“Yes, Mrs Ikari. I appreciate you heading down on such short notice. We’ll be here waiting for you.”
A click of the phone signalled that the call was over as it was returned to its home on the wall. On the opposite end of the room sat a row of chairs, one of which currently housed Shinji Ikari. Her head was slumped down and her hands sat limp in her lap, with only the slow motions of her chest signalling she was alive. Misato had found her mid-breakdown in the corner of the front car park and successfully ushered her inside administration, however, she couldn’t figure out how to get her to speak.
Misato sat herself on the chair next to Shinji. “Y’know, I can’t help you out much unless you talk to me.”
Shinji remained unresponsive.
“Was Asuka terrorising you again?” she inquired, lowering her head to meet with Shinji’s.
A weak shake of the head answered no.
“Okay, well… give me names. Tell me who upset you and I’ll make sure they’re in the deepest trouble of their school lives.”
After a short wait, Shinji turned her head to face Misato. “Ms Katsuragi, am I a girl to you?”
Misato looked shocked that this was even a question. “Of course you are!”
“Do you really think that Ms Katsuragi? Or are you just saying it to be nice?”
“That’s all I see in front of me, so it must be true,” she responded, face filled with concern. “And please, you can call me Misato – I’ve taught you for years! It’s not like the other kids in class don’t already.”
“Well, Misato… does it disappoint you that I am one?”
Misato's jaw nearly fell agape. "Why would it disappoint me? Why would it disappoint anyone?!"
Shinji let her head limp downwards again. She didn't want to answer the question.
“You have to answer at least one of my questions at some point, Shinji.”
She continued not to speak, but Misato could hear her exhale a heavy sigh as she picked her head back up to lean against the chair. Misato grasped her hands around one of Shinji’s, allowing her arms to hold up the limping weight. She looked Shinji as directly in the eyes as she could from the side.
“Look. There are going to be people who don’t accept who you are. There are people out there who will make sure it’s loud and known that they don’t agree with your existence, and they’re going to try and make you feel as unsafe and unwelcome as they possibly can. But please don’t give up on yourself to try and appease them! You’ll only make yourself feel worse, and it won’t make them stop.”
Shinji shifted her head to face Misato once again. Her eyes were watering, but she refused to let them cry. This was not the time and place.
“You’re one of my star pupils, Ikari. I’d hate to see you burn out now when you’ve finally just found yourself.”
Soon after Misato finished her speech, the light patter of shoes moving against the carpeted floor filled the room. Rei walked into the room, unannounced, as she travelled towards the chairs.
“Are you okay, Ayanami?” Misato asked as she broke her attention away from Shinji, letting go of her hand.
Rei did not bother answering. Instead, she dropped her bag by Shinji, before unzipping it and removing a blue lunch box; Shinji looked confused as Rei handed it to her.
“You forgot your lunch box,” stated Rei.
“Oh…” Shinji sheepishly replied as she grabbed the lunch box from Rei’s hands. “Thank you Rei.”
No other words were exchanged as Rei plopped herself down on the seats, wedging Shinji between herself and Misato.
“What are you doing?” questioned Shinji, her face of confusion returning. “You don’t need to stick around for me.”
“I am protecting you,” Rei responded.
“I appreciate it,” Shinji said with an awkward smile, “but break ends soon, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on class.”
Rei remained unmoved from her seat. “We can return to class together.”
“Actually, Shinji’s headed home,” interjected Misato. “Her mother’s coming to pick her up now.”
“I can come home with her,” countered Rei. “We live together.”
Misato looked at Shinji, her face bearing an expression asking if that was true. A quick nod from Shinji confirmed it. Although Misato would typically argue that Rei should return to class and that Shinji was her own person, she felt like making an exception since it was only the first week of term and the circumstances were unusual at best. It’s not like she could parse either of them anyways.
The end of lunch bell soon rang through the walls, prompting Misato to rise from her chair. Rei remained in place, staring forward; Shinji appeared less anxious than when she had arrived. Misato turned around with a request for her:
“Please stay safe, and take care of yourself.”
The patter of shoes against the carpet returned to fill the room once again as Misato walked out of the room, leaving the other two alone to wait for Yui’s arrival. They could hear the chatter of students rushing back to class outside, eventually returning the room to silence. Shinji didn’t say it, but she was glad that Rei was here, making sure she didn’t wait alone.
It wasn’t long before Yui rushed into the room, running up to Shinji and embracing her tightly. She quickly reciprocated, appreciating the warmth of her mother’s hug.
“Rei?” Yui blurted in surprise as she noticed the pale girl sat next to her daughter. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here?”
“She’s coming home as well,” answered Shinji. “Ms Katsuragi already knows.”
“Oh!” Yui was a bit confused, but chose not to press further. “In that case, let’s get in the car already… we can talk more then.”
Thankfully, the walk to the car was a lot briefer than the time spent sitting waiting for it to arrive. Yui’s boxy van stuck out amongst the rounder, sleeker vehicles owned by the teachers there. Rei and Shinji slipped in the backseat together as Yui hopped into the driver’s seat. The car cackled to life without a hitch, and it was on the road before the backseat duo could strap their seatbelts in.
“Now I’m glad you’re safe,” began Yui as she kept her glance directed to the road, “but you’re just lucky that they didn’t need me at work today. I can’t give them the family emergency excuse each time, so please don’t make this a regular thing, okay?”
