How oft it chances that in dreams a man
Has wed his mother! He who least regards
Such brainsick phantasies lives most at ease.
- Sophocles, Oedipus the King
Chapter Four: Chemicals
Asuka lay on the apartment floor in a rectangle of late afternoon sunlight, idly reading one of the magazines she'd borrowed from Hikari. The thing offered fashion tips she didn't need, love advice she didn't want and weight-control advice she'd never even heard of, but even so it was more interesting than the alternative, which was nothing. Shinji had been gone for over a month, of course, and Misato had been away for a couple of days. Probably with Kaji again, she sighed, gritting teeth together. Whatever. It's been so boring here lately.
Shaking her head, she flipped the page in the magazine and scanned the contents of the next. What guys think is sexy, she chuckled. Wait, suckers? Why would... oh. Her legs, absently kicking the air behind her, paused briefly before resuming their motion. Perverts. Vaguely amused despite her anger, she scanned down the rest of the list, finding it to be of comparable interest to the first item. As she read, the television babbled on.
"I must go, beloved. I must tell her."
"I can't bear to see you leave, but even less could I stand keeping such secrets. Will I see you in Kobe?"
"Of course, my dear. I will find you."
Turning another page, Asuka eyed the rail-thin models there with scorn before skimming an article comparing a handful of different body lotions. Hmm, cinnamon. That sounds like me.
As she continued, sound drifted through the apartment door from outside, a chattering female voice. Misato, she recognized, frowning. She brought someone home? Rage blossomed somewhere inside, lifting lips from her teeth. If that's Kaji, I'm going to rip her eyes out. It's not enough just to take him from me, but she has to rub it in, too? Seriously, if that's not the rudest...
The door slammed open, interrupting her thoughts. In the frame stood a grinning Misato, as she had expected, but the woman's companion was rather shorter and less charming than she'd assumed he would be, a face she hadn't thought to see for some time yet. Shinji?
"We're home," announced Misato unnecessarily, her cheerful voice grating on Asuka's nerves like sandpaper on skin. Beside her, Shinji was smiling as well, though nervously; he kept his eyes on the floor as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door. Misato stepped around him, hanging her red beret on a hook.
"In love with her? I knew it. What about Shanghai? Barcelona? All those times, they meant nothing to you?"
"They meant the world to me, Sayuri. I love you, but she completes me."
Blinking, Asuka climbed to her feet. "They let you go so soon?" she asked of the other pilot curiously. "I thought the Eva just spat you out yesterday." Slowly she began shuffling in his direction.
"It did," he admitted, vaguely embarassed. "I wasn't hurt, though, so Ritsuko just ran a few tests on me and told me to go home."
She stopped, frowning. "You weren't hurt," she repeated flatly. Something fitful and murky swirled in the depths. "Not at all?"
"No," he shrugged, giving her a wan smile. "I'm totally fine."
Asuka felt a familiar snarl form on her face. He's stuck in that fucking beast for a month, not even in substantial form, and he's not hurt at all? Invincible Shinji is never hurt! Invincible Shinji doesn't need anybody to help him get better!
"How could you, Kenzo? I trusted you, but you hurt me. You've shattered me."
"Asuka?" Shinji's face crinkled in worry.
"You... you idiot!" she snarled, stalking towards him. "You deserved to be in there! If you hadn't run away again, none of that would have happened!" She punctuated her words with a full-armed slap.
He jerked, touching his cheek, but glared right back at her. "I didn't run away!" he protested. "I quit. You saw what my father did to Touji."
"I did see," she agreed crisply, "and you know what? It couldn't be helped. The guy was inside an Angel, you moron; what did you expect us to do? He's lucky he's even alive. You don't see me blaming him for letting his Eva fight me, do you?" Shinji blinked as though he'd never even considered this, but she didn't allow him a chance to speak. "But no, you had to run away, then watch Wondergirl and me get dismembered before you finally deigned to fight again. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have your arms cut off?"
"Of course I do!" he yelled back. "I lost one in that fight!"
Oh. Right. "Well, whatever. I have no pity for whatever happened to you in there."
His eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask for your pity, Asuka," he answered quietly.
She snorted. "For once."
Shinji stiffened, then turned without a word and strode for his room. She watched him go, glaring.
"She's no good for you, you know. She'll bring you only pain."
"I know."
"Her family, too. They won't stand for this, Kenzo. They'll ruin you. They'll tear you apart."
"I know. My heart is my tragic weakness."
Misato was still standing near the door, one eyebrow raised; she hadn't moved a muscle during the argument. Eventually she shook her head, lips compressed into a disapproving line. "Nice, Asuka," she sighed, heading to her own room. "Very nice."
"Very nice," mimicked Asuka under her breath, turning back to her magazine and flopping to the floor. "Jerks."
"...of course, and even after the Valentine's Day Treaty there remained sporadic fighting, but nothing on the scale of the preceding wars. It is estimated that a mere seventy million died in the skirmishes and bombings that followed, but the sweeping UN reforms taking place allowed..."
