Chapter 9
"Allow me to greet you once again, Shinji-kun," Hikari Horaki said, offering her hand for a... handshake? It was a bit too formal for my taste. Unusual, too, considering some of the older generation still frown upon this European tradition that migrated here in the early nineties.
Well, since she adheres to such progressive cultural trends, let's break the mold a bit.
I stood up and took the girl's hand, leaning in slightly. I didn't quite press my lips to the back of her hand, merely mimicking a kiss.
Straightening up, I offered the Class Representative a soft smile.
"A pleasure to meet you, Horaki-chan."
To her credit, she ignored the whistling from her friends gathered behind her. She met my gesture with remarkable composure, save for a barely perceptible flush across her freckled face.
A sharp snap came from the direction of Suzuhara, the tracksuit enthusiast. Glancing over, I saw him toss the two halves of a pencil—which he had been twirling just moments ago—into the bin behind him.
Interesting. And judging by the faint look of confusion on Toji's face, he didn't quite realize why he'd reacted so violently himself.
"Since you're new to our class, I think it's best if you familiarize yourself with our duties and the upcoming cleaning roster," Hikari handed me a printout. It was a table showing all the students in the class, divided into pairs. Well, almost all of them.
"Boring," Rei huffed from her seat. She still hadn't put down her console, apparently intent on spending the entire day in the virtual world.
And Ayanami was indeed the only person on the list without a partner.
Hmm, social ostracism? Or did Akagi's daughter simply have no desire to interact with anyone more than necessary? As I recalled, she had expressed her feelings toward school quite bluntly.
"I'm not being boring, Ayanami-chan. I am fulfilling my duties as the Representative of Class 2-A," Horaki declared proudly, tilting her nose up.
My fellow pilot slowly turned her head toward her classmate, gifting her a bewildered look from her ruby eyes.
"Boring," Rei repeated calmly before diving back into her game.
Perhaps I have a fetish for strange girls, because I find this behavior rather endearing. Then again, if a guy were doing this, it would just be irritating.
Subtle gender inequality.
"As you wish, Ayanami-chan," the Class Rep didn't push it, holding her palms up in a peace offering. "In any case, Shinji-kun, I assume you don't mind being paired with your neighbor?"
"No problem," I replied without hesitation. I'd seen the question coming a mile away, especially with all the clues laid out in front of me. "After all, we're true friends."
Rei's console vibrated and emitted a nasty beep, followed by a nasal voice announcing: "Game Over."
It seemed someone was now officially aware of the "label" I had worked so hard to pin on us both.
Nevertheless, she said nothing aloud.
"Wonderful," Horaki clapped her hands, unable to contain her enthusiasm. "Then, since all the organizational matters are settled..."
The Class Rep hesitated, seemingly unsure how to continue.
"Tell us, Shinji-kun, do you have a girlfriend?" one of her friends piped up, shouting from the back of the group.
I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow at my classmates. They were standing there using the Class Rep as a human shield. So, they'd made her their diplomat?
"Don't you think that question falls into the 'personal' category?" I chuckled, leaning against the edge of the desk while maintaining a faint smile.
"Well, it's not like we're asking who she is or what she looks like," a green-haired girl with a high ponytail shot back mischievously, crossing her arms. It's a pity the class chat doesn't have avatars; I had no idea what her name was. "I'm Mei Fukuda, by the way. If you call me 'Fu-chan,' I'll be offended!"
"We aren't nearly close enough for such familiar nicknames, Fukuda-chan," I huffed, looking into her purple eyes. "And fine, I suppose I can answer."
I leaned forward slightly, resting my palms on my knees.
"But why do you want to know?"
"They just like digging through other people's laundry," Ayanami commented melancholically. "Typical normies."
Mei rolled her eyes.
"Ayanami, you get weirder every single day." There was no malice in her tone, just a sort of weary resignation.
I'll have to ask Misato how long the blue-haired girl has been trying to be "not like the other girls," playing the role of the misunderstood teenager. Ideally, it would be nice to find out from Ayanami herself what prompted this behavior. There are, after all, plenty of other ways to create a unique "persona."
I turned my gaze back to Mei, who was clearly waiting for my answer to the big question.
Naturally, nothing was stopping me from answering, and I might even derive a bit of pleasure from the process. I just had to decide: weave a web of lies or choose the truth, with a hint of... omission.
I smirked inwardly.
They say that if you want to deceive someone, you should tell them the truth they least want to hear.
"Well, if you're so curious, Fukuda-chan," I paused dramatically, ratcheting up the tension as I spoke slowly, hiding a sadistic note in my voice, "the answer is yes. I do have a girlfriend."
My statement didn't cause a massive uproar, but judging by the quiet clicking of tongues and the disappointed faces, I had successfully crushed a few dreams. Fukuda herself didn't look upset by the news. On the contrary, an even greater curiosity flared in the depths of her purple eyes.
I could guess exactly what follow-up question was coming, breaking the very rule she had set at the start.