Shinji looked down at her feet, embarrassed that her predicament had brought her mother off work.
“Shin,” Yui continued, “I know it’s baby steps and I’m happy you’re finally getting out of the house, but it’s your second day and you’ve already been sent home early panicking! You have to find better ways to deal with it…”
“I’m sorry,” muttered Shinji.
“There’s no need to grovel, this can be a learning experience for you. And anyways, I’m sure you and Dr Akagi can work out some solutions together! I booked you in for an in-person session this Sunday – who knew that she did weekends?”
Shinji’s head shot up upon hearing that last line. Although Dr Akagi was her therapist, the two hadn’t met in person on the account of Shinji being housebound in the few months they’d had sessions together.
“W-wait!” stuttered Shinji, surprised by the revelation. “I’m not ready to go out in public… like this…”
“Aren’t you shopping with Rei this Saturday?”
“It will be a good opportunity for you to practice going out,” chimed Rei.
Shinji nervously laughed. She’d forgotten about that shopping trip already, putting it to the back of her mind; she didn’t want to let Rei down and call it off, but every inch of her mind was crying out at her to find a way out of it.
Catching on that that line of conversation was over, Yui decided to switch gears.
“How are you finding school here Rei?”
“Adequate.”
“Is there anything you’ve found interesting there?”
“No.”
“Is there anything different to your old school?”
“Not really.”
Yui knew better than to bother asking further – when Rei was giving short answers like that, she was probably uninterested. Yui could spot the Ikari household up the road, a welcome sight meaning that she didn’t have to clear the dead air any longer. A short period later, and the van’s passengers had already made their way inside the house.
Shinji quickly dumped her stuff before heading to her room, shutting the door, and collapsing onto her bed. Here, she could finally cry. A muffled sob bounced across the walls of the room as she buried her face in her pillow, letting her emotions out as quietly as she could. For her, they were problems to keep to herself, for they were too pathetic to let anyone else deal with. Besides the warmth of her tears staining the pillowcase against her face, her entire body felt cold, and she felt alone.
She could take Toji not accepting her – it hurt, but she knew he could be stubborn and set in his ways. But his sister? The young Sakura Suzuhara, who somehow seemed completely star-stuck whenever she saw Shinji, sparkles in her eyes; who made Shinji feel like she was worth something whenever she’d excitedly shout her name when she came over to hang out with her brother… Toji might have been talking out his ass, but the idea of her having her heart broken completely destroyed Shinji.
And Kensuke. Sure, he seemed to accept her, but the way he had questioned her made her feel like an alien creature, mentally being prodded and poked at as he jotted down notes like a scientist observing an experiment. The way he had made her feel like an inhumane other made her feel worse than the rant Toji had directed at her.
As far as she was concerned, the best people she had in her life were gone. Toji, Kensuke… Asuka. Had she messed up picking this path? Were the pangs of euphoric joy worth a lifetime of being perceived as a lesser being?
Before she knew it, her sobs had transformed into wails of longing and regret, barely kept at bay by the pillow on her face. She threw her blankets on her head to try and hide what she could, but she knew that the chokes of air she needed to take in were travelling through the house. She was a mess, face flushed with a disgusting mix of tears and mucus. She didn’t care.
The intensity of it all quickly tired her out. Her throat was hoarse, her face red and puffy, her eyes glistening with tears yet simultaneously dry. Her cries had reduced to quiet sniffles, her body otherwise still and lifeless. She wanted nothing more in the world at that moment than to be nothing.
A creak at the door notified her that someone had entered the room, followed by it closing again. She tried not to acknowledge it, but she felt a bony hand poke into her side that then began to shake her. She raised her head, finding herself eye-to-eye with Rei holding a tissue box once the blankets fell.
“I brought you tissues,” Rei said, stating the obvious. “Please wipe your face.”
Shinji grabbed a few tissues out of the box without another word said. She stood up as she tried to wipe her face clean, but she could still feel a general slickness of tears that would take a while to dry away. She looked at Rei, and tried to crack the best smile she could – her face was too sore to emote, so the corners of her mouth barely lifted. Rei responded with a slight frown of worry, causing Shinji to look away in shame.
She began to profusely apologise. “I’m sorry Ayanami, I really didn’t need to make a scene, I–”
Her speech was interrupted as she felt Rei’s skinny arms wrap around her, pulling her in for a hug. Her dry eyes began to well once more, blurring her vision. She didn’t know how to react.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” she could hear Rei say to her.
Different tears began to fall from Shinji’s eyes. These ones were a lot quieter, her mouth quivering but not making noises; less upset than the ones from before. They trickled from her cheeks onto Rei’s vest, which seemed to cause Rei to hug her tighter.
“Friends hug to tell each other they will be okay,” Rei continued. “This hug is to tell you that. It is okay to cry. It is okay to be sad.”
Shinji returned the favour, wrapping her own arms around Rei and holding her tight. Rei was a lot colder than the average person, but with how pale and icy Shinji’s skin was at that time, she may as well have been the sun.
As the two stood there, Shinji wished that she could verbalise how much she appreciated Rei. In just two short days of knowing her, she had shown more care for Shinji than any of her other friends had. What did it matter that her old friends weren’t there for her when Rei was while still accepting her for who she is?
She knew that eventually that her tear ducts would dry and then it would be time to let go and for life to move on as it normally did. But until that moment came, she told herself that it was going to last forever.