symbol of patience and calmness that would, eventually, burst forth with happiness and joy. She needed happiness and joy. It was all she had ever wanted in her life. She had tried so hard to find happiness herself, when she could have let it come to her. Instead, she had rejected other's happiness. She had thought it was a sign of weakness, not finding one's own feelings. Asuka had never realized that sometimes, people lock themselves up in their independence, and thus never find happiness. She realized now that one person in particular wanted to give her this happiness, and she had rejected him.

Only that one person could have sent this, but who knew where he had vanished to?

The front door was still open. A shadow fell over Asuka and the gift. It was Mana Kirishima. The two had not spoken a single word since their spat. Slowly, Asuka looked up at the other girl with tears glistening in her sapphire-blue eyes. Seeing their wet sparkle, Mana gasped, and her eyes widened. Again, she didn't know whether to comfort Asuka or leave her to her own thoughts, her own feelings. She didn't have to make a decision, however, as Asuka stood and approached her. Mana, although afraid of what might happen, couldn't find the ability to back up. She stood completely still as Soryu clasped her hands around the other girl. They embraced as friends again.

"I am… loved," Asuka whispered, amazed.

"I-I am sorry," Mana said softly.

"I am sorry, too."

They continued their hug for a moment longer, until a male voice in the parking lot cleared its throat. The girls opened their eyes and looked up.

Now it was Asuka's turn to gasp. She stepped forward to embrace the young man, who held his lone suitcase. Her love… was home.