Of course it had to be a Valentine's story that ended my writer's block.

In July.

Prepare yourself for shameless fluff.

Revised: 7/12/2020

Sitting silently with his elbow rested on the kitchen table and his head held in his left hand, Shinji stared vacantly. The table was nigh clear of any contents, save for a solitary red, heart-shaped card—a Valentine card. As his eyes fell to the card, he couldn't help the slight scowl that crossed his features. For the next few seconds, he glared daggers at the card before shaking his head with a sigh.

I shouldn't be like this, he thought. She was just being thoughtful… I should be appreciative. And I am… aren't I?

"She" being Misato Katsuragi, the boy's guardian—who filled a role not dissimilar to that of an older sister or mother. Though at times Shinji couldn't help but feel like he was the older one. What with him doing the brunt of the cooking, chores, and his frequent need to scold her for her irresponsible behavior. How that woman could be so immature and carefree at home yet so intense and in-control during an angel attack was an absolute mystery to him.

Shinji knew she cared about him—even if his lack of self-worth made believing such a thing frustratingly difficult. However, he couldn't shake the lingering belief that Misato's gesture was done more out of pity or obligation as opposed to genuine affection.

The fact that it was the only gift he'd received for Valentine's Day wasn't helping matters either. Much to Shinji's dismay, the few girls who had openly shown interest had long since moved on. It hadn't taken them long to realize that despite being an Evangelion pilot, he was still above all else, Shinji Ikari.

Timid, awkward, self-loathing Shinji Ikari.

Discounting those girls and Misato, Shinji narrowed his list of potential Valentines down to three people.

First was Asuka—his temperamental roommate whose attitude towards him alternated mostly between begrudging tolerance and outright hostility. There were rare moments when they got along—moments Shinji treasured. Sadly, those moments were few and far between. She had spent the entire weekend raving over hypothetical trysts with Mr. Kaji—trysts Shinji and very deep down, Asuka, knew would always stay hypothetical.

Then there was Hikari—the kindly yet strict class-rep. Shinji wasn't surprised that he had received nothing from her; it was obvious to anyone with eyes she had it bad for Suzuhara.

Last but certainly not least was the elusive First Child, Rei Ayanami. The girl remained a complete enigma to Shinji. Over the months he had known her, he felt they had reached some sort of understanding, and he did cherish her as a friend. Her demeanor however, made discerning whatever feelings she potentially had for him, or anyone else for that matter, close to impossible.

Come to think of it, I haven't seen Ayanami since Friday… you don't think…?

Shinji slapped his forehead. Of course she wouldn't get him anything! This was Ayanami for God's sake! Even if he were willing to believe she liked him enough to do such a thing, she was hardly the Valentine type. She may not have been emotionless contrary to what many people believed, but giving a Valentine's gift to a boy she liked? That was a little farfetched.

Maybe I should've gone out with Misato, Asuka, and Mr. Kaji, Shinji thought. Probably would've been better than sulking around here all day.

He sighed, then sat up.

Maybe some fresh air is what I need.

With bated breath, Rei Ayanami stood deathly quiet, her eyes fixated on the metallic door in front of her. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to ring the buzzer or even knock.

This uncertainty… this hesitance… I do not understand why I feel this way…

Grasped in her delicate, pale hands, was a blue, heart-shaped box with yellow trim. In it, an assortment of chocolates with which Rei wasn't at all familiar and something else a little more… special.

For Rei, food was a necessity, not a delicacy. The concept of eating for enjoyment rather than sustenance was completely alien to her. Still, she had read that chocolate was a customary Valentine's Day gift. Not being one to mistrust her textbooks, she simply went along with it.

Picking out the right box of chocolates hadn't been easy. Firstly, she had no idea what Ikari liked or what he disliked, or even if he had any allergies. Secondly, the color representing love, and thus the color most prevalent for all Valentine's products, was red. Oh, how she detested that color.

It reminded her of blood… her blood, Ikari's blood. Which in turn was an unpleasant reminder of the pain and misery they've both had to endure.

That, and it also reminded her of a certain… unpleasant pilot.

When her eyes had first caught sight of the box she would eventually purchase, she felt a tug. As if some inexplicable force had beckoned her. Rei had never had an eye for aesthetics, but she could—to some degree—admire the box's design. It was quite elegant. Assumably the chocolate was of high quality as well, given the exorbitant price she had paid.

It wasn't that Rei was cheap, mind. She had already purchased something far more expensive the very same day. She just had trouble understanding the point of spending excessive amounts of money on things that were not only perishable, but also unnecessary.

It is a gesture of my feelings toward Ikari, she thought to herself. As such, is it truly unnecessary?

Rei subconsciously tightened the grip on the box and brought it close to her chest—as if she were guarding a treasured heirloom from some unseeable threat. She had been standing in place for nearly twenty minutes now, still woefully unable to alert whoever was home of her presence.

