"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", Act 1 scene 5

Free Will
A Neon Genesis: Evangelion Story.

Chapter 2: The messenger, from a clear blue sky.

March 18, 2021, Tuesday. The day after Saint Patrick's Day. Twenty years had passed since Second Impact, and five since the third – not that anyone really remembered Third Impact. The world had lived and changed with hardly a ripple to indicate that it was ended and remade, only without Adam ever appearing. Nineteen-year-old Shinji Ikari was not officially old enough to drink, according to the laws of the United States, but that had hardly stopped him from allowing his friends to take him to a bar for the holiday. "The bar" was a little hole-in-the-wall pub in San Francisco called the Down Under. It was decorated with various Australian memorabilia, but it was a Thai bar, and frequented mostly by Asians. To make the cultural melting pot just a bit more striking, the previous night's slogan had been "Today, everybody's Irish!" Somewhere between Japan, Australia, Thailand, and Ireland Shinji had downed about half a dozen too many drinks over the course of the evening. Whatever that last one was – a Tokyo Mai Tai, or a Blue Elephant? Whichever it was, it seemed to be the likely candidate for why he had no idea how he got home. At any rate, he was blaming the Blue Elephant. It was a lousy name for a drink, anyway. He rolled off of his mattress on the floor of the single room he rented from a townhouse – on Uranus Ave, which drew no small measure of amused commentary from his friends. It was a small room, but he was grateful to have the space to himself. His father was a wealthy man and only too happy to pay for his son to attend university in America, but Shinji took as little money from Gendo Ikari as he could. The would-be "Savior of Mankind" much preferred a humble existence, getting by on his own merits.

Well, he certainly felt humble this morning. He staggered down the narrow hall and breathed a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening – whoever filled in for Dionysius when he was hung over, most likely – that the bathroom was free. It took a bit of yanking to get the door open and then closed again, as the building was quite old and many things no longer fit quite right. Normally, this suited Shinji fine, but at the moment he could hardly even see straight. The bathroom had been renovated by a previous occupant, who must have been some sort of eccentric artist as now the floor and walls were a mosaic of swirling colors and the ceiling resembled swirling, abstract clouds. Shinji had never met the person, whoever they were. He forced the bathroom window open with a muttered curse, shoving an empty toilet paper roll into the gap to keep it from falling shut, then reached into the little brick booth of a shower to turn on the hot water. He shed his clothes, wondering vaguely about the kanji characters for "big spender" being written on his forearms in sharpie, and finally stepped into the shower and let the rising steam carry him off to a much happier place. The water was too hot, turning his skin beet red in just a few moments, but he hardly minded. The heat felt good and helped clear his head. After a time, he reluctantly twisted the cold water handle, and then let out a yelp as the water turned to ice. Damned old plumbing, he thought. By the time he got the water to a reasonable warm temperature, he had finished shampooing his head one-handed, and fumbled around with his body scrub. Finally, he rinsed off with cold water, then turned it off and stepped carefully out of the shower onto the bath mat.

Wiping a hand across the steam-fogged mirror, Shinji was greeted by his own reflection. He had never become terribly tall, topping out at not quite five and a half feet tall, which was fairly average for Japanese men but quite short in America. As Toji Suzuhara had once so eloquently put it, Shinji had used to be "built like half a pipe cleaner." Though still rather slender, he had actually managed to fill out enough to add some lean muscle mass. He had never changed his schoolboy haircut, another thing that drew critical commentary from Toji, and his eyes were the same deep blue as sever. Suzuhara was always telling him to develop a sense of style, but Shinji still preferred jeans and polo shirts. He had never cared much about his appearance, though he was fairly meticulous about hygiene. He hated shaving, though. Fortunately, his "razor" – which had no actual blades, since they were all laser-based now – made it impossible to cut himself, but Shinji absolutely hated the smell of singed hair. He made his way back down the hallway in a towel, ducking into his room just in time to avoid Mary. She was one of his housemates, and a frustrated painter. He had no idea where she made her money, since it certainly was not selling paintings, but she was invariably up all night, and just going to bed when he was preparing to leave in the morning. She also had a worse temper than Asuka – well, on bad days at least – and delighted in making other people just a bit more miserable. Maybe avoiding her was a kind of running away, but to Shinji's mind it was just a survival tactic. She was just no fun to talk to. He hastily dressed, ending up with a dark green shirt and the same blue jeans as always, grabbed his book bag and digital music player, and headed back out into the hall. He locked his door, smirked again at the sign on it – a present from Misato – which read, in kanji, "Shin-chan's Room." Then he stepped into his shoes and was out the front door, locked it as well, and then went down the front steps to the sidewalk below. Their apartment was really the upper floor of an old townhouse, over a corner market. He stopped in to buy some light breakfast, then walked to the nearest MUNI – municipal mass transit station – and caught a ride closer to school.