Shinji sat slumped in his desk, staring at the screen of his laptop without seeing much of what was displayed there. His eyelids threatened to slide shut again, but desperately he bit the inside of his cheek, trusting the pain to keep him awake a few moments longer. He'd not been sleeping well after being stuck in Unit-01 for so long, and the two long nights since then had caught up with him. Maybe I could just hold my breath until I pass out, tonight, he chuckled ruefully. No dreams that way, hopefully.
Abruptly a message appeared on his screen in giant red characters. Wake up, idiot!
Asuka, he sighed, rubbing palms against his eyes. Since he'd come home, she had alternated between yelling at him and ignoring him, though every now and then she acted like a normal person, like she couldn't always remember she was supposed to hate him. Opening his eyes, he spared a glance to where she sat, but she kept her gaze firmly on her own screen as though he weren't there. So today is an ignoring day, he concluded, relieved. Really, she wouldn't be half as bad if I didn't have to live with her.
Resting his chin on a hand, he stared dully towards the front of the room, though before long his eyes drifted sideways, to the windows. It's nice out, he noted; trees swayed whimsically, leaves fluttering to a breeze just strong enough to keep the heat at bay, or at least it had been that way in the morning. I can see why Ayanami prefers the window to the lecture. The view blurred and dimmed as his eyelids tried to stealth their way shut once more.
The ringing of the bell jolted him back awake, heart pounding. Lunch, he realized, sagging in relief. Though he was not particularly hungry, the break would be a welcome distraction, and might wake him up somewhat.
Rising on leaden legs, he packed his notebook away and pulled the backpack straps over his shoulders. Most of the other students beat him out the door; once into the hallway he dragged himself towards the stairs.
When he emerged on the roof, it was hotter than he'd anticipated, the constant wavy heat of the sun on impermeable human-made surfaces. Grimacing as sweat broke out on his forehead, he made his way to the corner where Kensuke already sat, slurping down some instant noodles he'd prepared earlier. Asuka and Hikari were there as well, their backs to him; with Touji still out and Shinji himself missing for some time, the three had apparently started eating together more often, which meant Kensuke loathed Asuka even more now than he had before.
His roommate was talking as he approached. "...can be such a bitch," she announced shrilly. "I mean, she's never around, basically just to sleep, shower, eat and change so she can go see Kaji again."
Kensuke grunted, adjusting his glasses. "She has a busy job," he shrugged, "and you guys are old enough to take care of yourselves. What's the problem? It doesn't sound like you want her around anyway, so why complain?"
"Well, I don't..." Asuka paused, turning around as she finally heard Shinji approaching. Her features cooled. "Lunch?"
He nodded, dropping his bag at his feet so he could root around inside it, shortly producing a wrapped box. He'd started making her lunches as soon as he was allowed to go home, hoping it would make her easier to live with, but he had not noticed any such effect.
Asuka grabbed the thing from his hands before he could give it to her. "You walk like a zombie, idiot," she declared, opening the lunchbox without looking at him. "Don't make me wait out here in the heat next time." Hikari and Kensuke exchanged guarded glances.
Shinji felt his hands ball into helpless fists. Forget this, he decided tiredly. I don't need to take that from her. Saying nothing, he retrieved his backpack from the roof, turned, and left them there.
Hikari's soft voice floated after him. "That was mean, Asuka. He's trying to be nice to you."
Whatever the German said in response, he could not hear it. Probably for the best, he reflected as he slid around the door, back into the air-conditioned shade of the school.
Now what? wondered Shinji, strolling aimlessly through the halls. Out on the grass, maybe; it'll be cooler there. Maybe I can catch up on some of that make-up work, if it doesn't put me to sleep again. He sighed. The teacher had gone easy on him with the homework he'd missed, but a month's worth of work, even light work, was still enough to make him want to curl into a ball and whimper. It'll get done whenever I get to it, I suppose.
Shortly he reached another exit, one to the school grounds, and pushed through it. More students sat around outside, mostly in groups, though a lone figure under a tree caught his attention. Ayanami.
He stopped where he stood, frowning at her. She was right, he realized. She's actually nice to me. Not like Asuka. Shaking his head, he crossed the sun-drenched grass to the leaf-shade where she sat.
Ayanami glanced up as he approached, red eyes blinking, jaw pausing in mid-chew. Breeze ruffled her hair as she continued to stare at him.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, unable to put much inflection into his voice. Her wordless gaze no longer made his skin crawl as it used to.
She blinked at him again, glancing at the waving grass next to her and back up again. After a moment she resumed chewing, returning her attention to the fruits and vegetables she'd brought for her own lunch.
She didn't say no, noted Shinji, shrugging out of his backpack and sliding down the tree trunk beside her. "Thank you."
Ayanami swallowed. "For what?" The breeze almost smothered her soft words.
He shook his head, unwrapping his own lunch and digging into it. The spiced noodles he'd made in the morning, now at an unfortunate room temperature, settled his angry stomach slightly. Somewhere nearby, a cicada buzzed into the comfortable silence.
