Categories > Anime/Manga > Neon Genesis Evangelion

Rei's Wonderful, Terrific, Fantabulous Romance

by mimarin 4 reviews

Just as the title reads. A morning in the life of the First Child, who muses upon romance, dreams, and the meaning of it all.

Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Humor - Characters: Asuka Langley Soryu, Rei Ayanami, Shinji Ikari - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2006-05-14 - Updated: 2006-05-14 - 623 words - Complete

DISCLAIMER: Characters are the property of Hideaki Anno and GAINAX, therefore they are not mine. Feedback is appreciated. Suing me is not.






"Are you listening?"


"Blink twice for 'yes'."

blink blink

"... Um, okay. Anyways, I-"




"I love you."


"And I was wondering if- if you felt the same way too."



"..." blink blink



In a small Tokyo-3 apartment, a plain alarm clock rang in what could be called an alarm clock-monotone, if possible. A girl's pale hand deftly silenced it and she slowly rose. A chilly breeze from an open window ruffled her short hair lightly.

"What an odd dream," the girl thought as she went through the stiff motions of her daily routine. If her memory was to be believed, she had been conversing with Shinji Ikari, and he had... professed his love.

Dreams were nothing but distractions to Rei, albeit interesting ones. Shinji Ikari was often a subject of her nocturnal reveries, except for that one time where she had imagined the Second Child being crushed by a wayward school bus. That had been rather troubling, but easily resolved by a heavy dose of Prozac prescribed by the doctor.

As she turned on the shower, Rei debated whether or not to tell Dr. Akagi of this recent occurrence. Surely it would only result in more medication and extra hassle for both. Another option was to tell the Major. After a moment of consideration, the First Child shot down the idea. Miss Katsuragi would most likely be too busy 1.) attending to her job, 2.) attending to her beer, or 3.) attending to Mr. Ryouji. Last week Rei had walked in on the Major doing the latter, which was not an experience she would choose to repeat.

Also, she secretly thought that the dreams were not unpleasant. Especially ones like this.

All in all, she decided as she washed her hair, they were harmless. As long as she didn't act on her nearly non-existent impulses herself, all her selves would be fine. Ikari was already in a romantic relationship with Sohryu, or at least in a physical one. Even someone as... inexperienced with social interaction as Rei could see the evidence of their mutual involvement. Unless if all those red marks on Ikari's neck were self-inflicted. Nonetheless, Shinji seemed happy, or at least as happy as Shinji could be. It would be foolish to disrupt the current arrangement between the three pilots.

The few benefits of Ayanami's apartment didn't include heating. She shivered as she stepped out of the shower and reminded herself to stock up on school uniforms. Drying herself off, she surveyed the few contents of the dimly lit bedroom, which mainly consisted of bandages scattered across the floor and nearby dresser.

All of a sudden, the sound of her doorbell pierced through her apartment. In no hurry, Rei methodically walked four steps out of her room, ten steps down the hall, and forty steps down the flight of stairs leading to her humble hovel, taking approximately 0.8 minutes per step, not counting bathroom breaks.

By the time she reached her front door, there was no one there. Slightly puzzled, she wondered if she could've possibly imagined the doorbell ringing. As she mused over the probability of having mild-schitzophrenia, she spotted a bright yellow envelope on top of the piles of old mail at her feet. She carefully bent down, picked it up, and opened it.

The card was completely blank on the front except for a tiny blue flower in the center. On the inside were a few words in slightly crooked handwriting. The fourth and fifth words were scribbled over in darker ink. The message read:

Happy Mother's Day, Ayana-- Mom-- Rei
Love, Shinji

Rei almost smiled.
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