Avatar of Moonlight

by KendrixTermina

"In the beginning, there was the Light. And the light was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld her glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Mother,) full of grace and truth. She was in the world, and the world was made by her, and the world knew her not. She came unto her own, and her own received her not." Rei-centric

53. Fellowship

(Fellowship)

This is how it had always been:

The future stretches out before me like a fallow field.

In my proximity, there is nothing but a barren salt flat in which there is nothing for me to do but to gnaw at myself under the lifeless, mineralic light of a pale and distant moon;

In the distance, I see only darkness before me, looming on the horizon as an inevitability.

The Abyss is pitch black, and we are hurtling into it head first;

It's just that falling can feel just like weightlessness if you cannot see the bottom.

Physically it is the same, the difference only given substance by our emphemeral subjectivities.

Man can only have hope because he does not perceive the angel of death standing just behind him, and it falls to me to be that angel, for such is my task.

Therefore, I have never seen the point in seeking happiness.

To begin with, I didn't know it, so it was not clear to me to see what would be so desirable about it.

But if I did know it, I must know also that it is but a portend of torment: To delight in something is to know that you will suffer when it is ripped away.

Although happiness cannot indefinitely be avoided, just as sadness cannot;

Sometimes, though accident, it happens, just through the jumping of a thread in the machineries of the cosmos.

So then I thought, that if the torment is inevitable, if I've already paid for it, in a manner of speaking, might I not just as well perceive the delight, just while it is here?

I've already paid for it. It is mine.

The moment that you even grasp it with your thoughts, it begins to calcify and disassemble itself as you remind yourself of its absurdity, it's smallness and ephemerality, and how it shall pass-

But if you do not notice it, it will simply slip past before you notice it and tear its hole nonetheless, leaving you to lament some ‚good old days' that you were never conscious of while you were in them.

It is pointless to grasp at them – this much I know.

I suppose I'm trying, just a little, to be open to them.

To receive whatever rain falls with an unclenched body and an open heart and mind, and let it be whatever it insists on being, one way or another.

…

I continued to show up at the community garden.

If nothing else, it gave me something to look forward to each week, a semblance of texture in my existence, some moments that I wouldn't spend longing for their end.

At the beginning, the activities were laborious, but once I had become accustomed to them, they presented almost a kind of relief, a focused outlet for the nervous energy of the existential disquiet that otherwise filled my waking hours.

It filled me, at least for a moment.

I suppose there was something strangely meditative to pulling the weeds, probably for the same reason as yoga or the like – the constant changes of position leave you little time to think or reflect as all processing power is needed elsewhere, and once you've finished, you are worn out enough to find a true, dozing rest. It wasn't all bad, though each time made it require the transcending of even more resistance to continue. Something in me progressively protested the continuation of exertion, but as the work would not get done if I did not move, I kept moving.

If nothing else, I didn't want any of the other regulars to feel compelled to take over my portion of the work, and little by little, the area that was still waiting to be weeded shrank away.

It was rather like what I'd read in various books: There really is a particular satisfaction to making something with your hands, seeing a tangible change coming about.

It made my existence feel just the slightest bit less inconsequential for but a little moment… even if it did not take long for me to notice that the welfare of this little patch of plants was ultimately minuscule in the greater scheme of things.

There was no reason to feel great happiness, but the purely physical relief of having finished a long, hard session of work and being free to rest was rather prominent in what I could sense of my body, left sitting down at the edge of the small field, worn out hands ranging down at my sides now that they had served their purpose.

On the horizon, across from the mountains, the westering sun was beginning to tinge the sky with an orange hue.

I heard the grasses rustle behind me as one of the older ladies sat down, retrieving a water bottle from her backpack by the sounds of it. I did not have to see her face to hear the tone of tired but well-pleased satisfaction in her voice: "Man, I'm beat! We can really be proud of our work today!"

Can we?

Maybe we can. If nothing else, we did at last accomplish what we were trying to do, or a satisfactory degree of it, anyway, even if it wasn't perfect. It could not be expected to be perfect in the first place, when I'd only just started to do this…

The light breeze that passed us by was refreshing against the heat of our exertion.

For once, the sunset painting the sky seemed not a sunset of death but a sunset of completion, even if it was but a passing, subjective impression.

It was then that they asked me once again if I wanted to come with them to the bathhouse.

It wouldn't be the first time, but there was still something qualitatively different to the invitation – last time, I was here with Hikari, and so my being invited was just a function of her being invited.

The connection was that of a transitive property, like a friend of a friend, somebody's sister-in-law, or the dead wife of the widower you'd married.

Now, I was beginning to realize that they must have some concept or view of me that was independent from their concept or view of Hikari.

It was more out of habit that I pointed out that it wasn't strictly necessary.

"Nah, come on! It's only right to relax after a long day of work!"

"Don't worry about saving your pocket money", another lady interjected, likely mistaking the reason for my objection: "the bathouse fee's on us today."

At this point I had the paradoxical impression that I would be refusing them a favor or dashing some kind of hope by not imposing on them, so I simply fell in step with them when they left, following where they might go.

If it was something they wanted and got something out of, then there was a reason not to refuse, I suppose…

And it's not too strange that this would eventually happen, if you try to look at it from the perspective of a typical person – I remember reading that one of the most recommended ways to get to know people or form new bonds is to simply show up in the same place on a regular basic, whether that's a café, a bar, a community center or any kind of club, course or gathering of people with similar interests. Many contemporary thinkers have observed the disappearance of such 'third places' with much worry, especially seeing as it lead to a historically unprecedented lack of socialization between people of different age groups or socioeconomic classes, contributing to the general sense of alienation precipitated by various other factors… especially for youth, the presence of mentors, extended family, community members or older friends was generally associated with resilience and confidence, the figurative 'village' to raise them up that was found to be lacking nowadays when they were mostly confined to highly supervised environments with little room to develop their confidence or sense of agency, or to interact outside of authority relationships.

Of course, this had only ever been a purely theoretical piece of knowledge to me until now, a dry fact to be rattled off. It had always seemed to concern beings different from me, those who would want or need such entanglements and could stand to benefit from them. I never thought it would be relevant to me, that I could find myself just happening to pick up something like acquaintances by showing up somewhere on the regular – at most, I could have pictured myself reciting it to someone like Ikari-kun as a helpful piece of advice, or having the concept come up as I pondered something that did not involve me – a stranger gazing upon man, with the clarity of distance and yet lacking direct access to what seemed to be like an alien experience.

I think until this moment, this had been more of an implicit assumption, nothing crystallized in consciousness, but it occurred to me then that I had been thinking very much as if I did not count myself as one of 'the youth'… and yet…

"It's rare to see such a hardworking young girl in this day and age! You're Hikari's friend, right? What is your name?"

My name?

Ah.

It still always gave me pause to be spoken to, to realize anew that I am somehow this one being, associated with this one body that people can see, with its various associated strings of letters and letters:

"Ayanami Rei."

My time down here is for the most part over, and still I never got used to it.

"Pleased to meet you, Rei-san."

...what is that?

It's rare that anybody outside of NERV refers to me by my given name.

It feels out of place in the light of the sun.

That mode of appellation suggests that she is relating to me as some sort of winsome younger person – someone she would relate to in a nurturing fashion.

That….

That actually makes sense, given what she knows. If she thinks I'm just one of Hikari's classmates, then it seems natural to put herself in that position.

It still surprised me.

The response and the situation itself weren't truly strange, not all things considered, not objectively speaking.

What was dissonant was the idea of myself ever being the recipient of nurture.

That was not something I'd been designed for.

There would have been absolutely no point, when I was never going to be growing into anything.

What would have been the point?

What could possibly be good for me, when I was already headed nowhere from the start?

But of course, a grave is not for the dead.

A funeral is for the living.

It was as one who goes down to lay flowers on a grave that the commander had sometimes aped the motions of care with myself as a prop, but it was as a lonely girl playing with a doll, or a pet rock – the way that a person may wince in pain if they're told a pencil's same is Jeffrey and then see it snapped in half… but still understand that its a pencil.

It had the appearance of nurturance, and the rarity of such expressions on Commander Ikari's face in the face of his general lack of sentimentality had even allowed my heart to deceive itself, even if my mind had always known better.

Dr. Akagi, too, would bother sometimes to be nice in front of the staff, to put on a high voice, in the copy of a copy of an affectation of concern and oh, 'she's a perfectly nice girl, just a bit clumsy...' , but she ceased at once once the ignorant parties were out of the room, and proceeded to work on me like on any other slab of lab-grown meat she had handled, stripping layers with cutting, critical precision.

Major Katsuragi had come the closest to a convincing performance, all things considered, but she must have been looking to soothe her own guilty sentimentality, and she wasn't too insisted in trying again.

I had appreciated it when she gave up.

I thought Shinji Ikari was different, but I could not claim, in good conscience, that he would be a reliable witness, haunted as we both were by the ghost of Yui Ikari.

It seemed only natural.

For I knew I myself wasn't natural at all.

It was natural at everyone at school kept their distance.

It was something I had gotten so used to that it felt like the calm thing, the safe thing.

I must repell them.

I must have something repelling in my very skin and hair.

It just can't be avoided…

They may present on some level not to see it, to keep thinking of themselves as polite, for some kind of benefit, out of longing for the phantom of Ikari…

Maybe even out of genuine benevolence aimed at someone who didn't exist and could not receive them…

But it could never be truly meaning me.

And yet, after Hikari had invited me to the animal shelter and then onto her home… as these old ladies smiled and spoke to me…

I could not evade the tangible, simple truth that they had shown no sign of treating me different from any other one of them. It could not seem to argue against it, even when it seemed absurd, impossible, the kind of unlikely anecdote that you would feel inclined to dismiss based on your understanding of the topic at hand, or indeed the basic workings of the world.

To suspect them any further would have seemed like looking to be suspicious, and seemed more doubt and scrutiny than these humble people could have done anything to deserve.

They were simply treating me as someone to take care of, based on what they had of me so far.

And as that sank in, I thought of the subterranian catacomb that my name was usually wont to be spoken in, and when I considered that place – there place that I come from – The place I belong -

With its cold lights, its antiseptic smells, the touch of its metal surfaces and the regularly exhausted rolls of absorbent paper spread over and over again over medical beds, the only thought I could have was this:

"I have fooled them well."

These variously middle-aged amateur gardeners sincerely believed that I was a human being.

