SPOILER WARNING (duh)
PM Productions Presents
A Phillip Masters Fanfic
Katsuragi Misato

     I stare at the empty beer can as I roll it around in my hand.  The
sides cave in slightly under the changing pressure, causing small noises
as if water were striking aluminum foil.  The stark, glaring light of
the moon comes in through the window and sparkles off the can's edge.  
     Outside, the barest hint of dawn can be seen if one were to
concentrate really hard.  Personally, I don't have the energy or proper
state of mind to do such a thing.  The only reason I know of the sunrise
at all is because it happens every morning at this time.  Otherwise I
could care less.
     Shutting my eyes, I lean my head back against the wall.  Even the
slight contact sends a wave of a billion pinpricks throughout my head
and spine.  I know I will have to get out of bed in an hour or so.  I'll
have to drag my way into the shower, clean the grime from my stagnant
body as well as possible, and finally put on the face which I'll try to
keep until the end of the day.  Only occasionally does that face betray
me.
     One such circumstance was the moment in which I knew Kaji would not
be returning to me ever again.  Even that took time... the first itch
came before we even finished making love the last night I saw him.  It's
a time when two people come together, closer than any other bond known.
I became him, and he became me... for that brief instant in time we were
truly one.
     In that spasm of orgasmic pleasure I saw the truth, and it glared
straight back at me.  It was unrelenting and undeniable... yet, after
almost two decades of learning to lock out everything that could even
possibly hurt me in any way I simply ignored it.  Ignored it... I may as
well have ended his life then and there.  
     I wonder sometimes if that is also what he did when he looked at my
soul.  When I opened myself more completely than even I would have
imagined possible.  Did he just ignore the filth he discovered there?
Or did he simply take pity on me, like a small child?  
     Pain snaps be back to the present.  I watch, almost disconnected,
as blood drips steadily from my wrist.  After a few minutes I slowly and
carefully release my iron grip upon the can.  The color rushes back into
my knuckles, but the lasceration still remains.  It will take more time
for that to heal.
     I blink casually, and the movement draws my attention to a wetness
around my eyes.  My fingers discover what I had already guessed at...
tears.  The moonlight plays off my moist fingertips, ironically warmer
and more beautiful than the reflection from the can.    
     I cried that day, of course.  I wanted to die.  I would have been
overjoyed if someone had come in at that moment and gunned me down.
However, in retrospect, I don't even truly know if that would have
killed the feeling.  Not knowing what happens when we die has always
scared me to the point of uncontrolable shaking.  For that one reason
alone do I wear the cross that hangs perpetually at my breast.  
     Shinji could hear me.  Asuka always comments on how thin Japanese
walls are, and she is not exaggerating in the slightest.  He most likely
tried to hide behind his SDAT player, it seems as if that is his only
escape... or the only one he will except.  I tried to stop, tried to
muffle it, if not only for his sake.  
     Ever since Kaji... went away... I turned my attentions to the only
other person I ever felt love for.  I needed the security, the
closeness, the feeling of being useful to someone.  Shinji was that
person.  Had he been older perhaps I would have seduced him.  I can't
help but think how lucky he is that he's only fourteen and I have
morals.  
     My lips crack into a small smile.  Even in such a loose, drunken
state I can still manage to bullshit myself.  One might call me a master
of self-deception.  I've had a lot of practice.  Too much perhaps... but
that's the beauty of it, you can do it repeatedly without knowing it
until it's too late.  
     There's only one real reason I would never actually have sex with
Shinji.  Because if I did, he would see what Kaji saw, the true me.  I
never want him to see that... I love him too much to do that to him.  
     Or maybe I won't because while he doesn't now the truth he still
cares about me, and if I lost that I would lose everything entirely.  Is
it that I hang on to him like a life preserver, every bit as much as he
hangs on to that damn tape player?
     Could I really be so selfish?  Could I really be so cold?  Could I
truly be so jealous of a SDAT player?!
     Shit, I'm a mess.  Drunk, scared, insane, and pitiful.  I know all
this, yet I allow it to persist, a constant raging battle greater than
any I've seen against the Angels right here inside my own skull.  
     Am I a masochist?
     Am I just creating an illusion?
     Or am I just normal in this world of madness?
     One thing I know for absolute certain... beer and Shinji's leftover
okonomiyaki do not mix when aged overnight.  I really should stop with
the allnighters... they leave me way too reflective and in a bad mood
the following day.  I wonder what would help me sleep?
     Wonder if I should buy a SDAT player?
- END -
Please send all comments to this address.  I'm aware it's been a while
since I've posted here... but I've been busy and down with a hurt finger
(doesn't effect life much, but it makes typing a hideous bitch).  Why
did I come back with this of all things?  Well, why not?
Thanks for reading,
PMasters (1-14-99)
Happy Belated New Year!      

"I'm only holding back the rain.  So many raindrops, so many pains.  I
want to find my train someday.  As seasons go past the station." - Tokyo
Babylon OVA 1
/ E-mail: PhilMasters@webtv.net /
"...has anyone ever used something alive for a coat of arms?" - The
Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea (Mishima Yukio, 1965) / 
"You see, what you call a cat, we use as armor." - Rune (El-Hazard,
1994)