(certainty)

If I had avoided Ikari-kun after that confrontation down in the corridors and given up for lost whatever rapport we may have built, it was because, rightly or not, I had judged the issues that had come up between us to be insurmountable.

And even now, in the aftermath, they were not even close to having been surmounted:

Ikari-kun still knew that I had not told him everything of the classified information I was privy to.

And I, for my part, still could not say what he might do if he did indeed learn of it, or how the way that he looks at me might be altered if he knew, among other things, how I was derived from what he termed 'the monster in the basement'.

All this was still as true as it was when it seemed a gulf I would never cross.

Yet still, something had changed, something subtle, which took me a moment to define at first.

I think for the most part, it was simply that there was a difference between those things hanging between us as something unspeakable and unacknowledged, as sealed-off little droplets floating in the phase shift where oil and water met, and that which we have now, which is that we have spoken of those things and accepted their presence at least for the moment, having them understood as mutually acknowledged.

It is simply harder to have something that cannot be spoken or shared hanging between you than it is to have patience, compassion for forgiveness for somebody's flaws, even when they continue to irritate you, particularly when you know that the person themselves also struggles with their shortcommings and fears that they cannot keep your company if they should fail to do right by you due those same limitations, precisely because they do strongly feel that you should be done right by.

Huh.

So that's how that is.

I would not have known.

Perhaps it was something that must be learned from experience, a determination that nobody can make about themselves until they have actually experienced both and felt which they judge harder. It may not be universal. I cannot even really say what I prefer yet, having only such a small amount of experience. We may not have the time left anymore to fully understand.

It struck me how every living being has, in themselves, the potential for responding to every possible experience, and furthermore a constant stream of responding to everything around them, but in most cases, only a small fraction of possible things to respond to are encountered, and only a small fraction of responses are even paid attention to.

The mind tends to dwell on other things.

Or that is, mine does. I am hardly representative.

What I am thinking about all this might be grossly different from what Ikari-kun concluded, even being in the same room, even living through the same event.

The bits that he remembers, and the meanings he assigns them in the privacy of his mind may all be very different from what I took away, subtly readjusted in every calling forth of the associations, every time it is recreated by a symphony of neurons, while the real event is lost to time.

There is one experience, however, that I think must have been shared, paradoxical as though it may have seemed – and that would be an increased sense of ease following the confrontation.

Perhaps it was to do with finally having the issue out in the open, or maybe far broader, going beyond the resolution of this individual disagreement, instead being grounded in the knowledge that whatever rapport had been built through our various awkward fumblings could in fact withstand some temporary discord, that it was, by both parties, considered to be something worth trying to preserve, worth giving the benefit of the doubt or a willingness to forgive.

Or perhaps it was erroneous to expect there to be any such sort of deeper reason at all. There is a known tendency for the human animal to consider itself more bonded to those in its surroundings after challenging experiences, even if the others involved were arguably responsible for the unpleasant event.

I don't know. I can't claim to understand such things. There probably isn't enough time left in the world as it is now for me to grow to understand it.

I am poorly suited to picking it up.

Even so, it could not escape even my notice that previously, Ikari-kun might have hesitated a little before walking over to me, and then in addition to that lingered in an awkward pause as he put together his words for actually adressing me, whereas in the time after that incident, I recall many situation where he simply began speaking as soon as he could ascertain that I had seen them, for example, one time that we stood there waiting for the tram.

His entire demeanor seemed more at ease, more at home in those days, less stilted and wound-up, when I compare both with my memory of the days before, and that which would come after, when this illusion of indeterminate peaceful days would at last crumble on us completely and bury us in its rubble.

He spoke to me in a light and natural fashion, his face showing a simple honest gladness to see me, his arm already pulling out his phone in preparation to show me something.

I don't think I would have so much as remembered the incident, were it not for this discussion the next day. It was some cultural event at school, involving a minor athletics competition.

I would not even have attended if it had been elective, but since its purpose was apparently 'to encourage healthy habits in the student body', everyone was made to participate.
I am not sure what I did last year, I might have been at NERV.

Obviously it was just another farce; Our healthy habits would not matter if we were to abandon bodily existence alltogether in a few months.

