Here goes nothing...my first post. I am not an ML member, but the page said
it was okay anyway.

Mother

Please C&C this, and tell me what other stories I should write. If any. ^_^

This is supposed to be confusing. Even more so than Kevin Shiue’s
"Neverending Sorrow."

Darkfic alert! (Though not so, it’s not another "The Bitter End" for
example) Spoiler alert! Newbie to writing anime-fanfic alert! (I write other
stuff usually)

	My eye. It hurts. 

The pain centers around it, a flaming spiral of raw searing hurt that rips
through me. I feel the ache in every limb of my body, mixing with the
incredibly STRANGE sensation of feeling broken concrete and shattered glass
as well as I slam to the ground.

I get up, slowly. It’s the only thing I can do now. I hear Misato’s voice in
my head, no it’s head. What is this thing? What is happening to me? I never
wanted to pilot this. I want to go away, to be away! Then I heard his cool
dispassionate tones, directing the staff of NERV.

"Tousan..." My father. I wonder who he is.

The fear’s still there. But I can’t run away. I can’t!

Why?

It steps forward. I see…

Then suddenly my vision clears. Am I screaming? I can recall my throat
opening…but all is so peaceful now.

	"Kaasan...." My breath catches in my throat as I look at her.

	"Ne, Shin-chan?" Her smile...it brings back memories. Ones I didn’t know I had.

	"Anata wa utsukushii...". For a moment I wonder who is saying it. Then,
thought dissolves, leaving behind a whirling mass of colours.

*****

	Shinji Ikari looked up at his mother. She was washing the dishes, something
she did everyday. She smiled down at him, a bright happy smile full of love.
It made him feel so good he smiled back in return.

	"Ne, Shin-chan? What shall we do today?"

	"I wanna play with you, Kaachan! Can we play piggyback today?"

	You were such a happy child. 

	I was?

	Yes. You were. Are you now?

	I…I don’t know. 

	The woods were such a fun place to be in! Especially with Kaasan. She made
everything seem nice. He bent forward, taking in the fresh smell of hair,
mixed with the shampoo she always used, giggling all the way. He felt his
mother tip over, letting him get down from her back. He pouted.

	"So soon? I wanna play some more."

	"Not now, Shinji. I have some work to do." Then suddenly she was in a big
white thing, like one the one doctors wore when he had to see them. He
didn’t like her in it. It looked weird, not like his mom. Like someone else.

	It’s a lab coat, a part of his mind informed him. She’s going to do
experiments. Experiments.

	He ignored the voice, ignored the feeling of knowing those strange words,
and the dread that seemed to come out of nowhere, the empty feeling of
nothingness. His mother was here, everything was okay. It was! Seized by a
sudden doubt, a need to be comforted, he tugged at the sleeve of her…coat.
That’s what it was, a coat.

	She turned around and smiled at him. Still the same eyes, the same smile.
"Shin-chan, play by yourself now! I’ll be done in a second." But what was
that in her hair? It looked funny too. And her hair was a bit of a different
color. He was scared. He hugged her tighter, not wanting to let go.

	"I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away."
	
	He was almost afraid to look up. "Kaasan?"

	She wasn’t there. "KAASAN!" 

	"I mustn’t run away, I mustn’t run away, I must’ve run away…it became a
litany whispered in his frenzied mind, the words pounding at his brain as
surely as the Angel’s blows into him…

	No! He didn’t know anything about that! He was playing with Kaasan, and
then she disappeared! Where was she? He was just a little boy, frightened,
scared…where was his mother? Where was she? Where? He let out a despairing
wail as he looked frantically around, already on the verge of tears.
"Kaasan…" She wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t! 

	"Shinji."

	He looked, a sharp spike of hope welling up in his heart, only to be dashed
away a second later. It wasn’t his mother. It was a man, a tall man wearing
gloves and glasses, reading a newspaper. A strangely familiar man.

	Wait, that was his father. Or was it? He’d never seen him read a newspaper
before. Where was his mother? Could he help?