I'd been convinced that whoever it was would always be able to tell just a little...

But I suppose that wasn't reasonable. It would be a misunderstanding.

Humans cannot read each other's minds, of course, so they have to overlay their own emotional landscapes over the hearts of other, to try and reconstruct what another infinitely different individual may be feeling just from the broadest strokes they shared in common:

Two legs, Two Hands, a mouth.

This process was very imperfect.

That was supposed to be one of the major reasons why the human instrumentality project would be needed.

The best possible proof was to see these not particularly afflicted humans imposing a familiar empathic landscape on what must be an alien world.

How disturbed they might be if they ever learned the truth of what they had spoken to.

They might regard me then as the anglerfish-lure of something greater, copying without understanding, like an artificial intelligence that doesn't know it's aping a conversation by stringing together the most plausible words… or what a conversation even is, fundamentally, outside of a dry recitation of dictionaries?

I think I understand, but do I truly understand? Not just in the way that one may characterize a flower according to standards of taxonomy, but in the way that one feels compelled to call out 'a rose!' upon smelling it and calling up a hundred memories in recollection, every impression ever connected to the very concept of roses.

...the issue seems futile to contemplate when I am conscious enough to know suffering.

How cruel it is that I am conscious, merely as a side effect of aping a human, or an angel, and neither of those quite properly… why must I be conscious if, I am just going to dissolve into the foam like Andersens Little Mermaid?

And unlike her, there is no way for me to earn a soul of my own, not through the embrace of another, and certainly not through good deeds, neither my own nor those of little children.

(It would be absolutely fruitless to embrace me.)

From what I know of this world I find it hard to believe that it is governed by some sort of intelligence that sweetly rewards kindness.

I know of the plan and the angels and the first ancestral race, they have always been part of my reality, but that is what they are: Reality, harsh and lacking in arbitrary convenience – and above all, they're long gone, unless I count myself as some leftover god.

Some beliefs of course account all creatures to contain some semblance of divinity.

But what sort of god am I supposed to be? I cannot even help myself.

If I were a god, then it would be in the sense that the Greeks and the Romans pictured them, beings with some powers beyond humans and able to grant their prayers, but still subject to fate as much as mortals are.

Beings that cannot die no matter what, no matter how much the titans in tartarus or prometheus on his rock must have longed for it – not at all a result of natural vitality, but ensured by that machine down there in the dummy plug plants.

Long I had convinced myself that I was never going to be seen as one of them – not really, not for me not beyond the bounds of mere obligation.

I had made my peace with it, accepted its reality.

Yet only when this premise was in question did I realize that all these years, this belief may have been shielding me from ever considering an even greater fear:

What if they were, in fact, to treat me every bit like of them… and what if it turned out to be absolutely no good?

If there was nothing there inside me that could respond to it, no point in pouring into a bottomless hole that had never even come close to being a heart-scape?

…

I had known for a long time now that Neo Tokyo-3 had a public library.

There had been various times when I had considered visiting in – casual, passing thoughts that never really took shape. There had never really been a good moment, I had always been too tired, too close to finishing another scientific text from NERV, too unwilling to go back out into the heat when it really didn't seem to matter anyway.

I had always ended up telling myself that there was no real need and no real reason – I usually had other books at home, and in any case it would be thoroughly irrelevant to the instrumentality project.

I'd felt the mild stings of curiosity subtly pulling my eyes toward the sign the plans of the tokyo-3 metro that listed the city library as a destination worthy of its own station, but in the end, I always got off the train somewhere else first, wherever I had needed to go.

I thought it would be interesting to browse to a complete different collection of books that might have some things it never occurred to me to be interested in, but in the end the urge was never strong enough.

As this year began nearing its end, I did occur to me that as things were going, I might very well never end up going there, but there wasn't really much of a reason for that to matter, or consequently, for that to bother me.

But now, with the chill of that strange dream from the other day still lodged in my bones, it began to feel very real, in a much more visceral way, that this library was going to vanish without me ever going there, along with every other unique little place inside this city, along with similar places all over the country, and in all the world… along with places that I often looked forward to visiting now, though they were unknown to me just a few weeks ago.

So one day, I pushed past my reluctance and went.

All it took was to stay sitting in the tram just a little longer.

I could have stayed in my seat when it arrived at the correct station, but then I would have had to stay sitting there until the vehicle looped back around to the station closest to my apartment, so I wasn't going to get there any sooner.

So I got out.

The library was not hard to find, it was just across the street from the station named for it, situated within a large, modern building that seemed designed as a multi-purpose community center and contained other amenities besides.

It must have been built after the city had been repurposed as NERV's fortress, judging by its modern facade and what must have been a generous construction budget, before the work on the EVAs themselves and the regular need for repairs had begun claiming all the funds for itself – this facility must have been one of many means to attract workers to the artificially expanded, repurposed city, in the time before the angels attacked.

It had largely served its purpose by now – if anything, I believe the Commander would think it convenient if all but the essential personnel cleared out before the end.

If this place were destroyed this close to the final stages of the project, it may not be rebuilt.

Yet for now, it was still bustling with a surprising amount of people given the town's dwindling population, owing perhaps to the pleasant weather.

The lobby was full of adverts for various musical events, workshops or courses you could take, things I didn't know we had inside the city, though it was not unexpected for a town this size.

As I glanced over them, I wondered briefly what it may have been like to take part in them.

I did not linger long, however, and made by way up a wide flight of stairs to the library proper.

I was thinking to look in the non-fiction section, and perhaps also pay a visit to the speculative fiction corner – which I did end up doing, even checking out a couple of books after acquiring a provisional cardboard library card at the reception.

But what most remained in my memory from this day happened altogether unplanned, just as I was walking by the colorful couches and handful of toys that marked the children's section.

"Wooow! It's the girl with blue hair from the garden!"

Sitting on a small bean bag with multicolored patches was the little girl who gave me the radish that one time, dressed in a sunny yellow dress, her gap-toothed mouth wide open in undisguised surprise.

The first thing I felt was apprehension, maybe even resentment, that feeling you get when two different sauces that were supposed to go with different dishes touch on your plate and mix into something unrecognizable and unintended.

I'd been treating the time I spent at the community gardens or even with Hikari outside of school as something separate and secluded from my life at school, let alone NERV.

That's the only way it could exist or make sense, even for a fragile moment, without being drowned out by the reality that no one else knows.

Having it mix when I was supposed to have been moving through the city on my own was pulling on the fragile scaffold of whatever illusion had allowed me to exist here and experience these things…

But of course, the little girl was perfectly sincere, genuinely happy as she ran up to me, yet unbroken and dimmed in her cheer for life.

She didn't need such illusions to sustain herself; She didn't yet know of the things that would necessitate them. Perhaps she wouldn't even understand it yet.

She had several large, colorful children's book under her arm – the kind with thick cardboard pages designed for small clumsy hands.

"...wanna read?"

I glanced around the room – she was small enough that her guardians must have been nearby. Maybe they were browsing books themselves while leaving her to entertain herself in the kid's section, or perhaps they were downstairs in the small café.

I couldn't see them, but then again I could not see the harm in humoring her a little.

I went towards the couches with her.

When she notes this, she seemed overjoyed and skipped right back to her bean bag, her little sideways jiggling a little bit with every jump she made.

"Which one do you want to look at? Maybe the Hungry Caterpillar? Except if you already know that one."

"I do not." I replied, truthfully, "I am not familiar with any of them."

"Wow! You don't know the Very Hungry Caterpillar even though you're so big? I bet you're big enough to ride all the roller-coasters at the amusement park!"

"I'm not certain. I've never been to an amusement part."

"Really? That blows! I have to tell my mom & dad that we have to bring you sometimes. But don't worry, first, I'm going to show you the books! ...I kind of have to, since we don't have an amusement park right here."

Over the course of the next half-hour or so, I learned that the little girl was called Hare, and that her favorite Amusement Park attraction is one of those carousels where the seats are styled to look like little horses. It seems she would at times feud with her little brother over who gets to have which seats. I also heard her thoughts on assorted stories, most of which were simple, but thought-provoking all the same.

I would have thought that she wouldn't be too interested in talking to me with all of these toys and books around, but I think it brought her joy to have somebody listen to her thoughts.

It brought a strange warmth to my heart that she was this enthusiastic about meeting me, even if I understand that this was probably just because the very concept of walking around the place and meeting people was itself rather new to her.

In a sense, it was new to me, too, as is the experience of being welcomed with such warmth, simply for being there, being myself.

Meeting the little girl was like a surprise I didn't know I'd wanted, which nonetheless turns out to be exactly what you want.

Suddenly, it seemed less strange that the old ladies at the community garden would go out of their way to spend time with me. The thought occurred to me that they simply see me as I see little Hare. That my presence is simply… welcome, even if I don't really do anything.

I mean, some people keep cats in their house just for the company, right?

Perhaps I simply underestimated how much some humans can just… genuinely like being around other humans – just because. Just for its own sake. Just because they had come to expect each other's presence for long enough that they had become a part of each other's worlds.

…

I can't stop concluding 'this is what happened', grasping onto, labeling my experience.

It slows me down, overtaxes what I'm able to process - like taking a photo might distract you from your meal.

And yet the photo is a way of saying 'this was important' – to mark it as worth remembering, thereby perhaps causing a memory. Sometimes I've ended up remembering only thinking that I wanted to remember, not what I wanted to remind myself of – Like how a certain sonnet of Shakespeare's is still known, though it failed to preserve the memory of whoever it was written about.

Records or artworks might be a way to make an imprint last, but they don't truly capture it. Something is always lost in translation. Something is distorted in the act of preserving, because you must sometimes look away from your model to look at what your hand is doing on the canvas.

Try as I might to hold on, knowing of the limited time that I have, I can never retain everything that I experience nor a fraction of the experience that pours into my being each day, most of which I end up ignoring and filtering out in a futile attempt to trap that in amber which I am currently looking at – I have far too much sympathy for the framed and dried butterflies, for I think that I know pretty well what it is to be them, insofar that something that isn't them can hope to.

Maybe what I'm imagining and sympathizing with is very different from the simple truth of the matter;

Maybe all sympathy ever is nothing but sympathy with imagined ghosts and idols.

I often wonder what idol Commander Ikari is really speaking at when he talks to me;

What archetypic concept it is that the Second Child and DR. Akagi might be cursing in my place, what misunderstanding of likeness Hikari might be projecting onto my alien interior.