There was no way Commander Ikari was going to attend; Just as unlikely, then, that the Second Child's family could be flown in fron Europe to cheer her on in the meaningless act of running a few closed circles around the track, but it seems Major Katsuragi thought this an evil to be remedied, and made sure to bring Inspector Kaji, Doctor Akagi and even some of the technicians that they worked with.

Once we had all shed our sweaty PE uniforms, showered and put on our regular ones, the Major considered it the perfect opportunity to take a picture featuring both her colleagues and some of our classmates.

It appears, however, that the resulting image was not entirely to Ikari-kun's liking:

"Oh dear... we Mike Wazowski'd you…"

"...you… what?"

"Here. You're right behind me there's just a little bit of your hair poking out. I actually meant to stand a bit further back, but then Touji suddenly put his arm around me - I guess he decided to put his arm around me as a surprise without thinking… He probably just thought it would be fun."

"I can see that. It is the word you used that I did not recognize."

"Ah, it's from a joke from a children's movie - You probably wouldn't have seen it. Still, it's really a pity… Sorry about the photo."

I suppose he must be apologizing because it's expected that each participant would prefer to be fully visible on the image. Taking pictures, I understand, is supposed to commemorate or celebrate and event, but I honestly didn't have any strong feelings about that… sports festival, was it?

It was honestly just tiring and uncomfortable to be exerting myself in this heat.

I think I had, by now, experienced what it was to find an event memorable or significant, and this wasn't it.

"It's alright. It doesn't really matter."

"I-I guess so… still, I would have liked to have everyone show up nicely on this picture. I was thinking of printing it out in an album or something… Just as a memory."

"As a memory?"

"Is that weird?"

"No – that is. I would not know, really. I am simply surprised. I was under the impression that you had considered your work as a pilot rather unpleasant thus far, so I am surprised that you would wish to remember something from this time."

"Well – it's not EVA that I'd want to remember. But ever since I came here, I met a lot of people, and I've made a lot of memories and all new experiences…"

For a moment, he let his glance flicker to all the smiling people on the screen.

Suzuhara's broad grin. Aida's bright, alert glance. Horaki-san lifting up Major Katsuragi's pet bird so that he could also be in the picture. The Second's hand on the shoulder of his younger self, pushing him ever so slightly to the side so she'd have more space to strike a little pose.

"Good or bad, I'm probably going to look back at this as an important time in my life – if we beat the angels and survive, that is.

I know we might not, you've told me many times. But if we all die – or, even if everyone else survives and it's just us who's going to die, then we can't really prepare for it 'cause whatever we do is gonna be moot.

Still, I'm thinking that, if we did make it out, I'd like to have a picture of everyone to remember them, you know? NERV is probably gonna be dissolved and who knows where all of us might end up after that. Asuka might go back to Europe, everyone and their parents might get jobs in different cities…

I'm still not sure what I'm going to do. I know we're supposed to be fighting for the future, but I can't really imagine it – I'll probably just end up going back to my teacher, but even if that happened, I think I would arrive there as a different person compared to who I was when I first left. I wouldn't really be a little kid any more – there'd be no going back to how things were, and, I think that's probably a good thing. I guess I'm doing everything 'cause it's the present that I don't want to end. At least, some parts of it – I can't really look forward to it all being over, even if it means no more fighting. It feels distant and far away, hard to imagine.

I feel like the barrier between now and then almost feels too high to over cross.

We have to beat more angels, right? And they always get more powerful, too…

But eventually, it's going to end, and we'll go our separate ways, and maybe we'll even find something else that's worth staying for, but, when that happens, I think I don't want to forget what happened here and what I learned from everyone here… I'd want to remember everyone, including you."

He swiped across the screen of his phone then, prompting it to display another scene.

It depicted himself, the Second, Inspector Kaji and Major Katsuragi sitting at a table, the latter of which seemed to have taken the picture with her own phone – the edges of her fingers were cutting into the image.

"And this, as well – we took this picture a little later that same day. Kaji-san invited us all out for dinner after we left. I would've suggested that we take you with us, but it was a grill restaurant, so, that probably wouldn't have been your cup of tea."

Then at least, I finally thought of something to remark upon:

"...I thought Inspector Kaji and Major Katsuragi didn't get along."