Never have I had this issue. This behavior is… irrational.

Biting her lip, she removed one hand from the heart-shaped box, then shakily guided it to the buzzer. When her index finger came within a fraction of an inch of the button, she hesitated.

I do not know why I am behaving this way, she thought. Please, Ikari, Major Katsuragi… even Sohryu… someone open this door.

So caught up in her own inner dialogue, Rei didn't even notice the sound of the door whizzing open.

"A-Ayanami?"

Shinji did what he always did when met face-to-face with a girl, or anyone for that matter—he blushed and shyly backed away. There he was, heading out for a quiet walk to take his mind off things and he's greeted with the sight of none other than Rei Ayanami, the very girl he'd been thinking of only moments earlier.

His eyes fell from hers, catching sight of a blue and yellow box. A heart-shaped box.

She didn't… I mean, surely, she wouldn't… would she?

"Um… Ayanami…"

"Ikari," she said swiftly after a nearly undetectable pause. Most wouldn't have caught it, but Shinji had learned to pick up on a few of Ayanami's subtleties. The girl brought her hand down and returned it to the box.

"Why are you here?" Shinji asked, before kicking himself mentally. Why'd I have to say it like that? Now she probably thinks I don't want her here! "N-not that I'm not glad you're here, that is."

He is nervous, Rei thought. As am I, strangely enough. Though his nervousness is far more… noticeable.

"It is the 14th of February, is it not?"

Shinji gulped, his blush growing ever darker. "Y-yeah…"

"And unless I am mistaken, February 14th is Valentine's Day," she said, then paused to gauge his reaction. Strangely enough, seeing his face, red didn't seem so distasteful anymore.

"From what I have read," Rei continued, "this is a day during which boys receive gifts from girls with whom they share a close relationship." Rei lowered the box, so it was held in front of her waist. "I believe there is also a follow up day a month from now during which the roles are reversed."

"Y-yeah," Shinji said, "White Day."

"May I come in, Ikari?"

Shinji stared blankly for several seconds.

"Ikari?"

"Wha—Oh yeah! Of course, you can come in, Ayanami."

Shinji stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. Nodding politely, Rei entered the apartment. Shinji had to admit, it was impressive, not to mention baffling, how she could walk across hard floor without making a single sound.

Upon entering the living room, Shinji grew even more nervous.

Should we go to the kitchen instead? he thought. There's only one couch here, I don't think it would be proper to share. Maybe I could sit on the floor or something…

The sound of Rei easing onto one of the plush cushions of the sofa snapped Shinji out of his thoughts. He walked closer to her. He prepared to sit down on the floor but paused as she said: "There is space available on the couch."

Rei felt uneasy as a warm feeling spread across her cheeks. The sensation was not unlike the one she had felt when Ikari told her she'd make a good wife. Or when he had cleaned her apartment simply out of the kindness of his heart. Even though she felt uneasy, the sensation was most certainly… pleasant.

"Y-you want me to s-sit next to you?" Shinji said, his voice somewhat hoarse. "Is that really okay?"

"Do you not wish to sit near me?" she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"I…" He looked into her eyes. Contrary to the seemingly expressionless look on her face, he could swear he saw a pleading look in her eyes.

Am I just seeing things that aren't there? I… I don't know…

He looked to the blue and yellow box held in her lap, then back to her.

She's here for me. Not Asuka, not Misato, but me. Would she really have a problem if I sat next to her?

Rei continued staring at him. As patient as she was, she was beginning to grow somewhat restless.

Shinji didn't respond with words. Instead, he sat next to Rei, carefully placing his hands on his lap. Turning his head to face her, he caught a glimpse of possibly the faintest smile he'd ever seen in his life. If she were any other girl, he'd be sure it was nothing, but this was Ayanami.

Shinji was certain.

That was definitely a smile.

"M-Misato and Asuka went out with Mr. Kaji a little while ago." He didn't think Rei cared about where those two were and he was right—she couldn't care less. Still, he felt the need to break the ice a little. What better way to do so than with a bit of empty small talk?

"I don't know what to think about Misato and Mr. Kaji…" he said, "…she's always on his case—fighting with him, complaining about him—but deep down, I think she really cares about him. I mean, why else would she agree to go out with him?"

"People are often afraid of being true to the ones for whom they care," Rei said, surprising Shinji and even herself. She hesitated briefly before continuing. "We do not want to be hurt by these people, but by protecting ourselves from being hurt, we end up hurting them."

Shinji's mouth went slightly agape. "I… didn't think you'd know so much about that kind of stuff."

Rei looked at him blankly. "I have read many textbooks."

That wasn't a funny statement by any means, but the suddenness of it along with his shock from her previous comments caused Shinji to burst out laughing. Rei watched in confusion as he proceeded to clutch his stomach and let loose some of the strangest sounds she'd ever heard from a person.