He made it to class on time, and ended up sitting in the back of the lecture halls all day – he still had a touch of hangover, after all. He was not normally much of a drinker, especially on school nights, but every now and then everybody needs to cut loose. Still, the reminder that his fun had come at a price made it all seem a little less worthwhile. As for classes, he was enrolled in English, a few music and art classes, and a survey course of psychology. He really had no idea what he wanted to major in, so he had just been studying English to improve his speaking and reading skills, and then taking whatever else seemed interesting. History and mathematics were of no particular interest, though he did find himself curious about several types of science. Next semester, he planned to try at least one natural science and one life science. That might help him decide. Compared to the slow days of school back in Tokyo-3, school here seemed very fast-paced, and he actually managed to enjoy himself most of the time. Today he was a bit more subdued, and almost fell asleep once in his English class as he really could not see why Shakespeare was worth reading. The man did not write in any form of English Shinji could make sense of, and his plays all seemed to depend on confusing humor or contrived tragedies. He resolved to pick up a Japanese translation, and see if he could understand it a bit better then. He ate lunch at the student union, and afterwards salvaged some measure of contentment as he lost himself in an old favorite during his music class. The Ode to Joy had a bittersweet meaning attached to it, but he found it always soothed his spirits, despite whatever memories might be attached to it. Feeling much more collected, he went on to his Tai Chi practice after school and wound up feeling much more centered and at peace with the world around him by the time he had to go to work.

Shinji walked a short distance to one of the ten thousand or so coffee shops that littered the streets of the city, let himself in through the back door, and went to his locker in the employee lounge. He stowed his backpack and put on his apron, clocking in at five minutes to five o'clock. It was a subdued sort of place, at a glance. A very narrow store front opened up into a somewhat larger area with a bar along one side, with small round tables scattered about and a small podium in one far corner. You could actually only barely see the place from the street, as it was half hidden by a tree and the stairs of a neighboring building, and this had inspired the owner, who Shinji had never met, to call the place "The Hole in the Wall Café." There were a lot of potted plants, mainly flowers, and every wall was painted over with a mural. The owner – Shinji had only ever heard her referred to as "Daphne" – was a reasonably talented artist, and she had created cloudscapes on all of the walls, in a swirling, almost Van Gogh sort of style. The carpet was dark blue and the ceiling white, with most of the furniture dark stained wood. It would be a busy night, as Tuesdays and Thursdays were "open mike," meaning anyone could come in and sing, play music, or recite poetry. It usually drew a small crowd, and since the only other person working tonight was a blond girl named Nikki who seemed to spend as much time chatting with customers as actually serving them, Shinji expected to be rather busy this evening. He did not mind this so much, as it meant things would go by quickly, but he knew he would be tired by the time he got home.

Part of Shinji's growing sense of vague discontentment was centered in the fact that he was surrounded by people who he did not know. Oh, he could recall their names and faces, but he never held conversations with any of them. He had no idea who any of them were as people. Perhaps it was no surprise that he, who had circumstantially stood in judgment over all mankind, would find it hard to relate to others. The petty concerns of fingernails, casual sex, or gossip simply held no interest for him. Certainly he could understand frustration with life, but he no longer allowed it to consume him. The part which troubled him was that he seldom let anything consume his passions anymore. He had nothing to fight for, nothing to fear, but also nothing to live for. He simply existed in a state of moderate contentment, but without feeling engaged by his life, or even wholly fulfilled. Something was missing, and it was nothing he could simply identify. He had, of course, dated many people. He and Asuka had even tried to have a relationship, but it lasted only long enough for each of them to decide that they were being absolutely silly. She was back in Tokyo-3 and working for NERV again, now trying to improve the environment on a global scale. Sooner or later, he expected she would finish all the necessary school to add the word "Doctor" to the beginning of her name, but Shinji honestly had no idea how much further she needed to go with that. He was just glad she had found something to pursue that made her happy.