Ikari-kun offered a simple, if surprising explanation for that:

"Oh, not any more. It looks like they've worked it out and got back together. So, if Asuka's being a little crankier than usual, don't blame her too much."

"...this is sudden."

I wasn't sure what else to say.

But, somewhat to my relief, it seem that Ikari-kun was not expecting great insights from me on this matter, but instead seemed little less blindsided himself:

"Right? I don't really get it, either. Everyone says that I shouldn't be surprised and that I must be a big baby if I didn't see it coming, but no one will explain it to me either, I'm just expected to just know or something. It really frustrates me sometimes – everyone tells me to 'grow up' but no one shows me how to do that. How am I supposed to learn, if no one will explain to me!"

"I imagine that it must be frustrating to have unclear expectations."

I was trying to show that I was listening.

You are supposed to echo your conversation partner somewhat, aren't you?

I may have read about something like that once.

I think it worked, this time.

"...You could say it like that, yeah." was what he replied, "Which is why I'm kinda happy that Mr. Kaji and Misato-san have made their peace now."

"Why is that?"

I wondered out loud. I was actually a little curious.

It's strange how trivialities of everyday existence can get just more interesting when someone you're associated with is involved.

I suppose, in the case of their lovers, family members or those they admire, humans can be interested in learning every little detail of their lives and their thought, thought they might care absolutely nothing under different circumstances, if it were some unpleasant stranger which they could not relate to, which was usually the category that I would have fallen into.

Ikari-kun seemed eager to talk about Mr. Kaji as well:

"It means that I'll be seeing him more often. He does explain things to me sometimes. I can't say I always understand what he means, but, it's something, at least. Just the other day, he actually took me out with him to his garden plot in the geofront and showed me how to tend his garden. At first I felt like he kinda tricked me into helping him with his work by saying he'd buy me a can of coffee, but then I thought about it and, learning to take care of a garden is kind of a life skill, isn't it…?"

I wondered briefly if I was supposed to answer that, but then he kept speaking, perhaps having finished the thought he had paused to complete.

"I'm really not used to anyone taking time out of their day just to take me to places, or, try to guide me or teach me lessons for my own good. He wants me to think for myself – and when he first told me that, back at the aquarium, I was honestly overwhelmed with it.

I didn't know what to do. It's not how I've ever lived…."

One could hear, in his voice, that he stil felt a strain of shame thinking of that incident.

I hoped he would not torment himself about it any longer.

However, it seems that in thinking about it, he had come to some resolute conclusions:

"If you know something, then you're responsible for it, so, some part of me preferred not to know.

But not knowing is scary, too. You can't trust people, so, you come to resent it…

I'm really sorry that I blew up on you that day, you were really just at the wrong place at the wrong time, I shouldn't have pinned my problem on you-"

Since this matter concerned me, I felt at least somewhat resposible to intercede:

"It's alright. As I told you, your desire for answers was justified and understandable, and I bear some responsibility as well."

"Still - I thought it was just one more impossible thing being asked of me, same as it ever was.

When he told me the truth, about all this SEELE stuff and whatever father is doing, I wondered why on earth Kaji-san dumping all this on me.

I kept thinking that I was just some kid, so how am I expected to solve something that all these adults couldn't get sorted?

But that wasn't what Kaji-san was doing, not really.

I couldn't recognize it, because I just hadn't seen that ever before. I'm just used to people expecting me to do things or, just keeping me around for whatever it is they need me for. My teacher got paid for looking after me. NERV needs a pilot.

But, I think Kaji-san was telling me those things for me. Because he thinks I should know. Because he thinks I need to know to make proper decisions.

Because I won't be just some kid forever.

I though he's just expecting me to have a solution even because, that's how things have always been, so, that's what I expected. I couldn't even see something different when it's right in front of me.

But it is different, you know?

And I think I'm starting to understand it. I can't say for sure of course, but I do think so."

Ikari-kun's certainty in that conclusion only seemed to grow as he said this out loud, like he was trying it on, sampling it's taste, feeling it out like the solidity of a foothold.

"'Cause when he told me the thing with the scrolls, it wasn't even the first time that he took me aside to talk to me. He did it during our field trip to the preservation facility, too. He's kept doing it and at first I thought it was because I was a pilot, especially since I learned about his thing with the government, but recently, he told me something.