	"You will pilot the EVA unit, Shinji."

	"But, Tousan…I…" Misato’s voice in his ear, talking to him gently. Like his
mother. So like his mother. But who was this person? Why was he here? He
didn’t know anything, didn’t want anything except his mother!

	"I mustn’t run away, I mustn’t run away, I must’ve run away…"

	"Kaasan?" She was there for a second, gently smiling with white light
around her.

	"I mustn’t run away, mustn’t run away, mustn’t run away…"

	She beckoned to him. He ran towards her, calling out her name in happiness.
She was here now. Everything was going to be okay. She would make the hurt
go, go far, far, far away.

	"Mustn’t run away, mustn’t run away…" His eye didn’t hurt anymore. The
Angel was on the ground. There was blood, blood all around him, all around
it, all around…

	Her. She was gone again. But then, she was never there.

	"KAASAN!"

	His mother was gone. He was alone. All alone here. And then the Angel was
on the ground and there was blood on his hands and it was all his fault and
he mustn’t run away and his father was there and he was horrible and stupid
and she wasn’t there and there was pain and he mustn’t run away, mustn’t run
away where was she why did he hurt who was he he mustn’t run away there was
blood his eye hurt.

	He was a young boy, alone on a road, crying out his fear to an unforgiving
world. And a bag and toy were next to him.

*****

	I was okay. The fight was over, and they’d all congratulated me, praised me
for my actions. I didn’t deserve it, I know. But I was so tired then.

*****

	The sea of black, rushing up to take him in it’s grasp, and the
overwhelming terror as it slowly, against everything he thought, became him.
The Angel had him now, was him.

	He was floating in a sea. A sea of his own tears and blood.

*****

	I look at her, so silent in the night, and find pity in my heart, for her
cry, and her tears, are so like mine. She wants, no, needs her mother. Like
me. So like me. We both hide it, but the hurt is there. 

	I want to reach out, not to hold her, but somehow, somehow, try to make the
pain go away. And then I realize that I actually want her to do the same for
me. 

	Her face…here in sleep, I see her true expression. Her true self.

	I want my mother back.

*****

	That day. With the sun in her hair, and her holding the rag in just that
way…I remember something. I didn’t say it, but I remembered. She looked so…

	"You look like a mother". I don’t remember speaking those words, but I must
have.

	And she did. She looked like mine.

*****

	"Shinji!"

	She was holding me in her arms, sobbing with relief, strands of purple hair
sticking to my still-wet plug suit. I held her back, glad for her comfort. I
could hear Asuka’s sarcastic tone, but I didn’t care. 

	I sometimes wonder what Misato-san means to me. She’s my guardian, but also
my surrogate mother in a way. I live with her, do chores, work with her,
talk to her. She cares for me,  and I suppose I care for her too.. It’s just
as well I wash my own bedsheets, though. 

	Was she like my mother in a way? She scolded, praised, cooked (after a
fashion), was concerned, did everything a mother should do. But did I view
her in that way? She seemed…young, sometimes, carefree. Was my mother like that?

	I didn’t know.

*****

	I was scared, the last time. Even after the Angel died, after I burst out
of it in blood. I hated losing control, losing myself to the EVA. I wondered
what I would do.

	But the next time was worse.

	I can’t remember any of it, except the searing pain in my arm, and the sick
fascination I felt when I realized it wasn’t attached to me, to it, anymore.
Then the rage came. I was there one moment, wasn’t there the next. I had no
control. 

	I wonder if that was how Touji felt. It doesn’t matter now. I almost killed
him anyway.

	Asuka’s not getting any better either.

	There was a strange feeling every time I…lost it, every time I "sai-kidou"
as Ritsuko says. I remember a bit of my mom. Just a little bit.

	I still want her. I know it’s silly, I know that I should take care of
myself, that she’s gone, but I still want her. It’s at once a pining, and a
burning desire, an emotion and urge. I wonder if Rei and Asuka feel the same
way sometimes.