I dare not think about what Ikari-kun may or may not think he is speaking to;

I could only hope that every book I ever still will still, infinitesimally, have made me, like the meals I have eaten, though I don't remember all of them either.

This thought used to fill me a sense of futility, like I was collecting water with a holey sieve, the liquid trickling out and falling over my limbs as it refuses to hold its shape.

But such is the nature of liquids.

All I can really do is to let it flow and know that whatever will be retained will be retained, and that which won't be won't.

Even my most frenzied grasp could not make my mind hold a perfect image.

I might keep more than most, since I could not wholly stop my mind from it's grasping even it if I wanted to.

I might keep far less than most, since that very same trait ever separates me from every moment.

Even so, it is by this inertial pulling against time, this attempt to do something to reality that I get to experience myself as a separate, consistent being acting, at least a little, out of what I deem to be my own agenda -

It is through these closed manifold towers of inverted contemplation, sealed off from any other place, that I know that I think and feel, that I consciously will and inescapably desire.

Maybe that is my own way of being touched.

Of becoming as a still mirror in which the last remaining ripples can be seen all the more distinctly

like the bizzare particle crystals of ultracold physics, the faintest excitement on the violin strings of the universe, the faintest of all shadows or the lightest of all greys.

After all, the more vibrant and vital a surface is, the less that the individual waves and ripples can be distinguished.

I grasp at experience because I don't want to end up feeling something that I didn't foresee.

So that I do not fall prey to some treacherous hope which would be my undoing.

Though I insincerely lament the days not touching me, it seems absurd to expect them to when it is I who cannot suffer their touch, like the flesh of an oyster that was never made to face the air without its shell.

I don't want this world to grasp me and touch me and throw the drop that is in the ocean into turbulence, like streaks of color spreading out inside a liquid without being truly distinct, ever slowly spreading out, and fading away into the indistinct substance.

...

Another piece of information that I thought would never apply to me:

A passage in a book, written from the point of view of a young adolescent girl, likely intended to be somewhat humoristic – I honestly don't remember much else of it. It wasn't very engaging.

I think Major Katsuragi gave it to me, back when she was still 'trying to be nice', probably thinking that a book with a protagonist around my own age would be something I might like.

I did read it because, it was there, so I might as well, but to be honest I didn't really see any connection between me and the largely trivial events described within the book.

The protagonist had some conflict with some of her friends, so far as I remember. That was before I'd even had any friends and to be honest, the depiction in the book had not made it seem appealing.

But one passage I recall is that when introducing the group she was later going to be in conflict with, the protagonist speaks about different 'tiers' of friendship to establish their exact level of closeness.

She says that there were 'work friends' – just above acquaintances, people you interact with in a particular setting, like work, or school, or some particular activity. People you may lose sight of the shared activity ceased.

Then there are what may be termed 'café friends', maybe, though she referred to a popularchain of cafés rather than cafés in general. Those would be the friends that you invite and keep in contact with outside the original setting where you met them – people whom you deliberately choose to invite into your life and keep them there.

Lastly, there were what she termed 'sleepover friends', people you would let sleep at your house – though I understand that the term was more exemplary than an absolute prescription. It really refers to someone you would materially support or take up into your household if there were a crisis, whom you would not mind seeing every day, someone who represents a kind of chosen family or pseudo-kinship. The ones that a person may bankrupt themselves to help, the sort of blood-brotherhood or 'true camaraderie' for the sake of which heroic deeds are done in ancient epics and popular anime alike.

When I first read that book, I thought this was a bit simplistic, and that the main character seemed a bit to concerned with hierarchies and labels to be someone I would chose to be around.

But now I thought back to her because I didn't have a better framework to characterize these recent changes in my life.

Back when I got that book, I didn't have experience with any of these categories – I could barely count Commander Ikari as a warm acquaintance, or at most the Major.

I cannot say that I really set out to change that, either.

It simply just happened. If there was a difference on my part, it was simply that I had allowed it, that I had shown up, opened the door, stopped standing in its way.

Hikari may have started spending time with me much earlier if I had been more receptive to it.

My first friend was probably Ikari-kun, even if it was somewhat prompted by circumstance. But whatever secondary role his parents may have played in all this, first and foremost he repeatedly went out of his way to approach me since we were the only pilots at the time – though I would say that, at this point, our involvement had gone beyond just being fellow pilots or classmates. I had invited him to my home to have tea, for example.

Hikari, too, might now be considered to be present in more than one sphere of my life when we started doing things outside of school.

Besides that, there were now the people from the community garden, and perhaps Aida and Suzuhara, too, since Ikari-kun now sometimes brought me along to sit with them during recess and the like. I can't say that I had really spoken with any of them outside of the content we had met in, but they were probably going to notice if I disappeared, were it not for NERVs capacity for producing an exact double to take my spot.

I wonder if the next 'Rei Ayanami' would continue showing up at the community garden if that happened. I was honestly undecided as to whether I would wish her to.

Be that as it may, I was well aware that the phrasing with the 'sleep-over' friends referred to more than just literal sleepovers and that it might not necessarily mean that I had advanced to more further inner circle just because I was invited to one.

But as it stands, Hikari did ask me to spend Saturday night at her residence with her.

When I arrived at the Horaki residence, there was already someone standing in the doorway, cast in shadow by a cone of golden light emanating from within.

I could hear the sounds of the exchange wafting over to me like the scents of a hearty meal that can be smelled from far off… indeed, there may have been a bit of that, too.

A small little silhouette came running from the house, too short to be the youngest sister – "Mommy's there!"

The situation clarified itself before I could do much more than narrow my eyes:

"Thank you so much for helping me out today, Hikari. Whatever would we do without you!"

"Don't worry about it! We all have to help each other."

By then, the small boy had reached the woman at the door, and without much fanfare, his small hand slipped into hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I can only assume that it is, based on millions of years of mammalian evolution.

I find myself in the minority that wouldn't know, along with those fish and octopi that hatch only after the demise of the organism they had sprung from, if that could even be applied as an analogy.

Is plastic the child of the oil it was made from, or the ancient trees from which the oil hails?

I hastily moved aside to allow the woman and her child to pass to the street proper – in passing, I heard her asking the child whether or not he'd been a good boy, and promised to play with him later.

The impression of his little hand held in hers, shadowed in the twilight, lingered heavily in my consciousness.

I wondered if there was ever any time when anyone would hold my hand like this – the Commander, maybe? Had he ever taken me home?

(A timeless, dateless, context-less memory of a creaky rusted swing-set in an overgrown garden plays in my mind.)

At the very least, I rather doubt that he would ever have played with me.

At last, Hikari ended up spotting me, greeting me and ushering me inside her home.

She explained in passing that this lady was a neighbor whose child she sometimes helped to babysit for some slight remuneration:

"I'm not old enough to get a proper job like my big sister, but I try to contribute to our family as much as I can."

"You are truly admirable." I found myself saying, without any particular reason or calculation.

I just found that thought coming into my mind and I wanted it to be voiced.

"Whether it's at home, or at school or in your neighborhood, you are always doing what you can to make a positive impact on people wherever you go."

I was simply struck by it as an inescapable impression… how involved she was with others and their welfare, how connected she was to everyone around her, how capable of being motivated by their plights.

I was not even jealous, for jealousy implies some resentment for being unable to obtain the desired thing oneself, and I knew well that this would never have been possible for me.

It was just proof of what a different kind of existence she was –

Ikari-kun was someone who kept to himself while longing for union, so with him, there was room for question, but with Hikari, I didn't really need to wonder whether she would welcome me when it would be time for me to come and take her out of the life that she clearly enjoyed and took pride in, even when it contained hardship.

She was an authentic human being with a functioning self-preservation drive. The Commander had told me that the average person may reject the idea of instrumentality simply out of conventionality or because of its incompatibility with blind, mindless animal instincts in opposition to pure reason, but sometimes, I looked at Hikari, and wondered if she would even need instrumentality.

She already seemed to have a state of unity with those around her for all intents and purposes that truly seemed to matter.

She was a force for good wherever she went – if she were to disappear, I had no doubt that she would surely be remembered a long time by many people.

She seemed the exact opposite of me in very possible way.

"That is something that I cannot do, therefore, I admire and respect it."

It was, of course, quite predictably in line with that admirable character of hers that she would contradict this:

"I don't think that's true at all – if anything, you are doing more than anyone to keep us all safe by fighting those monsters with your EVA."

...was I?

I had liked to think that it connected me to others, somehow.

For the longest time, it was really the only means I had for that.

And yet, I felt like I was barely even there.

Was I even here? Can just going through the motions of what human beings consider friendship be considered the same as actually experiencing it, or am I not just imitating?

We ended up having dinner – Hikari had made sure to make something with tofu this time, probably to my benefit.

She loaned me an old fashioned padded kimono to ensure I would be warm enough in the night.

We ended up playing numerous board games with her sisters.

During that there was an incident where I tried to address her for some purpose and ended up summoning both her father and older sister – the confusion was quickly resolved, but it was maybe because of that that, when we went to bed, she let me know that she actually wouldn't mind if I were to just call her by her first name, if I were to assent to her doing the same with me.

I did, but largely because I wouldn't know when that would be appropriate.

I was simply following after her lead, going along, doing what might be expected, how one would be supposed to act, as vague and uncertain as my idea of that may have been.

I still felt as if I were grasping for things in pitch black darkness.

It felt somewhat like an obligation, as if there were some unwelcome, uncomfortable touch in her using my name.

Was this not just another form of doing what I'm told?

Of following the script so that everything would fall into a predictable pattern?

I was aware that it represented a shift, an increase in closeness.

It's possible that Hikari felt it quite sincerely and yet at the same time, I was only less inclined to attach much meaning to it if that sincerity could coexist with my complete detachment.

Of course, the experience that two people can have of the same moment can be wildly different, even down to whether a given instant is worth remembering or not.

This is likely precisely why the Commander considers the Instrumentality Project to be needed.

But the asymmetry… bothered me.

I couldn't say if it was anything like irritation or guilt… most likely sadness, insofar as I was capable of that.

It's as if I were deceiving her, because she was so sincerely glad to see me here, so genuinely happy, and I didn't know if I was even capable of bonding in the way that she wanted.

I didn't think she would lie.

I had no reason to think that she was holding anything back – that she didn't see me as her friend every bit as much as she did the Second, for example, who may have likewise spent the night in this very same futon at some point. Maybe she had even borrowed this same padded kimono.