"Do you not usually sit with others?" asked Ayanami once he was nearly done.
Shinji felt his eyes widen as he stared off across the grass, chewing a mouthful of noodles. She actually asked me a question, he chuckled. Though she has before, I suppose, when she asked about me cleaning her place. "I do," he agreed.
"Why are you not with them now?" Though she spoke to him, her attention looked to be solely on peeling the orange in her lap.
"Asuka was there," he explained, letting his head rest against the tree trunk. "I didn't feel like an argument."
Ayanami remained silent for a moment, popping an orange slice into her mouth. Eventually she spared him a sidelong glance. "She is often unkind to you." Her voice gave no hint as to whether this upset her or not.
He shrugged. "She's just... I don't know. I just try to ignore her." Closing his eyes as the breeze picked up again, he attempted to think of a more elaborate answer. "When she makes fun of me, it's annoying, but it's not that big of a deal. She's not nearly as bad as F... as the Commander." Why did I tell her that? he wondered vaguely, frowning. She doesn't want to hear my sob stories.
Moments slid past, and Ayanami did not answer. Opening his eyes, he glanced at her, but she was simply staring at him. Perhaps noticing this, she soon returned her attention to the orange. Whatever she thought of what he'd said, her face gave no sign of it.
Sighing, he ate the last bit of noodles in the box, then folded the thing back up and tucked it into his bag. I've said too much, he decided sadly. Maybe I should just go.
"You are tired," observed Ayanami.
Shinji nodded. "I've had a hard time sleeping," he explained quietly. "Does that ever happen to you?"
She gazed back at him without expression. Distant shouts floated over the breeze, and in response she turned her attention to where a handful of kids were scrounging together a game of soccer. "Only when I've already had too much."
Of course, he agreed wryly. I don't think anything could upset her enough to make her lose sleep. She's too grounded.
"I think you are trying too hard," added Ayanami a moment later.
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I... don't know."
Shinji felt his brow furrow further. Trying too hard? If I relaxed at all, I'd fail at everything, instead of just some things. As he tried to think of an answer, however, the appearance of Kensuke at the school doors spared him the need; his friend spotted him immediately and hurried across the grass to where the two of them sat.
"Shinji," he panted. "You okay, man? You looked like you were going to strangle Asuka back there. Not that I would have tried to stop you."
Laughing despite himself, Shinji nodded. "I just didn't want to sit there. Sorry about that."
"Hey, no problem," dismissed the other kid with a bland wave. "Checking on you gave me an excuse to get out of the conversation about how dumb we all are anyway."
Shinji smiled, then blinked. "Wait. You hurried over here, but didn't leave until after you finished eating?"
"Yeah. So?" Kensuke eyed him, pushing glasses up on his nose. "I'm no Touji, but even I'm not going to leave a meal half-eaten to check on someone." Putting hands in his pockets, he started wandering back towards the school.
Shinji stared after him, shaking his head. My friends are weird.
After a moment he leaned back against the tree once more. Ayanami had finished her meal, he saw, but had not yet gotten up; instead she sat with hands in her lap, watching him without expression. "What is it?"
She shifted to regard the retreating Kensuke. "Your friend is no longer with Sohryu."
He chewed a lip briefly until her meaning sunk in. "Oh. Yeah, I know," he agreed, dreading the next question.
"Why did you not return with him?"
Shinji stared at his open hands, grimacing. This is awkward. How do I...? Quickly he dared a peek at the other pilot, but she was only sitting there, patiently awaiting her answer. There was no accusation in her eyes, no judgement, just a faint light he assumed to be curiosity.
For some reason he found himself unable to look away. She'll accept my answer no matter what it is, he realized. It won't bother her. She's... the only person I know like that. I... I think I need that. Someone who wouldn't hurt him, who wouldn't mock or exploit his weaknesses. It's too bad she doesn't like to talk to people.
Abruptly recalling she was still waiting for him to reply, he swallowed, aware that he'd just been staring into her eyes, and glanced away. "It would have been rude," he explained weakly, "just to leave like that. I thought I'd stay here a bit, if that was okay."
Ayanami nodded, satisfied with his answer. "Thank you."
Shinji felt his eyes open wide; it was an effort not to slide right off the tree trunk and fall to the grass. She thanked me? he wondered. Just for sitting here? Or for being polite? From anyone else, he would have shrugged it off, but she was too reserved for the words not to stick out in his mind.
Swallowing, he studied her sideways, out of the corners of his eyes, but she only sat there, idly cleaning sticky orange residue from her fingers with a napkin. Her cheeks held a faint shade of pink, though.
Oh, man. There she goes again. She actually likes spending time with me. The thought was almost incomprehensible to him, that someone could share his company and not walk away disgusted; he was still getting used to it with Kensuke and Touji. Or... probably just Kensuke now, he reflected with a sigh.
Ayanami must have sensed his scrutiny for she paused and met his gaze, crimson eyes inscrutable. The blush slowly faded from her cheeks.
