It is a Child with Adult Alone alone

'An unfamiliar ceiling,' was Shinji Ikari's first thought as he awoke. He remembered a hill, and the Eva, and blood, and loud horns and lights. . .and Rei Ayanami, his fellow pilot. 'That's right. We were rescued.'

"You woke up." Shinji hadn't yet opened his eyes, but the voice sounded familiar. He thought, before seeing who it was, that she had chosen a poor choice of words– or maybe there actually was a good chance that he might never have woken up.

"Good afternoon," the voice spoke again, and Shinji saw that it was Rei Ayanami.

"Afternoon...?" Shinji groaned slightly as he sat up in his bed.

"Yes," explained Rei, "It is nearly 5 p.m."

"What day is it?" Shinji didn't actually care, but he wanted to keep this friendly conversation going as long as possible.

"Saturday," answered Rei. "A week after the last mission. Shinji got his first good look at his fellow pilot. She was wearing her school uniform– 'On a Saturday? Oh. . .she was wearing it that day too. I wonder if its the only clothes she owns'– and Shinji could tell that her abdomen and chest were wrapped tightly, not to mention her arm, which was in a sling again, and her bandaged wrapped head.

"Ah!" Shinji sat up straight, hurting his ribs, which he saw were also wrapped, and shaking the sheets so they fell of his upper body and settled around his knees. "You're hurt," Shinji forced out the words in a groan, having just experienced an unexpected wave of pain himself.

Before Rei could answer, Dr. Akagi entered and her face showed obvious surprise at something: Shinji thought fleetingly that it must be at 'finding Rei sitting by his bed'. Behind the Doctor followed a nurse attendant into the room, and she actually gasped. "Rei!" the nurse scolded. "What are you doing out of bed– and your clothes!" The nurse's voice quaked with indignation.

Calmly, expressionless, Rei responded, "I have recovered well enough. I plan to return home after visiting pilot Ikari."

"Absolutely not!" yelled the nurse as she was busying herself with adjusting the machine near Shinji's bed. "You and Ikari need to stay to recover for at least another week."

"That's enough," Dr. Akagi said, not looking up from the chart in her hand. "Rei and Shinji can both be discharged, if they like. They're injuries are largely referred pain– mental not physical," she added to Shinji who looked slightly perplexed. "You do need to get back in your room for today, Rei. Please get back in your hospital gown, as well."

"Yes," Rei said simply, though she did not get up from the chair besides Shinji's bed.

"Well," Dr. Akagi went on, turning to Shinji. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Shinji lied easily.

"Hungry?"

"No," Shinji's stomach growled at the thought of food, but Shinji knew that he would more than likely throw up if he ate anything.

"All the same," the Doctor said as she checked his pulse and breathing. "You should eat something. We'll send in some soup. Nurse," Dr. Akagi called to her to exit the room. "Come along, Rei–" but Rei made no sign of movement. Before the nurse could yell and scold her once more, the Doctor shrewdly added: "–soon."

"Yes," Rei said again. Now, it was only Rei and Shinji in the large, white hospital room; but neither looked at each other– or spoke. Shinji stared determinately at the clock opposite the end of his bed. He saw the minutes ebb pass in silence:

2. . .3. . .5. . .8 minutes. This was getting to be too much. Shinji was dead tired, but he wanted to be with Rei as long as possible. They didn't need to talk, Shinji figured, as long as she wanted to be with him. 'Why didn't she leave with Ritsuko? Why was she here before I woke up?'

That was as good a place to start as any. "Ayanami," Shinji said with the tone of a small boy speaking to a rather scary or intimidating stranger. "Were you here– are you here cause you were worried about me?"

". . ." If Rei's skin hadn't been so pale, and the room so flooded with sunlight from the large window opposite the door, Shinji mightn't have been able to see the faint blush tarnish her perfect, pearly skin. Suddenly, she stood up and walked serenely to the door, though Shinji could see how her injuries pained each and every one of her movements.

"Wait, Ayanami! I really didn't mean–" Shinji's words died suddenly in his throat when Rei turned around and her eyes bore into his own. This– Shinji might have thought– was a look that threatened strangulation.