It was actually after we had this fight recently – he noticed me looking down and asked what happened.

I didn't actually go into any details cause I didn't want to think about it, but I said that I thought I had really screwed up with someone who's important to me, and so we started talking about the topic of responsibility.

Turns out Kaji-san lost his parents in Second Impact – he and his brother were left fending for themselves on the street with a bunch of other orphans. And in the end, he survived, but it turns out that his brother didn't, not his friends – and Kaji-san still kinda feels responsible for that.

I can't even imagine what that must be like, I would have been a baby, so, I don't really remember what the chaos after the impact would have been like.

It certainly made me think – about why it's important that we keep doing what we're doing.

I also think that part of the reason why Kaji-san has made a point to spend time with me and Asuka is that he really sympathized with us because he knows what it's like to be an orphan."

I wondered how many more children had been left orphaned in Second Impact.

I'd known all along, of course, that there had been many such victims.

I'd seen the numbers, the statistics.

I was well aware that most of the older people I saw around me had probably lost someone.

I was told it could not be avoided.

That this was, of all the possible outcomes, the least worst.

It was inevitable. The seal on Adam had been deliberately broken to keep the damage as controlled at possible.

It would have happened anayway, only later. Only bloodier still.

It was an easy calculation to make when looked at in the grand scheme of things.

But if it had happened just a few decades later, Mr. Kaji and his brother would have lived full lives.

It mattered nothing, and yet, it mattered to them.

In the subjective. And I could see Ikari-kun's features twinging in empathetic pain simply because he had a connection to Mr. Kaji, so therefore, his suffering touched him.

I didn't use to have more than just theoretical, superficial connection.

There wasn't much of a subjectivity to consider.

But now I thought that, if those I had come to know would be the sacrifices – when, not if – it may probably touch me as well, to an extent.

Such is the price that is owed.

After a pregnant pause in which he may have been considering very similar things, Ikari-kun kept speaking:

"I kinda felt like a real jerk when I realized that, cause all the time I was thinking that it must be for some nefarious reason, because of NERV, or the Spy stuff, or just to get back with Misato… and then it turns out it's just sympathy. Just wanting to be the person that he wishes he had when he was younger.

Really, we should be the ones having sympathy for him, cause at least Asuka and me never had to live on the streets or anything. I only lost one parent, not both – but he still takes time out of his day to try to give us what he didn't have, rather than comparing about who's got it the worst of anything like that…

I think that's really admirable, really." His voice was uncommonly resolute, his eyes shining with reluctant yet genuine sincerity. "cause there's lot's of people that would say that, because they had it tough now everybody else should suffer too. If they had to do without, others shouldn't expect mercy either. Many people are like that. Heck, I've probably acted like that sometimes.

But not him. I think that's really admirable. I was kind of really ashamed of myself, that he's been through so much worse but came out making the best of it, growing stronger and wiser from it, and here I am with my own room, a warm bed, running water, and people who are actually glad to see me every day, and I'm complaining. I can't manage to pull it off even when I've had it easier, when you really think about it…"

I did not thinking that flagellating himself would do anything to ease anybody else's burden.

"The worst experiences of your life are still the worst to you, even if there may have been others who suffered more. You can only compare to what you have experienced."

"...I guess so… but that's not the point. The point is that, for the first time, I think I've actually met someone that I'd want to be like when I get older. Some idea of what an admirable adult might look like – or, uh, I'm not saying that the others at NERV and so on aren't admirable or anything! It's just that I couldn't see myself being all cheerful and brave like Misato-san or unflappable like father…"

For all that he might have an attachment to Major Katsuragi or the Commander, he didn't seem to consider them as people to be emulated. Further stilll:

"I feel really terrible for saying this when father is still alive, but, it's like this here is the closest I've gotten to knowing what it feels like to have a real family. Some place that I can really belong and come home to…

I know I said earlier that I didn't know what I want to do after the angels are defeated, but actually I don't think that's really true anymore.

Actually, I'm kind of hoping that maybe, depending on how their relationship goes, Mr. Kaji might end up moving in with us at Misato-san's place, and that the four of us might stay together, even after the fighting is over.