I am not… indifferent to Hikari, of course.

If I were, I would not be bothered.

It would all be much, much easier then – I probably wouldn't even have come here.

I did like her.

Just not in a way that was enough. Just not in a way that would be of use for her.

Not in a way that counts.

It's not even because of any issue I would have with her, but because I don't think I have that in me. Not for anyone.

Friends are supposed to tell each other things, right?

But there was much that was fundamental to my existence that I could never tell to anyone.

Friends owe each other loyalty. Am I loyal?

It may well be that Instrumentality would be accounted 'better' for Hikari and it would be quite convenient if I could convince myself that I simply knew better than her, but how could that be, when I could not even understand her?

I owed her better than to disrespect her autonomy like that.

On the occasion of my last visit, she had told me what she wants, and it's not instrumentality.

She wants to grow up and have children, and pass on her family's recipes to them.

And I, as her supposed friend, am not getting her what she wants.

I am acting directly against it.

I can't do anything to change the inevitable, surely, but I could imagine that, if for example Ikari-kun were in my place, or perhaps the Second, knowing what I know, then both of them would certainly defy that dictum even knowing the likely consequences, because they would not listen to what their minds tell them: Ikari-kun would be led by his heart, and the Second by her animal instinct, and those would lead them to defy both fate and reason.

It would be futile, of course.

That's why I was not doing that.

I knew it wasn't possible – no, even if it were possible, the consequences may be unpredictable and disastrous, most likely ending with the total extinction of mankind, so that it would not even endure in the Sea of LCL as in the Commander's stipulations.

Despite everything that happened since, I could still see no alternative to the conclusion which I had once told Ikari-kun when he confronted me last month:

Of all the possible paths, this was the least worse.

Ikari-kun and the Second may not see this.

And yet, in that futile defiance, they would nonetheless prove themselves truer friends – nonsensical in their actions, perhaps, but without doubt beautiful and deeply human, each in their own, very different way.

What beauty can there possibly be in an empty vessel like me?

...

My visit to the library was not the only time that I would encounter little Hare outside of the community Garden.

It happened one time that I was walking somewhere – I don't recall exactly where – but I was going past a fence that I had walked past many times before, without paying much attention to it.

I had been vaguely aware that there was a large meadow on the other side of it, some large plot of land that wasn't currently seeing much use or perhaps belonging to the furthest reaches of some park or so, I didn't really know.

I must have passed it countless time on my way going from and to school, without ever paying much attention to it.

Now, however, there was a sudden call, the ringing out of a familiar voice that drew my sights, maybe for the first time, to the greenery past the fence.

I could spot an entire group of little girls, Hare from the Community Garden among them, holding in their hands various bunches of daisies, dandelions or clover flowers which they had ostensibly been picking.

"Hello Ayanami-san, Good afternoon!" - "Wanna make flower crows with us?"

I didn't really know where the nearest opening in the fence was.

I wasn't sure if it would be considered appropriate for me to go to them.

Besides, I think I was on my way somewhere – something to do at NERV, training perhaps.

I don't really remember – what had once been the only purpose of my being melted away within the margins, as it always had, really, only that it used to leave me with nothing.

"Maybe some other time!"

"Aaaallrighty!"

And they ran off, frolicking through the grass, aiming, most likely, for the next path of nondescript little flowers.

I wondered then what it might have been like to have a younger sister, to watch a small being grow and expand in its abilities.

I wondered what it would have been like to be a young girl, and run in the grass there, though I could never go back and experience it, not unless I could somehow forget all I knew, along with everything I had ever experienced.

I could never become like a child – without preconceptions, without disillusionment, ready to absorb and learn anything, become anything.

I could not even hope to have a daughter of my own and maybe watch as she gets to be a young girl.

…

Before I used to have books, or even clothes, I used to have a collection of beakers, flasks and test tubes.

I was then confined to that one, cavernous room in the buried bowels of NERV HQ, shut up in there as surely as the Lady of Shallot in her tower, knowing even then that only the nearing of my death could release me.

I would sit there stark naked, on the very hard workbench that I was probably assembled on, and my predecessor before me.

I never had any conventional toys, so the various transparent vessels were the closest things to that:

I used to like the smoothness of their glass and feel across it many times, especially if they had curved surfaces. I used to like the coolness of the water on my fingers, the way drops would detach from them and fall down as rounded beads, or spreading ripples on the surface, just as we are all just ripples on a surface of various quantum force fields.

I had picked them up here and there when they were not in use, and I used to line them up, sorted according to one measure or another, but always containing some water, so that the light may fall through them, and create the most minuscule of rainbows.

I didn't know what daylight was, no rain had ever fallen on me, and I had never seen a bird yet, but that brief evocation of novel colors was probably my very first impression of beauty, the very thing within existence that was not entirely awful.

The play of the light in the various vessels delighted and fascinated me, and for a while, I would take any glass vessel that was no longer needed, fill it with water, and set it on the floor, watching it cast flickering, transparent shadows. Observing how the room would seem to bend if I cast my glance through it.

I think on one occasion, Sub-commander Fuyutsuki nearly stepped on one and irkedly lay down some rules as to where they were allowed to be. This, I followed, like every other order at the time.

I took one of the beakers with me when I left, it is on my fridge right now, though I've mostly put it to the perfectly pragmatic purpose of drinking water to wash down my medication. I did not bring any others because I figured they would not be needed. The steady rythms of my duties lead me away from such childlike pursuits as watching beams of light or rainbows.

I had not thought about this for a long time now, but somehow, something over the course of the recent past must have touched on the memory, causing it to bubble to the forefront on my connsciousness right away.

I noticed the refracted ray of light streaking across the ceiling in the dimness before me right now.

I thought of the glimpse of refracted light that I had seen as a child.

I thought of the refracted light playing in the light collector panels the other day.

I suppose that it is only natural to look back to where something began when you realize that it is coming to an end.

I could keep that compartementalized away to an extent, keep moving regardless as I floated through my days and the tentative, welcoming warmth that filled them at present, but I could never truly forget them.

Most certainly not when I found myself returning here at the end of each day.

...

Even if I walk among all the others in the community garden, doing the same labor and shedding the same sweat, I cannot ever seem to forget that I am only a guest here.

That I can never be part of it.

That it is only a thick wall of ignorance and secrets that allows me to be here, that I am here because I shut my mouth, because I do not expect them to understand be – for that same reason that I have been allowed to play some part at NERV rather than floating unconnected to anyone and anything.

How dare I play at this? At being a person instead of an object?

At being a living being rather than a thing of the tomb, an insubstantial ghost that cannot touch or be touched?

How could I forget it even for a moment when, much like a vampire, I must return to my glass casket beneath the soil lest I fall to dust?

It was then that something tugged at my train of thought, something from the outside, something that stood out to me.

Two of the older ladies were discussing some mutual acquaintance who, as I understood it, had recently given birth. As it happens, the delivery seems to have been difficult, but in the end, both mother and child had pulled through.

I didn't even really notice that the corners of my mouth had been creeping slightly upward all on their own accord until another of the ladies stopped in her tracks, so that the others followed suit.

"Well would you look at that! Looks like our young Miss Rei can laugh after all!"

I wasn't sure what to do when all the attention suddenly turned to me.

It was unfamiliar. Uncomfortable.

I wondered if I'd done something wrong.

"I- was just thinking… about the cat."

"A cat?"

"A cat from the local animal shelter. I had been vising it occasionally, after Hikari invited me to volunteer there once. It just had kittens, so, when you mentioned your friend giving birth, I just thought of that. The kittens were healthy, so I was glad. I'm glad about your friend too, of course."

"Aww~"

"How sweet!"

"Don't you worry, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm not at all surprised that she's a cat person."

"She does seem the type, doesn't she?"

Do I?

My only reference point was Dr. Akagi, whom I cannot say I found much commonality with.

I can only picture how offended she would be if anyone made the suggestion that we had anything in common.

I knew very well what she thought of me.

She never made much of a secret of it.

It never occurred to me to blame or resent her for it because, so far as I knew, I had reason to think that it was the only natural reaction to me. I was an off-color knock off of a human being, something that was natural to fear. I believed the phenomenon was known as the 'uncanny valley'. I could not deny that it applied.

I could not think of any kind of counter-evidence, at the time.

I'd spend all my life surrounded by Dr. Akagi touching me in the rude, businesslike manner of an engineer handling her machine, by Sub-commander Fuyutsuki averting his eyes in regret and painful memory – even Commander Ikari never flinched or hesitated to subject me to something agonize, even if he might at times vaguely bother with the pale imitation of a smile.

When my classmates kept their distance from me, I was barely even surprised anymore.

I'd accepted it as inevitable.

It never occurred to me that things could be different, let alone that to cause such a difference might be in my power – that it may have been as simple as saying yes to Hikari's offers that I once saw as incomprehensible ritual or at least a sad, misguided act.

By all means, they should all be repulsed by me, just as Dr. Akagi and the Second. Just as Sub-commander Fuyutsuki, though he dare not say it. Just as I assumed everyone else might, even if they were to push past that natural revulsion out of obligation.

As an explanatory model, it was perfectly self-consistent.

Yet I wondered now if it was a case of over-fitting due to insignificant data – merely causal bias, availability heuristic, an unfalsifiable claim.

The more time I spent surrounded by these people, the harder and harder it became to justify the view that that previously seemed self-evident – that there must be something about me that intrinsically repulses people.

Who would have thought that people could actually be happy to see me?

Sure, there had been the Commander, but he did not actually mean me, and even if he did, he did not care enough that it would ever fetter him in his pragmatism.

Yes, there had been Ikari-kun – and this, I had then cherished like an inexplicable gift – but he was desperate, too, and lacking for options, and who could say what he was really seeing?

But with all these other people, the least convoluted explanation genuinely is simply that they care. Why would they not? It would seem irrational to assume the opposite. The old ladies are probably the clearest case out of anyone I know, besides Hikari, for whom the same applies. There's no reason to mistrust them, no agenda from NERV, no trace of Yui Ikari's shadowy ghost haunting me in this plain daylight.

All this time, I had assumed that I could not be accepted by others.

Now, I was beginning to have to ask myself if I wanted to.

I would have said that I didn't care for it, that I was fine without it.

But there is no reason to resist it, or to go looking for reasons why it can't be.

So why would I do that?