Then, to his sudden surprise, Rei smiled. The terror of her stare transformed beautifully into blooming affection. "I'm glad you're better," she said– echoing Shinji's words back to him. Shinji wished he could continue looking at her smile for days, but then he sneezed into his arm.

When he looked back up, Rei was no longer smiling, but there was unmistakable tenderness in her features. "Shinji. . ." It took a moment for Shinji to register the use of his first name. His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "I said you can call me 'Rei'. . .so let me call you that." There was again a slight pink under Rei's red eyes.

"Aa!" Shinji nodded once, somewhat too enthusiastically. He sneezed again.

"It would be bad if you became sick in your weakened condition," Rei said. "You should cover up." For the first time, Shinji looked down and realized that he was naked– and the sheets were only covering from his knees to his feet. Panicking, Shinji scramble to pull the covers up over his mouth, but Rei was already walking out the door.

Shinji looked around the room quickly and sighed. '. . .Pathetic.'

"By all accounts," began a member of Seele lit by blue light emanating from his desk, "the operation was a success."

"Certainly, Unit-01 is incapacitated, but the Pilots are alive and well-protected by Ikari."

"It is as much as we could have hoped for. The bigger question is: how did Ikari know that Orange was still active, and under our control? And were his actions that day a blind's man bluff? Or did he know that the Cosmic Trigger would be our first offensive weapon?"

"Ikari has his hands in all of Seele's operations, even this council."

"He either has incredible faith in his son and the First children, or the Eva's AT field was his only resort."

"Neither would be surprising," chimed in the Chairman. "We must accept the situation as it is– Ikari will have no bearing on our ultimate goal. Furthermore, this situation gives us the opportunity to introduce the alternative."

Misato had told him that he was a good deal more injured than Rei, but still Shinji wondered how Rei could walk to his room, and back, without showing it. 'I hope this is worth it.' Finally, after many stumbles, and a good number of groans, Shinji made it to the door leading out to the hall way. Grudgingly, and painfully, Shinji had managed to get Misato to tell him where Rei's room was. He was going there now, thinking that he should visit her– returning the favor.

The door automatically opened, and he grasped the flat wall for support. As he made his way down the empty hallway, he wondered if Rei would even be awake. It was 9 a.m., the day (Sunday) after he woke up, and he had just finished eating breakfast: a piece of toast and artificial orange juice.

'Oh, I guess she's up,' Shinji had turned the first corner and saw Rei characteristically looking out the large windows that let the light from the geosphere into the Nerv building. "Ah–Hey, Rei!" As Rei turned to face him he noticed that all of her bandages had been changed: she wasn't smiling.

Shinji stopped as he saw comprehension dawn on Rei's face. She knew that it was more painful for Shinji to move, so she obligingly moved away from the window and towards him. "Hello..."

Shinji thought about responding, but the blue-haired pilot looked like she was still trying to say something. He thought he knew what that 'something' was. 'I shouldn't have called her Rei. . . she told you to– but still, now we aren't talking at all.'

There was no clock around, and the light was just dim and pale enough that the air around Shinji gave off a dream-like quality, so that he wasn't sure how long they pressed on in silence. 'This isn't so bad,' Shinji thought as the two stood close to one another in silence. Rei was looking at some part of him– not his eyes. It was the first time Shinji actually thought Rei was looking at him, rather than through him. Time passed on, and Shinji also continued to examine her features: her pale blue hair, deep red eyes, long eyelashes, small nose, soft cheeks– Rei was more beautiful than he thought– 'and her lips. . .'

Like a bullet, Shinji snapped out of his reverie, and he thought that something of the abrupt break in his thoughts had shown on his face because Rei too seemed to refocus herself. She was looking into his eyes now, but he was sure that before. 'She was looking at my lips. . .There! She actually broke her stare to glance at them again.'

"Ano," Shinji tried to push every outrages thought from his head and start the conversation again. "It looks like your feeling better. . .Rei." The last word was wrenched from Shinji's mouth, as he continued to debate with himself whether or not to he should keep calling her 'Rei'.

He always seemed to say the same things to her, but new topics evaded him. "Are you really going back to school tomorrow?"