	That’s why I’m here now, on a train to nowhere, just like that time a few
months back. I think about that, and about now, and I wish I could have
helped Misato-san. But I can’t, I’m useless. Useless.

	I run my thumb over the cold, smooth surface of the CD player, feeling it’s
familiar weight and length in my hands. I look at it and the single,
solitary silver disk inside, the only one I’ve ever owned, only one I’ve
every needed to own.

	The one I stole from my father’s desk that day so long ago. The one that
practically called me to take it. Till now, I wonder why my father never
noticed. Probably because we were moving. No other reason.

	The one I’ve heard so many times. Mechanically, my hands go through the
oh-so-familiar motions.

	Stop. Press reverse track twice, once will only make it repeat. Play.

	The voice.

	"…and I think this will be a good choice for me, but just in case something
goes wrong, I made this. And yes…"

	The few seconds of speech that are the world to me. 

	"…tell Shin-chan I love him."

	The hot tears spill down my face. Stop. Reverse…play. I weep for her, for
myself. 

	My mouth opens, and forms the  words that I’ve known for all my life. Words
that I wish I could say now, and have them come back to me.

	"Kaasan…aishiteru."

*****

	Author’s Note:

	Owarimashita. This clocks in at 6 pages with a Times New Roman size 10
fonts in Microsoft Word 7.0, my biggest completed work to date. And,
interestingly enough, my first anime fanfic.

	Well, this wasn’t all that bad, I thought it was rather good. And now to
indulge in my peculiar author’s note activity: to tell my reader what I set
out to achieve in this. (Yes, don’t look at me in that way, I do this on a
regular basis. Yes, it’s to improve my skills as a writer by seeing whether
the audience experiences what I set out to write. Okay, you can stop looking
now. Stop already! ^_^)

	Most of this fic is, obviously, Shinij’s thoughts when in "sai-kidou" (the
state the EVA is in when it shows it’s teeth and becomes really powerful).
Shinji has a interesting relationship with his mother: he pilots her soul,
has a guardian, misses her, and is strangely affected by someone who looks
like her. All this hampered by the fact that he doesn’t even know what she
looked like. I hope I managed to explore all that in the fic.

	But the main thrust of this is the feeling most of us have. We look to our
mothers for support and guidance throughout our lives…and well, let’s face
it, growing up is sometimes scary and although it’s something we all have to
do, it’s not all peaches and cream. But growing up is also saying goodbye to
your mother in a way, isn’t it?

	Get what I’m driving at? ^_^ Shinji’s sai-kidou, IMO, is pure fear and
rage, primal in it’s nature. For his mother is gone and he knows not what he
does. How many of us feel the same way in our lives…the fact that we need
someone, and that she’s just not there.

	There is a lot of imagery and symbolisms associated with mothers in EVA,
that’s for sure. 

	Anyway, C&C is appreciated and all that. BTW, I believe I am the first
Singaporean ever to write a fanfic. (If not, definitely the first to write
an EVA one) Anyone care to correct me on this?


Explanation of Japanese in this fic:

Kaasan - Mother, without the "o" honorific
Tousan - Father, same applies
Ne, Shin-chan? - Something like, "how is it, Shin-chan?"
Anata wa utsukushii - You’re beautiful
Aishiteru - I love you

These might be a bit inaccurate because I don’t know exactly how Shinji
speaks. (For all I know, it could be "boku wa suki da?" ^_^)

	This fanfic is dedicated to my mother.

	

	



	

Zhou Tai An (kain@pacific.net.sg) "There is no one simple truth." - Rune Walsh

"Who is this? This is I. Who is I? What is I?		   - Rei Ayanami
I am myself. This object is I. The figure that forms me."

When someone stands in the light but does not give it out, a shadow is created.

The ways of nature and of life are strange and deep. They are not to be
understood. In the midst of angers and of wars love's secret work goes on,
and binds us all by blood, and this, whether love is denied or bestowed. -
Pearl S. Buck