I don't need Lillith to tell me, nor any other imprint or voice from within me.

At this point, I think that I could tell myself:

Because of fear.

The fear that I am not a person, that what I take to be myself is merely an illusion, a thin veneer over a reality that is to unfathomably alien that others cannot possibly connect with it.

The fear that if I said what I truly wanted to say, if I voiced what I truly thought, what I truly saw… if I showed what I truly felt, they would be repulsed. Horrified.

They would think me mad, defective, a mockery of humanity.

They would see me exactly as Dr. Akagi, Sub-Commander Fuyutsuki and Commander Ikari would see me.

I am of course aware that there can sometimes be a bias in which people see the world in a way that is distorted by their early experiences, but I just never thought of it as possibly applying to me. I was born in a machine. How could anything possibly compare to me?

How could they not fear touching me when…

When even I feared touching me? The fullness of that something that stirs in the dephts of my being. I was positive that if I touched it, I, or that which I'd thought of as me, would surely be destroyed. Blown away like smoke in the wind.

Because it would be too alien. Too overwhelming. Too uncontrollable. To intense compared to the flimsy gray sameness of my days to leave any of me standing. I was certain that it would surely destroy my idea of who I was – and this, when who I thought I was and the meaning that I assigned to my experiences were the only tenuous control that has ever been left to me in this dreary existence as a powerless cosmic plaything.

Surely it must be this way…

But had I really known?

Could I truly say?

Was this a fact, or was this only what I thought?

Was this proven, or was it merely what I feared?

How would I really know that I would always repulse others?

How do I know that what's inside of me is bound to be to them as garbled insane ravings?

Could I really, really say that for certain?

If was afraid, it would be because the truth was unknown to me.

What I feared was the idea I had in my mind of what would happen if I should find it to be so.

Because I didn't know it to be otherwise.

What I feared was what could be.

I didn't know that what I had within me wasn't monstrous.

Of course I didn't.

What could I know of something I refused to touch?

And so the fear had sustained itself.

Perpetuated itself.

It occurred to me, in that moment, that anything could seem fearsome and alien so long as it was unknown.

Man fears the dark.

Perhaps whatever part of me is born from man, or shaped by man, or has chosen man because it feels for man, now fears the dark also.

But it had been easier to speak of man and the dark as if they were foreign things that did not concern me.

It was easier of anything, probably. It put it in context.

Made it manageable, and therefore, bearable.

And I needed things to be bearable because so many of them were not.

So I did not touch what was inside of me, because it was too painful.

I thought no one would care about what is inside of me.

That it didn't matter, that it was irrelevant, impossible to be realized.

To see it, to know it, to touch it only ever promised pain.

Or that, at least, is how it always was in that dim, damp, dark room down there in the bowels of NERV headquarters.

Nothing in that little closed off world had ever truly responded to me, so I had stopped asking anything of it.

No one seemed to perceive that there was anything inside of me, so I figured that whatever it was could not be real – that it couldn't be shown to others, understood by them, recognized, accepted.

The only semblance of a connection I was able to have was through playing the part of an Evangelion pilot – The Commander might smile upon me so long as I did not expect him to truly care.

The only way for me to be here was for me to not be here.

What had changed now?

Nothing did, not really.

My circumstances, the in-human condition in which I find myself are perfectly unchanged.

At most, my experiences and my entanglements with others have continued to shape me further, just as they always had.

I was still me. I was still not like the others.

I had not become like others. That was still as impossible as I had ever been.

But somehow, it didn't seem to matter as much?

I was no longer locked inside that room.

I felt the wind blowing.

The grass underneath my feet.

The warmth of the fading sun.

I could almost feel the outline of Ayanami Rei, outlined by these miscellaneous sensations.

Not melting, not evaporating, not blowing away like a gust wind,

as a footprint, not yet flooded,

waiting for the tide to come in.

...

I think I was beginning to understand it now. That thing called a dream that had once confounded me.

By this, I don't mean the recent vision of my destruction – I had known what that meant right away, for it had been painfully obvious.

I mean the other thing, that other, much more confusing thing from further back –

The actual dream, of that other me that I didn't know.

The one where I was a transfer student and both NERV and the EVAs were nowhere to be found.

What I saw in that dream must have been the me that isn't an EVA pilot.

Something that could be possible only in dreams when my prefrontal cortex would not be sufficiently active to check the contents of my consciousness for logical consistency, allowing for this idea, this impossible scenario where there was no NERV, no EVAs, no Commander Ikari, yet still, absurdly, I was somehow still there, as if the world just wouldn't be complete without me.

It was a world where I was simply there, of my own account, with the exact same right to be there as everyone else – a world where I could meet Ikari-kun unencumbered by any ghosts or corpses and simply be what my heart felt I was, if its word were allowed to stand by itself without the cruel objections of reality: Simply a classmate who cares for him.

Simple as that.

If the idea was garish and ridiculous, that would be because I couldn't really imagine it.

Because I honestly didn't know how to imagine myself, what would even be left if you subtracted the dead shells of what I was created for.

I could not escape the painful conclusion –

The one, forbidden wish that was the germ of that idea, that I had wanted to simply be with my classmates.

But I still couldn't really imagine it, not even in my dreams. I couldn't imagine myself living in such a world, or for the person in that world to really be me.

It was a madness that I could only allow in my dreams, because I knew it to be impossible.

I didn't use to bother remembering my dreams at all.

But now, there had been moments where I felt as though I could belong, brief and scattered and ultimately illusory as they may have been, so neither could I ever forget them again.

It is precisely as it has been said: Once a man has dreamed that he is a frog, he can never again be sure if he is a man who dreamed that he is a frog, or a frog who thinks he is a man.

And thus do I, who once never allowed myself illusions, find myself snared in dreams within dreams within dreams: Lillith dreaming that she is a thing that dreams of being a girl, and yet, though she is both a dream and a dreamer, she cannot help but be filled with the fear and doubt of reality, even without ever touching it.

She doubts because she isn't a girl, but she fears because she isn't Lillith either.

...

I think I had decided that I was a 'cat person' after all.

At least, I had made it a point to regularly visit the shelter and drop off some donated toys and cat food. Dog and rodent food as well, to some extent.

I wasn't using the money much, so at least somebody might.

No, more than that, I couldn't let go of that image in my mind… all the cats and dogs locked up in those small little kennels. The mesh fences, the cage bars, the impersonal gray concrete floors.

The way all these sentient, feeling creatures existed without anyone to cherish them as special.

The workers at the shelter were dedicated and caring enough, but there were only so many of them… It was just like NERV.

And just like me, these little ones couldn't do anything about their fates. It was not in my power to change them either, even to adopt a single one of them was outside my means.

They were excess existences, discarded as unwanted toys.

Yet still my presence might change at least a little, at least for a few of them, so they wouldn't feel completely and utterly forgotten.

One day, the people at the shelter were taking pictures of the animals to help them get adopted. The images were supposed to go online. I offered to help with that and so, at the end of a long day, I happened to take a picture with the cat I had been visiting and all her furry little offspring which was now beginning to show more interest in the outside world now that their senses were starting to develop, after having begun their existence as a meowing pile of fur.

Every time I looked at it, I recalled how soft the kittens's little backs had felt under my hands.

So when the people at the community garden asked me how my week had been, I finally had something to tell them.

Little Hare in particular was ecstatic: "Kitty kitty kitty!"

One of the old ladies remarked that it was one of the cutest things she'd ever seen since her nephew grew out of his diapers.

In the ensuing discussions, two suggestions were made, one impossible and one that left me uncertain. The first was whether I wanted to adopt one of the kittens.

The thought had never occurred to me before – now I wish that it never did, because the answer was obviously going to be no. Hikari suggested that my guardian might not allow it, but I don't think permission would be the issue here, I do not think that anyone at NERV would particularly care if I did so long as it didn't affect my piloting. But therein lay the problem: What if I were to get injured, and once again spend several weeks in the infirmary? Who would care for the kitten then?

Besides, kittens need to spend at least eight weeks with their mother – if at all possible, as much as fourteen weeks may be recommended for proper development.

So by the time they would be ready for adoption, Third Impact would only be a short while away, and the destruction of the city may be imminent. I would not be doing it a favor by keeping them from going to someone who would evacuate them outside the city.

They were little kittens; Out of all the animals in the shelter they should have just about the easiest time being adopted. So I would rather that it was someone who could provide them a safe and steady home.

I did, however, intend to keep visiting them… sort of like Hikari did, to make up for how they didn't have room for animals with her large family.

But another remark that was made in response to the photos turned out to be much more technically feasible – "You all look so cute… but you're wearing the same uniform again. I think you might look even cuter if you tried wearing some different clothes."

Should I try wearing different clothes?

My uniforms and the few sleeping and swimming clothes that I had fulfilled the function of protecting my body from the elements perfectly fine, so they had always seemed sufficient to me.

Even the additional function of preserving decorum had at times struck me as superfluous.

Of course I am aware that these were not the only reasons why people wear or own clothes.

If I hadn't read about it, I would have picked it up from the conversations of my classmates, or the occasional conversations of the NERV staff. It was not rare to see Major Katsuragi and Dr. Akagi discussing what to wear to some outing with their mutual friends.

There was supposed to be some element of aesthetics, and of expression, too, sometimes they also served to signal allegiance.

It had never seemed to relevant to me before.

I thought it tedious to be responsible for excess things.

Why should I bother with something pointless, when I had so many tedious things to do already?

It didn't concern me.

I was fine to make do with the barest minimum of unnecessary things that I could get away with.

Or at least, that was how I thought about it when I held that the wider world outside of NERV had nothing to do with me – when I saw going to school as merely part of a charade rather than a place where I might encounter others.

The fact of the matter was that people generally had a larger selection of casual clothes to wear outside of school – it might be considered a requirement to exist out there, just like how one would be assigned a name, an address and a tax number.

I had been given a name to be filed under at NERV, an address to be signed up to school and a uniform in order to actually go there.

That much had simply been deemed necessary – and so that is what I stuck with, but that was before I had considered the possibility of actively participating in the world around me of my own free choice.

Was wearing different clothes something that I wanted to participate in?

I needed to consider that.

In truth, I cannot say that popularity games or passing fashions interested me in any way. There seem to be plenty of humans who are not interested in that, either.

But aesthetics? Expression?

I can see how that may have some value to it, at least to the extent of being worth trying.