He is laughing, she thought. An auditory response to something humorous or amusing. I do not understand why he would react to what I said in such a way.

"Was what I said humorous?"

Shinji's laughter took a few more seconds to die down. Wiping a tear from his eye, he looked to her with a slightly guilty expression.

"No, not really," he let out a slight chuckle, "it was just the timing and all… Sometimes things that aren't really funny seem funny in the right context."

"Humor is certainly… complicated."

"I guess it kind of is…" Shinji smiled softly, then realization struck. "Hey! Haven't we gotten a little sidetracked here?"

Rei tilted her head slightly, then widened her eyes. The Valentine! "I… wanted to express my gratitude to you, Ikari. Today seemed appropriate."

Her… gratitude? Shinji blinked.

"You have done more for me than… even the Commander."

He grimaced at the mention of his estranged father. Partially due to the negative feelings he harbored for the man, but also in remembrance of Rei slapping him for voicing those feelings. As much as he loathed his father, he had to admit that after everything that had happened that day, he absolutely deserved that slap.

"You have expressed care for my well-being, even when it was of no gain to yourself. You have shown me kindness. You even believe my life to have worth even when I know it does not."

"Hey! Don't talk like that!" Shinji said. It was like their conversation before defeating the Fifth Angel all over again. How could she see herself as being so replaceable? It just wasn't right!

Rei was taken aback by his sudden outburst. Her lips parted slightly.

"E-even if you don't think your life is worth something… I do."

He clenched his fists.

I can say this! I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away…

"I c-care about you, Ayanami. Even if you were replaced by some—I don't know—clone or something who looked and acted just like you, I'd still miss you." Shinji took a deep breath, then pointed a finger at her. "You, Rei Ayanami, are important to me. If… if your life really isn't valuable… w-why do I feel this way?"

Rei was speechless. The warmth she had felt earlier had now intensified tenfold. It was amazing how this boy could stir up such strong feelings within her. She squeezed the Valentine's box tight, not at all caring if she might squish the chocolates, then smiled. A wide, genuine smile—just like when Shinji had burned himself to save her so many months ago.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Words of gratitude. Never had I used them before meeting you, Ikari.

Outstretching her arms, Rei offered the now mangled heart-shaped box to Shinji. Blushing, he graciously accepted the gift.

"Thank you, too, Ayanami."

When he opened the box, Shinji gasped in amazement. This amazed gasp, however, was not sparked by the predictable sight of chocolates. Most of them had either melted somewhat—the eternal summer that was post-Second Impact climate was to thank for that—or were smushed slightly. No, what caught Shinji's eye was a silver, anchor-shaped pendant, wrapped in plastic, and located right in the middle of the box.

Shinji didn't have any sort of eye for jewelry. He had no way of telling whether the pendant was genuine or fake. Real or not, expensive or cheap, it looked amazing to him, and that was all that really mattered. Carefully grabbing his new treasure, Shinji held it out so both he and Rei could get a good look.

"This is… wow," he said.

"'Ikari' means anchor," Rei said, to which Shinji nodded. "But it is more than that. Since meeting you, I have come to see you as… someone on whom I can rely."

Shinji raised an eyebrow.

"No matter how harsh the storm, or how fierce the seas… I can look to you, and I know that I will not be swept away. I believe… that you are my anchor, Shinji Ikari."

Both Rei and Shinji were blushing, Shinji far more so. Flustered as he was, however, he was still smiling from ear to ear. This was probably the happiest he had felt since the disappearance of his mother. Happiness was a feeling that had become all too foreign to Shinji. He'd convinced himself, or at least tried very hard to convince himself, that he wasn't worthy of it.

For the first time in many years, Shinji not only felt happy, he also felt he deserved to be happy.

"Aya…" Shinji swallowed a lump in his throat, "…do you mind if I call you Rei?"

"Only if I may refer to you as Shinji."

"Y-yeah… that would be nice."

Placing the box of chocolates aside, Shinji draped the fine chain of the pendant around his neck.

"H-how does it look on me... R-Rei?"

Still smiling, Rei regarded him for a moment. "It suits you, Shinji."

With confidence he was completely unaware he possessed, Shinji gently grabbed Rei's hands. Her eyes and mouth widened at his uncharacteristic display of bravado. He gazed into her eyes. His heart was practically pounding out of his chest. Likewise, Rei found the beat of her own heart growing more rapid. With time however, they both grew calm.

Rei's mouth fell back into a smile, and she lightly squeezed Shinji's hands. He returned the squeeze, and relished in the splendor of her tender, all-too-rare smile. Nothing on earth could ruin such a moment. Nothing that is, except for one worrisome thought:

How the hell am I gonna match this next month?