"Yes," Rei replied. Again, Shinji got the sense that she wanted to say more. He waited for a moment, but trying to avoid another awkward silence, he pressed on.

"I don't think I'll go this week," Shinji said light-heartedly, but his tone soon became gloomy and dejected. He forgot about his embarrassment, and whatever he was feeling towards Rei, and remembered who he was and how he had received his injuries. "I just can't imagine a 'normal' life, knowing that I'll have to return to fight in the Eva."

". . .You hate it that much," Rei spoke almost in a whisper.

"Ah," Shinji's voice recovered its false casualness. "I forgot! You've been here for a long time– so all of this must be pretty 'normal' to you! Hahaha. . ." Even Shinji thought that his laugh was much too forced, and it died away swiftly and feebly.

Rei thought about these oddities in her fellow pilot. Indeed, for the past two days Shinji– the other pilot– was all she was thinking about. He was so very like the commander: he was reliable when it mattered– 'he saved me like the commander'– his eyes showed pain and loss like she had never known– 'he's lost someone precious to him like the commander'– his hair, chin, shoulders, hands– 'he looks like the commander. . .except his lips. Their thin and–' Rei might have thought 'feminine', but her thoughts were interrupted by the boy's voice.

"Rei?" Shinji repeated, "So. . .do you and my father talk?"

He wanted to talk about his father: she was right in front of him and the thing he most wants from her is information about the commander. For some reason Rei felt uncomfortable– if that was the right word, she was not so sure– but she ought to answer him all the same. "Yes."

"What about?" Shinji continued asking.

Rei thought long and hard about this. What did they talk about? She supposed that they talked about a lot of things. Should she tell him about everything– she thought for a moment of a list. It was a good a choice as any. "Eva, tests, school, what we will eat–"

"Eat?" Shinji interjected.

Rei was snapped out of her performance. "Yes." She wondered what was so interesting– what was more interesting than–

"So you eat together with my father?"

Now Rei thought she knew what the feeling was. She was annoyed, not uncomfortable. What did Shinji– the other pilot– think was so peculiar about the act of eating? "Yes."

Then a thought broke into Rei's mind. It had issued forth from the look in the boy's eyes. Shinji had quickly turned away from her, and he looked at the floor with such anger– confusion– mistrust– and sadness that Rei thought absurdly for a moment that the floor had purposefully and personally offended him. Then: 'He doesn't know his father. He has never eaten with him. He had no parents. . .like me– Yes, but I had the commander. All these years I have been with the commander, and his son has been with no one. What am I to the commander? Am I a substitute for his son, whom he never knew?'

Rei's hand jerked at her side. Her body knew what she wanted to do, but her mind was racing to catch up. She looked down at her hand with mild curiosity. It had flittered toward Shinji. It wanted to touch him. It wanted him to stop looking like that. It wanted him to look back at her with that expression of mixed embarrassment and longing. 'What am i thinking?'

Trying for some compromise, because of course she couldn't actually touch her fellow pilot, Rei said, "I do not know the commander. The things we talk about– the questions he asks me– they are all to make sure I am performing my duties as an Eva pilot." Rei's chest tightened and her eyes narrowed at her own words, as if she had first realized that this was the reality of her situation as she was explaining it to Shinji. A particular alarming realization came into her mind, which she did not verbalize.

'The commander saved me from the entry plug because I'm his key to the Scub Coral.' Her mind immediately countered the panic arising in her breast at this notion. 'But he did save you. He has always been there for you.' Then a light, fluttery feeling rose up from somewhere closer to her abdomen. 'Shinji saved me. . .he was happy I was still alive.'

Rei came out of her thoughts to see that Shinji was looking back at her, and she was pleased to see that he didn't seem as troubled. There was still a good amount of sadness, Rei thought, in his look– but that was always the case: it was something that made him him.

"Anyway," Shinji tried to move the conversation on, "I'll come back before– or maybe on– next monday." The two once again stood in silence, and Shinji thought this was enough for one morning. "Alright then. . .Feel better, Rei." Shinji smiled and turned to leave. He got a few steps, to the corner of the wall, when the sound of Rei's breath made him turn around. She was about to say something, he knew it.

Rei smiled. "Feel better, Shinji."