He swallowed again, uncertain how to proceed with this new information, acutely aware of the sweat now lining his palms. I have to... have to do something. Have to ask something. "Ayanami?"
Her expression shifted slightly, but became no more readable.
"Are you... has your..." Shinji paused, clearing his throat and glancing away. "Is your place still clean, or has it gotten all dirty again?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. Why does it always come back to that? I sound like an idiot. Asuka is right. Whatever joy he felt at realizing she enjoyed his company was extinguished like a snuffed candle.
Whatever Ayanami was doing, he could not see, but she did not speak for some time. I'm a dumbass, he decided wearily. I should just go, for real this...
"It is... dirty again," she admitted, quietly even by her standards.
Shinji frowned, uncertain whether to be insulted at her neglect or pleased at the opportunity it presented. Opening his eyes again, he examined the other pilot briefly, but she was just staring at her lap. She's just like me. "If you want," he sighed, "I could come over and clean again. Or... spruce the place up or something." Vaguely it struck him that he ought to be nervous, asking her such a thing, but his general weariness, not to mention the stifled anger after his encounter with Asuka, made this suggestion seem trifling, hardly worth the effort to worry over. It's not like I'm asking a girl out, he reflected distantly. It's just Ayanami, so it's... well, she is a girl, but not...
"Spruce?" she repeated after a moment.
"Oh. Yeah, like decorating."
"I would like that."
He blinked as her words sunk into his foggy awareness. She would? Risking another glance in her direction, he watched as she neatened her bookbag without looking at him, though the thing did not seem to need it. "When?" he wondered.
Ayanami's hands paused, and her eyes flickered towards his. "I have no obligations today save for school."
Today? Shinji felt his brow shift in doubt. "I have homework," he recalled with a sigh, "but it's not like I'm going to finish it all tonight. I could head over there this evening, probably."
His companion inclined her head slightly, murmuring assent. The breeze stirred again, tugging her hair playfully.
"Okay," he nodded. This is weird. As he stared across the school grounds, the students outside shifted, gradually filtering back inside. "Class will be starting soon," he realized with an inward groan. I hope I can stay awake this time. "We should go back in."
"Yes."
Asuka slid open the door to the apartment, muttering. Cleanup duty, she sneered. Eva pilots shouldn't have to do that crap. Do they think we're not busy enough as it is? Even after the walk home, her hands still felt gritty and wrinkly from all the soap and water. Better water than LCL, she decided with a shake of her head.
As soon as she entered the apartment, a warm, saliva-inducing aroma tickled her nostrils. Pausing in the act of sliding her shoes off, she tilted her head. Steak? she wondered. A rarity in Japan, but Shinji could cook it well, she'd learned. He cooked everything well. It's a little early for dinner, but at least the idiot's making himself useful.
Smiling faintly, she kicked her other shoe off and trotted into the apartment. He was in the kitchen, of course, in his signature apron; he turned as she approached, steel spatula in one hand.
"Hey," she greeted. "What brought..." Before she could finish the question, however, it died on her lips; there was something... different... about Shinji. What it was, she had trouble identifying. He still stood there unmoving, a confused expression on his face that grew slowly more exaggerated as the silence stretched. A shade of cool anger darkened his cobalt eyes as well; was that it? No, I've seen him angry before.
"Asuka?" he prompted.
Abruptly realizing she was staring, she bared her teeth and advanced on him. "What are you staring at?" she asked in a low, menacing voice. "Get a good look? Not that I'd let you touch, perv."
Shinji's brows drew down in restrained anger and perhaps a little scorn. Wordlessly he turned back to the stove and poked a steak tentatively with the spatula.
Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, Asuka stalked to her room and slammed the door. Hotshot. Too good to argue back? Shrugging out of her backpack, she let the thing drop with a thump to the floor, then buried herself in an old college physics textbook. If he should happen to peek inside when letting her know the food was ready, she decided, she would ignore him, pretending to be engrossed in the text.
Long moments slid past in a silence broken only by the muffled sounds of cooking, the sizzling of the meat, a bubbling she assumed to be boiling water. There had been times when he would hum while cooking, but she had not heard him do so for some time.
Sighing angrily, she tried to put the idiot and his stupid melancholy out of her mind, and instead focused on the book. Despite her deliberate attention, however, the words there blurred together, the graphs and equations swimming into jumbles free of the meaning she'd learned from them years ago.
Eventually a single knock sounded from her closed door. "Food's ready, Asuka," came Shinji's flat voice.
Gritting her teeth, Asuka ignored him, waiting a good five minutes before leaving the privacy of her room. The Third Child was already eating when she reached the table, face mild and impassive, ignoring her as he sliced delicately into his own steak.
Idiot. He doesn't even like steak. Scowling, she claimed a seat around the table from him and dug into her own food. It was delicious, of course; he'd even cooked green beans with some sort of tangy lemon sauce. God damn it. He seldom made Western-style meals, only on occasions when she suspected he wanted to apologize for something, or thought she would need a pick-me-up or some such. He was being magnanimously condescending again, or as Hikari would call it, "nice."