You might think it's a bit silly, I mean, it also depends on what they want – Asuka might want to go back to Europe, like I said, and maybe Misato-san and Kaji-san want to go enjoy their lives and not be stuck with two kids when they're still young.

But I'm thinking that, when we won't be pilots anymore, then Asuka won't look at me as a rival anymore, and then we can just be like old friends or something… She won't get mad at me because of test scores or anything, anymore, so, it should be okay..."

There was a sobering feeling taking hold, something like what happens when a cloud passes before the sun, and everything turns greyer, colder, not quite as bright.

I didn't really understand. I certainly wished for Ikari-kun's happiness, so, the thought of him leading an idyllic existence with Mr. Kaji and his current roommates would be a happy one.

And it was, but, it was a distant, still, blinding image, a far away glittering that was never going to contain me.

I could only look on, as a mere observer, a foreign object merely passing through this world.

Just vaguely intrigued by the strangeness of humanity.

"So what is it like?"

I wondered out loud.

"What do you mean?"

"What is it like, to have a family? Or a place to come home to and belong? I do not think I will ever experience that, so, I am wondering what it is like. "

This gave him a fair bit of pause.

"Uh – I- I'm probably not the best person to explain it, I'm kinda new to it."

"Then who else shall I ask?"

There really wasn't anybody else.

He probably knew it, too.

Which is probably why he kept trying, desiring for me to know what, just recently, was just a rumor to him as well:

"Uh, It's just, not easy to explain, I guess. Lots of thick books have probably been written about it.

I might say that it's messsy or loud or confusing, sometimes. It's not even really anything fancy or exciting, but it still seems very… important, just kind of in that way that you only really notice in the aftermath?

Like an undercurrent that is always there, even if you're not paying attention to it in that moment.

But, 'Somewhere to come home to' seems like the right words for it, because that's what it is. Just having that place of calm, quiet and comfort that you know you can always come back to, like golden daylight in the morning…

I don't know if I'm making sense much..."

"No, don't be concerned. It was very illustrative. That was the kind of description that I was hoping for, something including the parts that would not be obvious from merely seeing it described."

I meant that. I was really glad. Especially since this was probably the closest I would ever come to understanding.

"The next time that a picture is taken, I will make sure that my face is visible."

I though that, if I said that, he would be satisfied – and he was, his face lit up somewhat.

His awkward smile broadened into an expression of geniuine delight, as if he were accounting this a moment a success, or a marker of progress of some sort.

Besides, I had known that the tram was about to arrive, so it had seemed appropriate to bring this part of the conversation to some kind of finish line and bookend.

Still the unresolved things that had been glossed over did not lose their tug on my mind.

I had not lied to him, exactly; I tried to express myself in the best analogon I could contrive, to say as much as I could say without saying anything that was explicitly wrong.

But in my mind was a grating awareness like a fork scraping uncomfortably across a plate – at the very least, I was letting him believe things, leaving the door open for him to make some assumptions rather than others.

There was never going to be any kind of future where an older and wiser version of Ikari-kun would be fondly gazing at my likeness in a picture frame, idly wondering or, perhaps exactly knowing what may have become of me.

Perhaps there would come a time where he would keep a photograph in a drawer of his room alongside some images of his present friends and his makeshift surrogate family, and the thought of one day looking back at them as an older man holding a picture frame would give him strength.

I wanted him to keep his strength.

I think the thought of him looking at my image and connecting that with fortitude was something that gave me pleasure.

But like in the tale of the last Unicorn, I knew that the happy ending could not come in the middle of the story.

He is right.

Knowing makes one responsible.

Unlike him, I had always known about the plan, but there were other things I used to be unaware of bot too long ago - I didn't understand much about the experience of the humans around me or the workings of their hearts, their hopes and dreams.

Probably including the parts of myself that are derived from a human donor, and, by extension, by virtue of contrast,

I still probably don't understand a lot.

As I said before, I probably won't have the opportunity to understand it while I exist as I do now.

The doubts I have now might well resolve themselves in the light of the full story.

But as it stands, I am hardly omniscient.

I need to go by what I understand now, and that is leading me to doubt if I am not doing these people an injustice – I did not have to carry that doubt when I expected them to rejoice in what was to come because the Commander told me they would.

