It's not that she hates the color red. Quite the contrary, In fact, as she loves the color red.

After all, if anyone wasasked, the color they would use to describe her would be Red.

But she hates Valentines Day.

What good is it to have a million ways to say I love you (Ai? She hates it, Koi? Feels bland) if the Japanese don't say "I love you" as often as Western people do?

"Because of cultural differences." Baka-Shinji will say (so she is not surprised when he says he has never used that expression in his life)

It's the same as with the color red. Aka, huiro (vermilion), akaneiro (madder red), enji (dark red), karakurenai (crimson) and hiiro (scarlet). different ways to virtually describe her.

However, Red holds a special meaning for her, especially when she sees Baka-Shinji coming to her (their) tree with her bento (their bento) under his arm, while holding a package of chocolate and a bewildered expression on his face.

"Don't tell me some one actually gave you some giri-choco, Baka."

Shinji is blushing and stuttering. "I-I found it in my locker, no card or signature, simply sitting there with a tag with a kiss printed in it in bright re-" He stops, squinting at her.

"Hey, why are your lips so red?"

Gott, she hates the color Red.

----- -----

It's not that she hates the color white.

It's just that she really, REALLY hates the color white.

For one it's too bland, too pasty, too chalky.

For the other it reminds her of those two.

And lastly, it reeks of obligation. She also hates the concept of "giri" (and, no, she'd never use honmei), because it's as Japanese as Japanese can be. If he is going to give her something, it better be because he wants to, not because of obligation.

Because she didn't spend that long hour waiting in line at the supermarket, behind those crying babies (they were tempting her to poke her own ears out with her pencil) and in front of the idiot from class 3-C leering at her (Good thing he's left handed, as writing with a broken wrist can be hard) just so he feels obligated to get her something (even if it's supposed to be three times the value of what she got) and-

Here he is, prompt as always, sitting next to him (he no longer stand there like a lost puppy waiting for her to tell him to sit), and as she opens the carefully wrapped bento box, the first thing she notices is the red plum and the white rice.

It looks like the Japanese flag.

And she remembers the meaning behind it all.

Kouhaku.

And then, just as suddenly, he is giving her a red and white wrapped box, and she can see his trembling hand, and his throat looks like stone, and he is not even looking at her.

And she lets her red hair fall on her white skin to try and stop the blush as she sees the white chocolate and red charms bracelet he has given her.

Because she hears Misato's words rushing back.

"Japanese generally don't express their love openly. They believe that love can be expressed by manners."