The antsy, uneasy reluctance that remained in my chest must be the fear that I might find that there won't be anything to express. That I'll find myself lacking in sense of aesthetics.

I don't know how – just – based on something intrinsic to humans that I didn't possess.

Was this reasonable, thought?

I cannot say how it is with humans, but I certainly recall some memories and impressions of being struck by beauty, scattered but noteworthy memories.

Beauty doesn't need to exist in some flat, commodified form.

It can just be beauty, like sparkles on water, or sun falling through leaves.

I think I knew what beauty is, what I liked and didn't like in terms of aesthetics.

Besides, her offer to take me shopping for clothing was the one request of Hikari's that I hadn't taken up yet. She had been willing to understand me, so why not come along to have a look at something she likes to do, and give it a fair try?

It didn't have to be anything more than that.

It didn't have to be tainted with the pressure of whether or not I could fulfill some expectation of what is typical.

Of course it had been long since she had asked me and I had turned her down time and time again, so I couldn't be sure that she was even still interested. It could well be that I lost my chance by waiting too long – so when I sought her out so as to inquire about that, I tried to be careful with my expectations: "I can understand if this is something you rather prefer to do with the pilot of Unit Two."

I would have expected her to look a little somber when the subject was brought up, seeing as she had always found our lack of a better working relationship rather regrettable – however, the response went beyond what was usual for her in that regard, as if my words had touched on some additional factors that further darkened her countenance.

I expected that whatever it was may well remain unsaid as it wouldn't concern me directly, but as it turned out, Hikari seemed to feel a compulsion to share it on her own accord:

"...Actually, it's been a while since we've really hung out. I've asked her, but she doesn't feel like it. She's been in a pretty bad mood lately…"

Truly?

I'm not sure that I really noticed.

I was long used to her taking out her frustrations on me; It all just blurred together into something I might summarize as her usual abrasiveness.

This is not to say that I doubted Hikari's judgment. She probably spent a lot more time with the Second, and, more importantly, knew what it was like to be around her when you aren't somebody whom she hates. She may be inclined to view her actions more sympathetically, in a way that would be hard for one who suffered her as I did, no matter how much I might aspire to looking upon her without bias. I could not claim to be without it, so, I saw this as an opportunity to learn new information that wasn't accessible to me, whatever my personal sentiments may be.

"At first, I thought it was just a bit of heartbreak… I'm not sure if you know, but apparently, Major Katsuragi and Mr. Kaji have gotten back together. Asuka-san always had a crush on him – of course, nothing was ever going to come of that. Frankly, if I thought there was actually something between them, I would probably call the police. But it's normal that she would be upset, right?

Sometimes, a bit of heartbreak is just a part of growing up…

But if it was just that, you would expect her to get over it eventually. I even tried to set her up with a friend of my sister to help her move on, but it was no good. Maybe he just wasn't her type, but still, if anything, I think her mood has been getting even worse…

I was actually meaning to ask you if there was something going on at NERV that might explain this.

I feel bad about going behind her back like this, but she just won't talk to me and I feel like if I brought it up any more I would only end up pushing her away... There haven't been any evacuations or alarms lately, but I guess we might not be told if the monsters attacked somewhere else, or if you defeated them in secret…"

"There haven't been any. The intervals in which they arrive have been fairly irregular before."

Predictably, this did not really seem to assuage her worries at all.

It didn't mean that there was nothing to worry about, only that the cause was unknown.

"I honestly cannot think of anything – all we have been doing as of late are routine tests and basic training. The only thing that even comes to mind is maybe that her test scores have been a little on the lower side for a few consecutive times, but nothing out of the ordinary or outside her typical range. In terms of statistical significance, it could be pure coincidence."

"...So you think she's just… a little frustrated because of a bit of bad luck, right?"

"I can't speak with any certainty."

"But it's possible, right?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"I really, really hope you're right…"

From the grave pause that followed, I could gather that she was really, really concerned…

In hindsight this would actually be the first thing that struck me as a sign that anything out of the ordinary might be going on. But I didn't say so then.

I couldn't have been sure of anything.

Be that as it may, eventually, we agreed on a time and place to meet at one of the local shopping malls, another part of the city that I had honestly never been to before, even if it is supposedly considered one of the city's sights.

When I came through the entrance into the modern, multi-story building, I worried at first that wouldn't be able to find Hikari anywhere in this enormous crowd.

It once again made me realize just how many people still lived in this city, diminished as though their number may have been – each of them with their unique goals and concerns.

Each of them ignorant of what was to come.

I considered texting Hikari and letting her know where I was, but before I could reach for my phone, I noticed her waving at me from the crowd, in a somewhat rustic dress with straps and buckles, made from brown suede, with a striped t-shirt beneath and a sunhat above.

I, for lack of many other options, had turned up in my uniform – this was, after all, precisely the circumstance that we were here to remedy.

I rarely ever used up all of the budget that the Commander set aside for me, so I had brought with me enough leftover money to acquire a few basic sets of clothes.

I ended up with some pairs of tights, a dark tartan skirt, a little shift dress, a pair of white blouses (one long, one short) to wear with those, a simple brown checkered dress, and a sturdy overall that I might wear at the community garden. Simple, basic things that should have been enough… until we happened to walk past another store and happened to see this one white dress in the showcase. It wasn't really anything special an ornate, but there was an elegance to its simplicity, I think. Something about it appealed to me – still I may have continued walking after a moment, telling myself that I already had the clothes I needed, if Hikari had not noticed the pause in my step end at once encouraged me to purchase it. She said she wanted to get something from this store as well, although I'm not certain if she did this to encourage me, or if encouraging me gave her an excuse to do something she had wanted to do all along.

The dress she picked out wasn't quite like her usual style, though it was simple in its cut as well, a basic one-piece with T-shirt sleeves, the red and black stripes it featured were a bit more bold and eye-catching than what she usually wore.

I wondered then if there was a reason for her unusual choice, but I figured that it must be something private – if she ever wanted to discuss it, she would.

Though the goal of buying clothes was then accomplished, we did not leave right away.

Hikari insisted that we might as well partake of the snacks known as ice cream in a waffle.

This wasn't my first time trying it, though it may have been the second or third.

I think Major Katsuragi or Mr. Kaji may have gotten me some at one point, together with the other pilots. Even so, I think my relative lack of familiarity showed – however, Hikari seemed to take some delight in watching me curiously explore how to negotiate it.

"Be careful not to eat too much at once, it'll freeze your head."

"Noted, thanks you for the advice."

I was honestly a bit uncertain when she smiled at this at first, but I soon realized that it was quite different from that other instance when the Second had snickered at my inexperience in mockery.

She was happy for me.

"You know, Rei-san… It really makes me glad to see how you've finally gotten more comfortable around me."

Have I? Did I not used to be?

I would have said that I used to be indifferent more than anything. It's hard in hindsight to compare what the difference was, people find it hard to picture mindsets that they later discarded because the very connections of their mind change just as the opinion that they are the physical substrate of. Past ideas may only be gleaned from retained trails of thought, imperfectly reconstructed by the process of memory, nothing more than a series of links and recognition. I could not say how the way I used to be used to differ from now because I could not go back and experience it again with my body and all my attention. What I didn't pay attention to then was forever lost. Though it was quite possible that she was not entirely wrong, or at least, that there was something there that was making her think so.

I may have been braced and clamped-up, without really realizing – like when I did that activation experiment with Unit Zero. I told Ikari-kun that I wasn't scared, but then, when it was over, I found myself exhaling a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I wouldn't have thought that it was even possible for me to feel remotely at ease in the presence of another person. I just hadn't known anything else.

I thought the closest thing to freedom to breathe easy could only ever exist when I was alone.

In that sense, this is probably another thing for which I owe Hikari my gratitude…

Belatedly, it occurred to me then that I should probably let her know this before Third Impact came, if I wanted her to know it, which I think I did.

"I… I apologize if this is a bit sudden, but I wish to let you know that I have really appreciated this entire friendship thing."

I think she was surprised to hear that, or at least to hear it said like this, but not in a bad way.

She was sincerely smiling.

"Same here! I'm glad that I was able to get to know you better. At first I was just worried that you were lonely, since it's my responsibility to look after everyone in our class, but I think that you're a really interesting person – I can tell you have a good heart, just like Ikari-kun said."

He does say that?

"-I don't know how to put it… you have something about you that's actually very compassionate, but in an unintrusive way… but of course you're also much more than that. I hope that you'll continue living in our town even after all the Angels are defeated and just keep being yourself forever."

I didn't know what to say.

I never expected that I would ever heard anything like this said about me – at least not in reality.

I felt a wave of warmth washing over me, so bright it was almost immobilizing, welling up like it was almost too hot to bear, and I realized, not without some touch of honor, that I felt actually seen. Like the presence of my mind and soul had finally been noticed.

I also noticed the inevitable impulse following right after, to tell myself it must be an illusion, that it cannot be anything else, but I could recognize the reflexive, stagnant quality of that thought, the way it could have been a kneejerk response to just about anything, regardless of its actual content in truth.

Of course you could never be 'really really' sure, but there is a lot of a difference between a chance of one percent and ninety-nine.

My doubt seemed a trained, stagnant, obsolete shell of a thing, becoming transparent in the light of consciousness. It didn't stand up to occam's razor.

Though I had considered every thinkable option before that, I could no escape the conclusion of the simplest, most likely explanation:

That she could well and truly see me, and that she wasn't repulsed by what she saw.

And reflected in her eyes, I could also begin to see myself.

The garbled, monstrous reflection I had feared so much melted into something softer and smaller.

It was of course still possible that this image was only that of 'Ayanami Rei' – one convincing clockwork automaton, android of the flesh, the anglerfish lure of Lillith.

But at least, I was getting a more solid sensation of who 'Ayanami Rei' truly is, what 'Ayanami Rei' may be capable of… and how she may be a great deal less limited than I had feared her to be.

Perhaps Ayanami Rei merely happened to be lacking in experience.

…

The one mirror that I had in my washroom wasn't especially tall and was hung so as to mostly reflect the height of my face, so I needed to haul my chair into the bath to get a proper look at how my new overall looked on my body, when I'd put it on for the face time, getting ready to leave for my next trip to the community garden.

I had worn it before in the shop, of course, when I was trying it on, but seeing it in the familiar light and setting of my apartment made it more… real, somehow, like I had dragged it from some heady, hazy dream all the way down into the dim, cool light of my reality.