He thinks so, but he may be wrong. He may not even be right in thinking he himself is going to be rejoicing.

I suppose some might consider it a strange kind of cosmic punishment, to make Lillith in a sense experiece the state that she inflicted on her creations.

Or what she would be taking away in reaching for the fruit of life.

But whatever concerns Lillith is for her to decide when her existence is reinstated.

I can't speak for her from my position as a limited human facsimile.

Of course, though he may not have much use for a photograph, Ikari-kun probably is going to look back at the present much as he says he will.

It's just that he won't be doing that as a man with use for picture frames, but as a soul swept away in the currents of the sea of LCL.

A poet of the ancient world spoke of the world to come as 'the river styx, where the bloodless shadows wander without flesh or bone'. Perhaps it will be like that.

When that happens, he will of course know everything that I did not tell him, but he will also understand why, at once, without the issues of a longer process or the risk of misunderstanding.

He will see them why I felt I could not do it and I will see what it is like to be in his schoes despairing for the lack of answers.

The countless differences in our understanding and perceptions will become fully comprehensible to one another and when that happens, and we all see the same things and fully know another's feelings, it will not be possible to disagree on anything as we would all see the same things and fully understand each other's values. We would all see where each of us went wrong and the morself of wisdom that each of us had held and, in the end, every thought or feeling would be based on the same premises and therefore completely harmonized, as atoms blurring together as part of a Bose-Einstein condensate, and there would cease to be a distinction between us.

There would be no sense in thinking of one part of that whole as 'me' and of another part as 'Ikari-kun' – even those we might now comprehend the least, such as the Commander or the Second Child, would be completely illuminated to us, their every move so transparent as to seem inevitable.

So I suppose Ikari-kun wouldn't blame me.

That might also be what the Commander is banking on, that he is going to understand.

Many things we now take as unchanging fixtures of human life will vanish, yet memory will not be one of them. The things impressed on our souls will remain – even the ones we don't quite remember because of the physical limitations of human brains.

We will come there as a vector sum of all we ever where, and all of us will then be added up together.

Though it is hard to say what that resulting collective being would think about our memories, or if it would even value them.

In what ways will it still be us?

In particular, in what way will it still be me?

For I won't enter into this union as I am now, but Lillith will.

Still, I think that I will remember.

Even if he doesn't mean what he says, even if I will vanish from all memory just as it was said by that phantom of Lillith – or perhaps rather, the voice of my own fears, if Lillith too is just memory now – I don't think that I'll forget.

I'm actually genuinely sure about that.

How could these experiences not be carved into my soul?

They exist as surely as Lillith do.

Of course, I don't think Lillith could ever think of Ikari-kun in the same way as I do.

These moments are special because they're special to me; If you are not me, he is just an ordinary boy with any exceptional features.

But when Lillith does return, when she wakes up as if from a dream, I suppose she will find within herself the knowledge of what it is like to treasure one's time spend with an ordinary boy, to have him be special to you – and all my other experiences besides, everything I've seen, everyone whose path I crossed.

She'll know doubt and fear, enminity and dissapointment, and she'll know longing.

She will remember after a fashion, even if I cannot on account of effectively not existing anymore.

I'll be memory then, just as she is memory now.

It won't really be a comfort in any ways, for, if Lillith remembers what it was to be me, it will be with the knowledge that she can never go back.

But still, I think, I will remember him, even if we must be parted forever.

Of this, at least, I am certain.

I was here.

I influenced everything around me just a tiny bit, as a part of a chain of events, infinitemal and interchangeable as it may be.

That's not nothing, I suppose.

My being here was not completely nothing, even if it just ends up just a memory of Lillith's floating around in a sea of primordial sludge.


The script of EoE describes that one shot that's paired with the 'at the time my feelings were real' line as "a photo taken around the time of episode 16".

It never ceases to amuse me how fans of the 'Rei is just a plot device with no personality and you're supposed to hate her' interpretation use her supposed absence from that shot to underline their point while missing that she is actually in there right in front of their noses – she's just kind of hidden behind Touji, for the same reason that Kensuke has a model rifle with him, that Kaji & Misato seem to be in the process of getting in a tiff or that Asuka is doing a little devil handsign – the shot was meant to exposition everybody's individual quirks.