She just doesn't get it, sighed Asuka. Then again, Hikari would side with him. The two were a lot alike, she reflected, given to helping others. Too trusting of people with power. Though not everyone with power, she amended thoughtfully. Not Commander Jackass. I don't know anyone who trusts him, apart from Wondergirl. If I were Shinji, I'd hate him too. I'd just whine about it less.
Shaking her head, she swallowed a mouthful of some flaky bread or other. Whatever. "Hey idiot," she murmured absently. "Gimme the butter. This bread is good." I'm the only sane one in this mess, apparently.
"Oh," he answered happily. "Sure. Here."
The rest of the meal transpired in silence. Shinji, having started before Asuka, finished before her as well. After quickly scrubbing his dishes clean, he disappeared into the rest of the apartment.
Just as she was swallowing the last of her steak, however, he reemerged with his backpack stuffed full of chemicals and cleaning supplies, and carrying, of all things, both Misato's broom and mop, though they may as well have been Shinji's for all the woman used them.
What the hell? wondered Asuka, jaw paused in mid-chew as she watched him edge towards the door without meeting her gaze, a shifty look on his face. "Where are you going?" she wondered aloud.
He paused, frowning at her. "What?"
Grimacing, she swallowed the mouthful of food and tried again. "I said, where are you going?"
Caution fell over Shinji's features. "To... a friend's place."
"Touji is still in the hospital," pointed out Asuka flatly. "Kensuke wouldn't even let you into his apartment if he saw you showing up with all that cleaning stuff. You don't have any other friends."
He scowled. "Go ask Section Two if you care so much," he muttered, pulling open the door and striding out into the hall.
Asuka frowned after him as the door slowly shut. That's a good idea, she realized, surprised.
Smirking, she pulled out her cell and dialed up one of the preset numbers. She had no authority to learn anything from Section Two, but she knew someone who did.
The other end rang for some time before anyone picked up. "Asuka, what is it?" asked a high female voice, her words partially smothered by the rippling of wind into the phone. A man's fractured voice was laughing somewhere nearby.
"Hello, Misato," she greeted cheerfully. She's with Kaji again, isn't she? Bitch. "Shinji just ran off, and I don't know where to find him. I'm worried. Could you find out where he's gone? I don't think he'd answer if I called him."
There was a pause from the other end of the line as the wind continued to blow wherever Misato was. In a car, maybe? "Did he just leave?"
"Uh-huh. He can't have gone very far."
"Don't worry about it, Asuka. Section Two will watch him; I'll have them report to me whenever he stops moving."
Asuka smiled into her phone. "Thank you, Misato!"
Rei lay on her bed, chin propped in her hands, legs sprawled out behind her. In the sweaty distance, as always, rang the steady rhythm of construction equipment. Afternoon sunlight shone through dust-stained windows and drawn blinds, painting her room a vaguely reddish hue.
Ikari will be here soon, she reflected. At the thought, a gentle tingle fluttered up through her stomach, an unfamiliar sensation. What is this? she wondered. It's like fear, but not. Why? I don't fear Ikari.
Unbidden, her eyes shifted sideways to the clutter on her floor once more; unwashed clothes had piled near the wall, a variety of torn and empty wrappers lay near the overfull garbage, and piles of homework she had no plans ever to do had slid from the desk to the floor. Her lips tightened at the sight. It's... not right, she decided. He should not have to expend extra effort to account for my carelessness.
Smoothing her features, Rei folded arms over her pillow and lay her head on them, gazing motionless at the wall. A bead of sweat had gathered behind her kneecap and slid silently down her leg to the sheets.
Waiting was something she knew. Something she did well.
Eventually a soft knocking issued from the door. "Ayanami?" came Ikari's quiet voice, further muted by the wood as he pushed his way inside. "I'm coming in."
Pushing herself upright, Rei slid to the floor and padded over to see him. Her fellow pilot had arrived bristling with cleaning tools, she saw with a frown; how much did he intend to get done before he left?
Ikari had smiled at her approach, but now he paused, staring around the place uncertainly. "There's more to do than I remember," he observed softly. "We'll have to work quickly."
We? she wondered, watching him doff his shoes and begin to root through his supplies. I suppose it would be better if I helped.
Squatting on his heels, Ikari chewed his bottom lip. "I can pick up," he decided, "if you want to sweep, and then one of us can mop while the other does dishes over there."
Rei nodded, retrieving and inspecting the broom he'd brought. It was a cheap plastic thing, not much different from the one at the school.
As he produced a black bag and began to toss excess rubbish into it, she chose a relatively open spot on the floor and began to sweep. Her progress would depend on his, she realized; she could not sweep much of what he had not cleared first.
Quickly they settled into a rhythm; Ikari would pick up trash and she would sweep in his wake, pausing on occasion to dump a dustpan into his bag. Her dirty clothes soon went into a pile on the bed and the spare papers on the floor wound up back on the desk.
As they worked, Ikari began to spare her sidelong glances, perhaps when he thought she wouldn't see. Eventually he cleared his throat. "Ayanami, why don't you ever clean here? We've had cleaning duty together at school so I know you know how."