It had never felt real before that. Perhaps it still didn't. The time I'd spent with Hikari and the old ladies seemed like a dream itself, like something stashed away in its own little compartment where I could pretend that the usual rules of reality were temporarily suspended.

I could go there and act as if there was a future, and then I would go back to NERV and continue to work towards Third Impact, never letting the two spheres intersect.

It had seemed like the only way that I could have any kind of freedom… the freedom of a different context, of a narrow, constrained setting where it was possible to forget the inevitable for a while, the crushing weight of everything that I knew to be true.

It protected me, in a sense.

It let me convince myself that I had only put on the semblance of a person, that the others were only connected to this limited part of me that it was possible for them to be connected to, a role to be played, a parochial context to be filed away.

Yet now she was here, that person in the mirror, dressed in those clothes.

Existing in here, despite the cold and the light and the water, and the stack of tablets on the fridge, existing as surely as them, at the same time as them, contradictions forcing themselves painfully into my consciousness.

Who is that person, in the mirror there?

Perhaps 'a person who likes to garden', I suppose.

Among other things.

There she was for real: The Ayanami Rei that wasn't a pilot.

The Rei Ayanami that takes part in the world, that can be touched by it.

She hadn't turned out anything like my dream, but unlike it, she was now part of reality.

Am I deluding myself, I wonder? Is this just another fiction that I take to be myself?

Or did I finally manage to bring that what is inside me to the out into the world, to connect to it at last?

However that might be, I have to leave now if I want to catch my tram.

...

The burning sensation in my face was unmistakable.

At this point, I could say with certainty that I'd felt it before.

It wasn't completely alien to me; I could name it.

This must be what they call blushing.

This must be what they call embarrassment…

For so long, I had thought that I had no wishes.

I had thought this long enough that I'd come to fear that there was nothing inside of me.

But there was, clearly, in this moment. At least some of the time.

I cannot deny that there had been moments where I had felt empty, but it was not all the time.

It was only that I had not known anything else.

It was only that I had not wanted to know, that I had not wanted to look – out of fear that I wouldn't find anything, but that wasn't how it started.

It used to be that I hadn't wanted to look. That I hadn't cared to look because it could only ever be painful and make the existence that I was damned to impossible to endure.

Because if I looked, I might have started wanting.

For so long, there had been no point in wanting.

I still wasn't sure that there was.

What I wanted was something that I wouldn't get, or that could be ripped from me.

It was easier to separate myself from wanting and the stirrings within that may have caused it, to detach, to disinvest, to retreat from all the world behind a shield of nihilism, distance and resignation.

I became a thing that doesn't dream, a faithful performer, an empty vessel…

Until I was touched.

Until I sought out the touch – the touch of others, and also, to touch the things within myself.

For despite the fear, I had wanted to know.

Even when I thought I could never touch anything, I had still wanted to know.

My curiosity was the one thing I could never snuff out, so that I was drawn to understand the world at least from a distance, even if it was only through books.

So perhaps the endeavor was futile to begin with…

When the regulars at the community garden saw me arrive in something other than my uniform, their immediately gathered 'round and ended up having many things to say.

I would have thought that shifting my actions to being more like what was required would have lead me to draw less attention, but I had forgotten to consider that it would first and foremost be an unexpected change – having the entire group gathering around me all at once was rather overwhelming at first.

With some trouble, I managed to explain that I bought the clothes, and that I did so with Hikari, who then came to my rescue, or what she likely intended as such at least – she got out her phone and showed some pictures we had taken while we were out shopping.

The one of me trying on the white dress, in particular, garnered its share of enthusiastic responses:

"It looks great on you!"

"You look so cute!"

"It really compliments your figure!"

"I hope my future daughter in law is going to be as sweet as you!"

I can't say that it's entirely comfortable.

My cheeks feel like they are on fire, but even so, they are happy for me.

They seem to care about me.

Once, the faintest affectation of care on the Commander's part seemed to be like an invaluable treasure because it seemed so misplaced and unlikely when directed at something like me.

But here they were fussing over me like it was entirely natural, as if it were a perfectly expected reaction to seeing me.

And in response, I feel like I am touched.

I feel my existence, powerfully, coming over me, ringing out in all my nerves.

It feels like almost too much, and yet it's not a bad thing.

Little by little, the confounding darkness inside of me is beginning to lift.

The once dark and empty spaces reveal themselves as I find myself suddenly, inexplicably floating in daylight and warmth.

Another piece of it showed itself when one of the older ladies leaned over the shoulder, looking still at the picture of me in my new white dress, addressing me in a playful, but not alltogether joking tone: "You know, if you ever have any trouble finding a boyfriend, I have a nephew who's around your age, and I wouldn't mind introducing you – he's a good kid, but he's a bit shy, so I think he just needs someone to give him a little nudge. If you want me to set up a little date for you, this dress would be just the right thing to wear."

...that's all it takes?

That's how you do it? This was all that was needed all along?

I had thought other people would never truly see me as one of their own… that I was just too different, too alien for them. That whatever friendliness I received must be based on obligations or misunderstandings… Yet this was the point where I could not explain it away anymore – even being as I was, being the same 'me' that I'd always been, these people had without a doubt welcomed me as a full-fledged part of their community… like I could have a place here, even being as I was.

They were seeing me as one of their own so much that this lady would even consider making me part of her family, if her nephew should be so inclined.

I had read that many people who have trouble finding partners overlook the value that different kinds of social connections might have for putting them in touch with potential suitors – no, even if I had zero interest in the lady's nephew, they were already treating me much the same as any other youth from their community.

It was possible. I could do it.

I could slip into becoming a part of them just like that, though I'd never even considered it…

But when I imagined myself in my new white dress next to a faceless but smiling placeholder imagination for that lady's nephew, in a cinema or an ice cream parlor or some other popular meeting spot, it didn't seem quite right.

Something was wrong about it.

I didn't dislike the picture, but this nameless boy was not whom I wanted to be there.

"Thank you, Madam. I am very grateful for your offer.

However, I must decline.

I already have someone… whom I want to wear this dress for."

(Among all the commotion, I didn't notice Hikari going strangely quiet.

I was too taken with the ladies congratulating me and dispensing much of what I take to be relationship advice grown from their years of experience, warning me to avoid boys who treat me badly or to avoid various beginners' mistakes that I don't think I really understood.

The significance would not become clear to me until much later.)

…

I had not actually touched the white dress as of yet.

It still sat there flung across the backseat of my one chair, waiting for its day to come.

But I would find an occasion to wear it, eventually.

Just like the star-shaped hair clip that Ikari-kun gave me.

Decorative accessories are not allowed at school, so, I had not yet found an occasion to wear it.

At times, I had taken it out of its little wrapper in the dim light of my room, and ran my fingers along its smooth, midnight blue surface.

But I would find an occasion to wear it, at least once, before Third Impact –

And I know that I wanted Ikari-kun to see it.

I think I was more sure of that than ever, now that I had met a few other people.

Because I could have gotten such a clip from someone else. I could have asked someone else to choose the color. I would have been perfectly capable of choosing it myself.

But I wanted to have something that was chosen by him.

I wanted to see what color he thought would fit me.

Though I could find someone else – like the gardener lady's son, maybe – I wanted it to be him.

I knew this now, more than ever.

Actually, I don't think my heart ever had any doubt at all, but my mind had had no concept of it.

No idea what it could even be like to be around people whom you felt compelled to thank.

The only semblance of kindness I was used to was the sort that resulted from obligation, shared circumstance, or some benefit that the other party seeks to gain.

So when Ikari-kun showed me kindness, though I recognized it as something I had never known, there was still a part of me that doubted, not the sincerity of his intentions, maybe, but both out weakness and limitation.

What if we were just confused?

What if we were just desperate and alone, clinging indiscriminately to glimmers of light?

What if we had just mistaken Yui Ikari's shadow for something that it wasn't?

What if we didn't know what we were talking about, because we had nothing to compare it to?

I think I know now, at least more so than I used to.

And I'm trying, every day, to piece together what I still do not have words for.

One day, fate willing, when I'm ready, I think that I'm going to tell him.

About the torment that aches inside my heart.

I'm hoping that, when that happens… if it does... he will be able to be even more gentle to me than he already has been.

...

I honestly… didn't notice at all, that anything had changed since that last conversation about the dress.

Yes, I don't recall Hikari talking to me much at school or even when we were both at the gardens, but I just figured she was busy, having her own fields to till and I had even told her that she need not be seen with me if that would put her in an awkward position with the Second.

I only realized the significance later, as I was looking back.

When she summoned me for classroom duty but didn't say anything further, I didn't think anything on it. I was busy wiping off the blackboards, watering the plans and fetching a new garbage ban so we might empty out the bin.

I thought in passing that she had a somewhat unhappy or shameful expression on her face, but I wasn't sure if I was even correct about that or any guess to what the reason could be.

At first I didn't think that it might have anything to do with me – after all, who knows what kinds of difficulties she might have to deal with in her own time?

It was only as we were walking to the furnace behind the schoolyard to dispose of the burnable garbage that I began to suspect that something might be off.

She was normally more enthusiastic about getting the work over with, and I would at least have expected her to talk now, when there was no one around and a prolonged silence reigned.

It wouldn't have bothered me normally, but I was under the impression that this was considered unusual.

I couldn't really be sure.

I cannot say that I ever developed much of a natural, intuitive feeling for this.

But at this point, she had shown me a lot of kindness when she did not have to, so, if something was bothering her, I at least wanted to let her know that it mattered to me – that she mattered and wasn't floating unseen within the void.

This seemed to be the closest to an ideal moment, since there was no one else around.

"Hikari-san…"

It still felt rather unfamiliar to use her given name, though there should have been no reason, seeing as she had given her explicit permission. Perhaps I had been avoiding it as yet another thing that would anchor me more closely to a world that I couldn't hold onto.

"...is anything the matter? Correct me if I'm wrong, but, I am getting the impression that you are somewhat upset today."

Her reaction was stronger than I expected. Her cheeks colored at once and, for a moment, I thought that she would hide her face in her hands, but instead, they ended up clawing themselves into her skirt.

In the background, the fire of the incinerator could be heard crackling.

"...You… you must have been wondering why I've been avoiding you…"

That was absolute news to me, and as such came to me as a shock.

Whenever I thought that I was getting close to understanding how all this worked, there would turn out to be another thing that I didn't notice, or had failed to consider.