This brought him back to his problem. Toji, who was attending school nearby as well, insisted that Shinji needed to get laid. It was nothing so simple, though. Shinji was not unhappy. It was simply… how had Misato once put it? "Not the happiness I want?" While happy with who he was and finding meaning in existence, Shinji felt no connection to most other human beings. His friends were different, certainly, but they also had their own lives and concerns, and more importantly, none of them understood how he felt. For a brief, shining moment he had touched all other human minds, lives, and souls in existence. He had been part of everyone, even as they were part of him. Now, he was isolated, and unable to find any real connection. It was as if he had left some part of himself behind, chosen to become empty so that others could find their own completion. He supposed there was simply no real solution other than to adapt, and so he had. These were his thoughts as the night became increasingly busy, and streams of people poured into the coffee shop. As things became more hectic, Shinji forgot his earlier pensiveness and settled into the somewhat nerve-racking routine that is customer service. Every third customer or so had some particular stupidity that only manifested when ordering food or drink from him, and the lady that came in around a quarter past eight was no exception.

"Excuse me, young man?" She was an older woman, sixty or so, in a peacock blue coat and with a nose like a hawk's beak. Her voice reminded him of an impression he once heard Misato do of the "Queen of England." Shinji had no idea what the queen actually sounded like, but Misato's version had been rather snooty and overbearing.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked, trying to sound helpful.

"I ordered this latte with extra chocolate, but I don't think there's any chocolate in here at all. I asked for extra, not none." Shinji stared at the woman for a moment as another group of people slipped into the crowded room through the doorway behind her.

Distracted as he was by the frustrating woman in the ugly blue coat, Shinji hardly noticed when yet another person took their place at the mike and started to sing. He certainly did not notice that their voice was incredibly beautiful, or that most of the room had fallen silent to listen. He was too busy trying to get the irate customer a drink that would satisfy her, and she was rather determined not to be satisfied. So, as the voice sang, Shinji only partly heard the lyrics, in drifting snippets…

Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's here
Everyone's here
Everybody's watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next
What happens next

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's no chocolate in a latte," he explained. "Would you like to have a mocha instead?"

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

"No. If I wanted a mocha then that's what I would have ordered! I want a café latte with extra chocolate!"

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
Tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

"All right. Would you like me to add some chocolate to it for you, then?" Shinji finally turned to glance at the podium, picking up on the quieted room.

Then his heart seemed to stop and he suddenly felt as if he'd swallowed his tongue. He knew the person standing on the makeshift stage.

They were supposed to be dead.

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?

"Young man, are you listening to me! I said, I don't want you to add chocolate, I want a drink made with chocolate!" Shinji had no answer for her, so he just picked up a mocha that Nikki had made for someone else, who had then returned it and specified that they wanted a white mocha, and handed the drink to her.

"Here," was all he said, turning his full attention to the stage. Her protests seemed to fade out completely, and he watched as the singer turned to smile at him.

Looking directly at Shinji, the pale young man beamed cheerfully and sang the last line of the verse…

Salvation is here

The woman had left without paying for her drink, but Shinji could not have cared less. Instead, he just stared in surprise at the singer. It made sense, why had he not expected it? All the same, he knew he had not brought this person back. This person was not, nor had they ever been, a part of humanity.

No, this man was not like the others. This man was like no one Shinji had ever known before.

This man's blood was blue.

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened before

As the song concluded, the man gave a little bow and then made his way to the bar. The next person got up and began to recite poetry, recapturing the audience's attention. Conversation began again quite abruptly, but Shinji was still staring in silence.

"Good evening," the man said. "Did you enjoy the song, Shinji-kun?"

All Shinji managed was to stare a bit longer, and then say lamely, "K… Kaworu?"

To be continued…

Author's Comments:

Okay, I know I haven't updated this in a long, long time, but recent comments made me decide… what the heck? So, here's another chapter. I've decided to move Shinji's life forward a bit and give the world a chance to "settle" by advancing the timeline. Also, this allows for a different dynamic as the characters are adults instead of children. I realize that I haven't gone in any "bold new directions" so far, but I plan to do more with this than simply showcase a character relationship.