Rei frowned at the broom in her hands, then at him. "The school is a place for many people," she explained, "but this place is just for me to live in." And no one has instructed me to clean it.
His face wrinkled at her words, and for a time he only gazed at her mutely. Then he sighed, glancing off towards the dishes piling in her sink under a swarm of tiny fruit flies. "Do you want to mop or do the dishes?"
"I'll mop," she answered without hesitation, retrieving the bucket and trotting into the bathroom to fill it. Ikari had already begun on the dishes when she emerged, so she began alone, swabbing the dripping mophead in patient loops across the floor. It really is dirty, she realized as she worked. Why did I not notice that before?
She finished her task before Ikari completed his, so after setting the mob aside to dry, she stepped up next to him at the sink. He jumped in surprise, not having heard her approach over the sounds of the water.
Blue eyes blinked at her from less than a meter away, but shortly he sagged in apparent relief. "Ayanami," he breathed. "You startled me."
"Why?" she wondered. I'm the only other one here.
He shook his head. "Can you dry the ones in the rack here?" he suggested, gesturing with an elbow to where a set of mismatched plates dripped.
Without answering Rei plucked the towel from his shoulder and did as he asked. The work was simple enough, though the towel was vaguely damp when she started and grew more so as she went on. In the cupboards above, a stack of clean and dry plates slowly grew.
Before long Ikari pulled the drain plug; murky suds shifted, and the water level began a gradual decline. Drying his hands absently, he frowned around the apartment. "Does this building have its own laundry?"
Rei hesitated. "I... I don't think so."
He lifted an eyebrow at this, then glanced worriedly at the bed. "I passed a laundromat on the way here," he recalled, speaking slowly. "If you have some baskets, or even bags or something, we can go there."
"I have that basket," she answered, shifting her gaze to a rectangular one in a corner. Before now it had served only to store dirty school uniforms and gather dust.
"That's... a start," acknowledged Ikari with a frown. "Let's wrap your sheets around that pile on them, then stuff the whole thing in there as best we can."
Rei eyed him in question. "Sheets?"
"Yeah," he answered without inflection. "Don't you wash them?"
People do that? she wondered, vaguely irritated by his tone.
"Never mind," decided Ikari with a shake of his head. He headed towards the bed and Rei followed, tugging sheet corners free. In moments they had produced, in effect, a large wrapped ball of laundry to be washed. Ikari attempted to stuff it into the basket, then lifted the thing, arms wrapped around it awkwardly.
Turning her back on him, Rei made for the door and then for the stairs, waiting to make certain Ikari kept up. Once on the street, he struggled visibly with the basket; though it was not particularly heavy, she imagined its size made it unwieldy to handle. "Do you want help?"
Ikari offered a weak smile. "That would be nice," he admitted.
Without asking Rei took one end of the basket and they carried it between them. With the weight, her balance was off, but not terribly.
In moments they reached the laundromat, a gaudily-labelled place with buzzing lights overhead and a chemical-clean smell in the air. Only one other person was in evidence inside, an overweight older man absorbed in reading a sports magazine.
Ikari produced a box of detergent he'd brought along and began dumping it into a handful of open washers. Rei watched him briefly, then set into dividing the laundry among the empty machines he'd chosen.
"Not like that," he instructed quietly as she started; the man in the corner glanced up at the voice, then returned to his magazine. "You have to put like things with like things."
Rei paused, hands grasping the skirt of a wrinkled school uniform. "How?"
"Well," he began pleasantly, "if you wash dark things with light things, for example, the colors can bleed and stain your lights. Also, things you expect to be especially unsanitary like... um, undergarments and socks... you wash in hotter water that might damage your other clothes."
"Oh." That is reasonable.
"Yeah," he shrugged, tugging the uniform gently from her grasp. "So... darks in this one, delicates in that one, sheets and towels in that one, and everything else here. Got it?"
Rei nodded, watching her companion. She was mildly surprised at how relaxed he now seemed; perhaps teaching another about things he knew well had reassured him somehow. He is pleasant company, she realized for the second time this day, averting her eyes.
Ikari did not notice, absorbed as he was in adjusting the settings on the washers and starting them. Shortly he nodded to himself. "Let's go."
She blinked. "Where?"
"To a store," he answered, watching her reaction. "We need to buy some things. More laundry baskets, for one."
She waited, and he shortly headed out the door. She accompanied him.
A short and silent train ride brought them to a department store Rei had never even seen before. Like at the laundromat, few people were in evidence; though none spared Ikari a second glance, many stared openly at her, something she had grown long used to in unfamiliar places. She ignored them in any case.
Ikari directed her to a portion of the store that contained laundry baskets. Rei chose three at random and they continued.
"Here," he said later, stopping and glancing around.
Rei stopped as well, examining their surroundings. Aisles stretched in either direction, full of curtains, bedding and the like. "Why here?"
"Some of your things are so dirty it might be better just to replace them," he explained. "At least... assume you're not... attached to any of them. Are you?"