Whenever that happened, my doubts in the necessity of the Commander's plans grew fainter.

But I could not afford to wait for the day of instrumentality right now.

"I'm sorry… did… did I do something wrong?"

Hikari was frantic to correct me: "No, not at all! You didn't do anything! If anything, I'm the one who should apologize! I really should be better than this, after all this time I've spent hoping to be your friend, wanting you to get along with others in our class… I should really be happy for you and Suzuhara-kun."

Now I was utterly confused.

"...Suzuhara-kun? I- don't understand? How is he related to anything?"

But whatever Hikari was talking about, she seemed rather convinced of it:

"It's okay! You don't need to lie to spare my feelings. I already know, and it's fine.

I could figure when he didn't want me to come along to bring you your printouts, and I've seen you eating with him & his group during recess. I really should have known when you asked me for advice the other day, but when you said this thing about your new dress recently, that's when I could no longer deny it…

When I talked to Asuka-san about it, she said it was impossible and that you'd never be interested in another person like that, but now that I know you better, I believe she was being unfair to you. You have a good heart and many other good qualities, so why wouldn't Suzuhara like you?

I know I should know better than to be a sore loser just because I've missed my chance, and I'm sorry for that – I really wish you both all the best-"

Wait? 'Us both'?

What is she talking about?

I was completely and utterly confused.

Had I done something wrong?

Part of me was tempted to throw up my hands and just never speak to her again, to see this as yet more undeniable proof that I would never get this right, that it was intrinsically, constitutionally beyond me-

But that would surely be a counterproductive thing to do and even harder to explain.

Whatever this confusion was, it was best swiftly rectified.

It was not long ago that I had thought it completely certain that I would pass from this world without ever experiencing anything like my friendship with Hikari.

The least I could do was to make an honest attempt at salvaging this to the best of ability, limited as thought it may be.

"Forgive me, I truly do not understand. I am not skilled at... expressing myself in such situations, or understanding how they work. I am not trying to 'spare you' or anything like that, I meant only precisely what I said. I genuinely do not know what you are referring to. I don't understand why you are suddenly speaking about Suzuhara-kun. I don't understand how any of this relates to him.

Let us begin with something simple. ...This is probably wrong, so, correct me if that is the case, but, from what you are saying, one could conclude that you are under the impression that he and I are involved in a romantic relationship. Is that correct?"

"Wait- are you saying that you aren't together?"

I had expected that it may become complicated to convince her of this, seeing as it was an often volatile topic that, in order to be navigated, would require a level of nuance and diplomacy which I did not possess.

But somehow, by some miraculous oversight in the usual cruelty of the cosmos, that did not happen. Or perhaps it was owed to Hikari's own, somewhat greater acuity in those matters, that she could deduce, just from the way I was phrasing things, that I genuinely had not intended any hidden meaning.

This, by itself, however, seemed to set off an entire chain reaction of further responses for her that was difficult to follow – I once again found myself at a loss.

"I'm so, so sorry… Ohmygosh this is so embarrassing…"

It occurred to me that perhaps further attempts to clarify would help resolve any residual ambiguities in the situation:

"There is no need to apologize. I hold no resentment of you. I just wish for all this to be clarified and resolved – in case it helps, Suzuhara-kun and I are just acquaintances, I'm not even certain if I can say 'friends'. If we've been spending time together, then that is mostly because he is Ikari-kun's friend, and he invited us all. I've probably spent less time with him than I do with you. He is not the person I was talking about the other day. You need not be concerned that any kind of inappropriate behavior was taking place… unless you disapprove of associating with him in general?"

"No, no, it's not like I hate him- not at all –"

I narrowed my eyes, not yet convinced that I was getting any closer to unraveling this mystery. I ran through other likely possibilities in my mind that I had heard or read being discussed in similar scenarios.

"So, are you perhaps romantically interested in him?"

At once, Hikari turned bright red and hid her face in her palms, struggling to summon any words or even a semblance of her usual authoritative demeanor.

Perhaps I should have worded that more tactfully.

"I was just trying to think of options, please do correct me if I'm wrong-"

"You're not wrong…"

She said this very, very quietly, her face still mostly hidden behind her fingers.

She soon relaxed, however, now that the secret was out, let her hands sink back down, and sighed deeply.

"I really should take my own advice." she mused, "...no wonder everyone thinks I'm bossy, stuffy and uptight. I bet Suzuhara-kun and the others don't even see me as a girl, just as some annoying shrew. I told you to listen to your heart, but I can't even do it myself…"

I wasn't sure what to say.

Certainly, her self-deprecating remarks were not congruent with how I experienced her, so one might expect that consolation was in order, but I didn't know how to accomplish this.

What was plain to see here was that even she has some connection that she longs for or desires that she cannot realize.

I may have done her an injustice in supposing that she seemed like she wouldn't have a need for instrumentality. I may have misunderstood the commander, just for lack of his greater experience. I should not have assumed that he would not have known something that I am only now beginning to know.

But however that may be, I could surely not stand here and just wait for instrumentality to arrive…

"I cannot claim to know what Suzuhara-kun thinks. But, so far as I'm aware, I can tell you that he doesn't have a girlfriend and that he often laments this. I cannot see why he would not welcome the offer. Besides, I could see how the two of you might be compatible. You are both somewhat family-oriented, are you not? So far as I'm aware, you are both rather involved with your younger siblings-"

"You're the first one who's ever said that."

At first I feared that I had just said something wrong again – but no, she was smiling, and speaking in a gentle, tender voice: "Everyone else is always so surprised when they hear that, like the thought of the two us being together instead of always squabbling is just silly…"

"...I suppose they must have their reasons, but so far as I'm aware, I do not see what would be so ridiculous about it, and neither do I think that you lack any qualities that would disqualify you as a partner."

I wanted her to hear that, at least, even if she would never get the chance to have family like she wanted, neither with Suzuhara not any other person. I hoped that she would at least take delight in the idea, if that's the closest thing that's possible to her dream ever coming to pass.

"….Thanks, Rei-san…"

So I was even capable of becoming someone who can be thanked themselves, not just someone who can have reason to thank others.

We stood there in the fading gold of sunset. We heard the click of the incinerator as it switched itself off. It would be time to go back soon… in more ways than one.

It was then that I chose to do something that was, most likely, a somewhat liberal interpretation of my orders. I wasn't really going against the spirit of then, for my actions wouldn't really change anything in the grand scheme of things. What could Hikari do? She was just a schoolgirl.

If it was going to make a difference at all, then that would be only for her, and maybe a few, small handful of people in her immediate vicinity.

It wouldn't really matter for the plan or the scenario or the destiny of mankind, but in that instant, I was hoping that it might matter for her:

"Hikari-san. There is one thing you should know."

"Huh…?"

"You must understand that this is classified information. Even Ikari-kun and the Second Child haven't been made aware of this-"

And as I said this, I could see the fear taking possession of Hikari's face all at once, her hands clutching at herself, suddenly seeming very small.

I might be taking away some of her bliss and her ignorance, pronouncing fate on her like the angel of death, or as an oracle who words can only serve to bring about the grim fate they declare.

However…

"This city won't be standing for much longer. It is true that there hasn't been an angel attack for a good while, but at NERV, they have reason to expect another five before the end of the year… and they believe that each one will be more destructive than the last. Right now, it might seem like these peaceful days will last forever, but in truth, most of them are already behind us.

The others and I will be what we can to avert harm from the shelters down in the geofront, but the truth is that there is no guarantee that any of us will live to see January of 2016 – and even if you and Suzuhara-kun both survive the angels, there's no telling whether you might be evacuated to different cities.

Of course the choice is yours, whether you wish to act on your desires under these circumstances or not. Knowing this, I can understand if you think that it's better not to begin anything, so that nothing has to end. Nevertheless, if you do wish to pursue him…

It may be best if you do it quickly."

Hikari swallowed hard, her warm brown eyes blown wide open from the revelation.

The tint of blood was clearly gone from the skin beneath her freckles.

But even so, the next word out her lips was nothing other than "Thank you."

…

In hindsight, these recent weeks had felt they felt like they had lasted so much longer than they truly did. They were so full of new experiences…

I had been so used to the days passing me by without touching me.

Between each of the elapsed moments, I kept growing my tiny collection of memories that were only mine, mine, mine – I found myself almost lusting for them, as an old miser might cling to his hoard….

And for the first time, I almost risked hearing the siren song of that temptation that I had never allowed myself, not even in thought, the very thought that had once spelled the end for one Doctor Faustus:

'If I should ever say to the moment, stay for you are so beautiful...'

The forbidden, impossible wish that things didn't have to end, that things could continue just as they were, that I too could continue here along with everyone else for ever and ever and ever, through spades of sun-drenched, indeterminate numbers of days such as they could certainly only exist in abstractions – to want what was never for me and never meant to be mine and which I'd long ago forsaken, no, that which I'd decided from the beginning never to want or need.

Now it is important that you do not misunderstand:

I did not avoid this wish because I thought that I was not allowed.

In fact, whether or not it was allowed or not could not be any more irrelevant.

I could not allow this wish because it was impossible – to let in inside was to beckon my doom to the edge of my deathbed.

I could never want things. I could never rejoice in things. I could never bind myself to anything, or anyone.

I could never care about anything or get invested in its growth or development,

all because I knew that it would inevitably be cut down.

That it would be wrested away from me, from my frail, helplessly, hopelessly grasping hands-

it would have all hurt so much less if I could have forced myself not to struggle.

If I should wish to have what no one could ever keep, I should be lost forever beyond any manner of help.

I used to fear becoming entangled with people because I thought I could never do it right.

What I really should have feared is what may happen if I did, in fact, become entangled with them.

---

So glad this one's finally done. For some reason I was stuck on some bits of this one for a long time, but I felt like needed this & that type scene to be in there at this point in the progression for Structure and Themes and whatnot – I was worried it would just turn into some tedious flavorless pointlessly cutesy sludge, which, if anything, is the evil I seek to defeat.

I think what finally made the chapter 'click' is the idea that the emotional core of this is similar to the experience of someone who came from a background of neglect, bullying, over-control or abuse realizing that what they're used to isn't necessarily how things are always going to go after moving further out into the world of their own accord.

But believe me, the document of bulletpoints & dialogue snippets that I got the rest planned out in got sooo much thicker. I swear. Honestly. [insert awkward laugh] – hoping to deliver more consistent updates from now on.