To curtains? She frowned at him.
Ikari smiled weakly and wandered down an aisle; she followed uncertainly. Shortly he glanced at her sideways. "Ayanami, what colors do you like?"
She pondered this briefly. "I like blue," she decided. "And white."
"Blue and white," he echoed thoughtfully. "How about this one?" he asked, pointing.
Ikari had selected white curtains edged in pale blue, with stitched flowers along the edges. "It is floral," noted Rei.
He hesitated. "Don't you like flowers?"
"They are useless."
"You... oh." He slumped somewhat, then nodded at another set. "Kittens?"
"Cats remind me of Dr. Akagi."
Ikari made a face at this, then pointed again. "Butterflies?"
Rei pondered this, then shrugged.
Her companion smiled and grabbed a plastic-wrapped package from under the display set. "What about blinds?" he asked, starting down the aisle again. "We can just clean your old ones, but if you want new ones this is the place to get them."
She shrugged again. "What I have is acceptable if it can be cleaned."
Ikari nodded and kept walking. And walking, and shopping. Rei did not keep track of the time they spent shopping, but as they approached the registers at the front of the store, she suspected her laundry was ready to be switched.
The woman scanning their merchandise smiled faintly at them, though Rei could not understand why. When the total popped up, however, Ikari froze in the act of reaching for his wallet, then slowly wilted. "Ayanami," he said quietly, "I... we might have to split this. How much money do you have?"
"I don't know," she realized, reaching for her NERV id. She had never bothered to inspect the account her pilot pay went into, only paid for things she needed, and there had never been any problems.
As she handed the card over, the cashier accepted it in hands that shook slightly. The young woman ran it through the reader and watched as the approval message popped up. She handed the card back quickly and did not make eye contact again.
When they left the store, twilight had displaced the afternoon. Under a purpling sky, streetlights left fuzzy cones of pale illumination through the damp air. In silence they began the walk towards the train stop, laden with bags.
Eventually Ikari sighed. "I'm sorry, Ayanami. I was hoping I could pay for that."
"Why?" she wondered, vaguely curious.
He shifted uncomfortably. "I just... I feel like I invited myself over, and then just turned out to be a burden."
"You did invite yourself over," she pointed out.
Ikari chuckled, though she suspected he was not amused. "I just... I don't know. You know what I mean."
"I don't," she clarified, keeping her gaze on the sidewalk ahead. "Should I be upset?"
"I'm... not really sure," he admitted. "Some people might be, I suppose."
Rei considered that momentarily, but could not understand why it might be. She kept her questions to herself, however, as Ikari seemed unable to explain what he meant.
When they reached the laundromat once more, the older fellow had disappeared, but a couple of older teens had taken his place, the girl sitting inappropriately on the boy's lap as they spoke in low murmurs. Ikari paid them no attention, instead beginning to switch the laundry over. Rei put her bags down and helped. Once the driers were tumbling, her companion slumped into a nearby seat, wiping sweat from his brow.
She was sweating as well, Rei realized; though she was accustomed to walking, she seldom did so much of it in one day, and the store had been a fair distance from the train stop. The day's wet heat had not helped matters either. Claiming the seat next to Ikari, she folded hands in her lap and stared at them. "Why are you helping me?"
Ikari shifted, but she could not see his face. "I'm... didn't we talk about this?" When she did not answer, he shifted again, but continued. "I want... I don't know." He sounded suddenly tired. "I want you to be happy, and it would make me happy if someone did this for me."
There it is again, she noticed, that sparkling tingle in her stomach, her throat, though this time a pleasant warmth accompanied it. Her hands, she saw, were toying with the fabric of her dress and she stilled them. "Thank you," she offered quietly.
Clothing rustled as he nodded, presumably, but he did not reply. As the silence stretched, she risked a sideways glance, but Ikari's eyes were closed.
Is he sleeping? she wondered, watching him. Time ground past without any movement on his part, and she concluded that he had indeed succumbed to slumber. Odd. He claims he has had trouble sleeping recently, but it didn't take him long.
Patiently she continued to watch him, curious to see if he would wake shortly, but he did not. After a time the other couple stood to switch their single load of laundry, but Ikari did not stir.
He looked different from when he was awake, she realized. The tightness she had often seen around his eyes was absent now, and a hidden tension in his shoulders had likewise disappeared. Though he was not smiling, he was not frowning. He looked... relaxed, she decided, would be the word for it.
Is he dreaming? I wonder if he dreams of me. As his chest shifted slightly with every breath, the warmth in her middle remained, and it occurred to her that she enjoyed watching him sleep there.
Eventually their driers started beeping, signaling the imminent completion of their work, and Ikari jerked awake, staring first at the machines and then at Rei. "I'm... I fell asleep, didn't I?" he mumbled, blinking.
She nodded. "You barely moved."
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he stretched and rose to his feet. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "That was rude of me."
"Why was it rude?"
He shook his head without looking at her, instead tending to the dryers to make them stop beeping. "When you're... I guess hanging out with people, it's not polite to fall asleep because then they can't, um, enjoy your... your company." He finished quietly, swallowing, as he dumped armfuls of fresh-smelling linens into one of the new baskets.
She tilted her head. "Can I not enjoy the company of one who is sleeping?"
Ikari chuckled, though this time he seemed pleased. "I suppose so."
Rei watched him for a time, but he seemed unwilling to meet her gaze. "I thought you were unable to sleep well. At least you got some."
"Yeah," he answered after a moment, sounding surprised. "Yeah. Good point."
Nodding, she stood and helped him. In moments they were making the short trek back to her apartment.
Once there Ikari set himself to reapplying sheets to her bed, while she wiped a damp cloth along the blinds and began to puzzle out the curtains. They seemed simple enough, and he had apparently chosen the correct size. She had been unaware they came in different sizes.
"Asuka asked where I was going," he murmured at one point. "I didn't tell her."
Rei eyed him as he straightened a pale green rug on the floor. "Why not?"
"You know how she is," he sighed, putting hands on his hips as he examined the rug's alignment relative to the walls. "She would have flared up or something, and probably would have bothered you about it too. I just said I was visiting a friend, but she didn't believe me."
She frowned at this, suddenly uncertain. "A friend," she repeated.
Ikari hesitated, then twisted around to glance at her nervously. "Is that okay? I meant it as just something to put her off, but now that we're talking about it, I think that might be what we are."
Rei sat on the edge of the bed, folding her hands. "Are we?" she wondered thoughtfully, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I don't know."
Peripherally she noticed Ikari running a hand through his hair. "Friends... spend time together," he explained weakly. "They eat together and stuff, but you also talk to friends about things that bother you, or things that are important to you."
She remained silent, thinking. By Ikari's definition, he was definitely a friend. The Commander, however, would not be; he never confided in her, as Ikari seemed to think a friend should, and he had never discussed friendship at all, a topic Rei decided was of importance to her. Hence he was not a friend. Is that right?
Ikari cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I... never mind," he decided flatly. "Maybe I was wrong. I should head home, I suppose." Squatting, he began returning supplies to his backpack.
"Do friends hurt each other?" The question coming out of her mouth surprised her.
"They're not supposed to," answered Ikari without turning back around, "but I hurt Touji."
Then the Commander is not a friend, she concluded. Perhaps he does not need to be. Nodding, she stood and returned to the curtains trying to get the things straight. "You were not wrong."
"I... what?" His voice carried clear confusion. "Really?"
"Yes." There. The rod had not been set properly into its brackets.
"Oh," breathed Ikari. "That's... a relief, I think." He chuckled.
He said no more, and they continued to work. After finishing with the rug, he found the window clings he'd selected, bright things like rainbows and cartoon fish, though why a fish should be anywhere near a rainbow, she did not understand. He applied them anyway, smiling faintly as he stuck them to the windows, which he had been forced to wash first.
It was nearly midnight when he finished, she realized as he was packing the last of his belongings into his backback. Ikari noticed the time too, she saw, grimacing as he checked the clock.
"Is it late for you?" wondered Rei, concerned. She usually went to bed before this, but on the occasions she did not, she'd simply stay home from school the next day, a solution Ikari seemed loath to employ.
"A little," he shrugged, pulling his backpack on. "I'll be fine."
She nodded, following him to the door, vaguely unwilling to see him go. "I'm... glad you came," she decided. I have a friend.
He smiled in the doorway. "I am too."
Heat arose in her belly, her cheeks; she lowered her gaze. "Thank you, Ikari."
"Shinji."
"What?"
"We're friends now," he explained, adjusting the backpack. "It's okay to call one another by our first names. If... if it doesn't bother you, I mean."
Rei frowned. Many of the NERV staff already referred to her by her given name, and she could hardly make herself care one way or the other about that, but actually addressing another so seemed presumptuous. But he's giving me permission, she reminded herself. He has friends and they all do that. He even calls Sohryu Asuka, and they aren't friends. He must know what he's talking about. "That's acceptable."
"Good," he smiled again. "I'll see you tomorrow. Rei." Turning, he stepped into the hallway and shut the door quietly behind him.
Rei. As the sound of his footsteps faded to silence, she stared at the door, absently raising a hand to touch her cheek, which still felt warm. Why does it sound different coming from him?
Smoothing a frown, she turned and examined her apartment, now, if not immaculate, at least much cleaner than it had been. It was even... colorful. Brighter somehow, too.
Most unusual, she concluded. Turning, she clicked off the lights and headed for her newly-clean bed, undoing her uniform as she walked. In moments it was a rumpled pile of teal and white on the ground, joined by her socks. As she climbed into bed, however, her eyes caught sight of the clothes, now a very noticeable departure from the otherwise shiningly clean floor.
For a moment she sat there unmoving, one hand on the sheets. Then she shook herself. Rising, she gathered the still-warm garments and tossed them into one of the nearby laundry baskets before returning to bed.
Despite the heat, sleep came easily.