Rei, without looking up from her console, asked phlegmatically:
"And who is she?" Her voice sounded completely indifferent, but I caught her fingers freezing on the buttons out of the corner of my eye.
Unexpected.
Mei was supposed to ask that, not you...
Fine, let's shuffle the deck. I'll test the blue-haired girl's composure and the limits of her patience. Fortunately, I have a move in my arsenal that is incredibly stupid yet often effective.
"Ayanami-chan, are you jealous?" I asked, the corners of my mouth twitching up as I turned toward her.
"Of you?" Rei didn't even grant me a glance. She quickly pulled off an attack combo in her game, triggering a "Victory!" shout, then turned off the console before finally looking up. "I just don't believe there's anyone in the world capable of tolerating such a lamer."
Looking into her indifferent crimson eyes, I huffed.
"So, am I a lamer or a normie?"
The girl blinked slowly, lost in thought.
"A normal lamer? A lamery normie?" I doubted "lamery" was a real word.
After sitting there for about five seconds, she finally reached her conclusion.
"You're annoying." Accompanied by her trademark gesture, she... turned away, pretending to pout.
"Ayanami-chan," I lowered my voice. "Cool girls don't pout."
Realizing her mistake, Rei put on her best stone-faced expression and nodded.
"Thank you for the reminder."
Given how serious her tone was, I could barely keep from laughing.
She's a cutie. A total cutie!
Fukuda, unhappy about being completely excluded from the conversation, intervened again, trying to pull the talk back on track.
"So, who is the lucky girl?" Her eyes were practically sparkling with anticipation.
Turning back to her, I smiled softly.
"Fukuda-chan, didn't we agree I'd only answer yes or no, without any details?"
Mei opened her mouth to argue, but Hikari cut her off.
"Alright, girls, that's enough bothering Ikari-kun! He just joined our class!" The Class Rep swept a stern gaze over her classmates—who shrunk back slightly, including the green-haired girl—and nodded with satisfaction. "Besides, class is about to start. Did everyone prepare their materials?"
"Total buzzkill," someone whispered mockingly from the back of the crowd.
"Yoshimura-chan," Horaki's tone dropped several degrees as she squinted at the girl who'd spoken. "I'm reminding you that it's your turn to be called on first today."
"Oops?" the short, dark-haired girl with a bob laughed awkwardly and beat a hasty retreat to her seat.
Her "escape" served as a signal, and the rest of the girls scattered, leaving Hikari standing in solitary splendor.
"Sorry for the circus," my classmate sighed, rubbing her eyelids. "Sometimes they act like children."
"It's fine," I reassured her, hopping off the desk and sitting back in my chair. "No hard feelings." To wrap up the conversation, I asked: "Ayanami and I are the ones on cleaning duty today, right?"
It took Horaki a moment to process the question before she smiled.
"Yes, you are. Did you memorize the whole thing in one glance?"
"A good memory is the key to a happy life," I winked.
The school bell put a final period on our talk, forcing the Class Rep to take her seat at the front of the room.
I winced slightly as I replayed my last sentence in my head.
Yes, a very happy life. It's a shame that in my case, memory is selective, preferring to store the information I'd most like to forget in the "database."
---
When classes ended, Rei and I stayed behind to fulfill our new duties while the rest of our classmates headed home or to their clubs.
While I was stacking chairs and moving desks to align them, Rei had already wiped the board and started sweeping the floor.
One thing I noticed immediately: her movements were incredibly precise, as if she were following a strict pattern so familiar it had become automatic.
We didn't speak or even exchange looks while we cleaned, each absorbed in our own task. We finished in just twenty minutes.
Dusting off my hands, I looked over our handiwork.
"Looks like we're done."
Ayanami put the cleaning supplies back into their locker and slung her backpack over her shoulder.
"Done," she confirmed melancholically, standing right in front of me and looking into my eyes, as if waiting for something.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if the blue-haired girl would take the initiative or if I'd have to handle everything.
After a minute of silence, I sighed quietly.
"Do you need something?"
Rei nodded and, with an indifferent expression, declared:
"Take me out to eat."
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating.
"Take you out to eat?" I clarified.
The girl nodded again and poked me in the chest with her finger.
"You told everyone we are friends." After a brief thought, she added a bit tentatively: "Pay for the escort."
Since no one else was around, I could afford to let my emotional control slip a little.
There was only one thing I wanted to do.
"Why are you laughing?" Ayanami knit her brows, trying to press her finger into my chest muscles. Failing to get the desired effect, she gave my ribs a weak punch with her fist.
"Sorry, sorry," I said, gently catching her wrist and moving her hand aside. "If that is the price of our friendship, then I am willing to pay it."
At first, Rei started to smile, but as if struck by a sudden realization, she frowned again.
"But you can't pay for friendship, otherwise it isn't friendship," the blue-haired girl muttered, caught in another loop of cognitive dissonance.
Smirking inwardly, I pulled my pensive classmate toward me. She obediently took a step, nearly bumping her nose into my chest.
Zero reaction.
Fine, I'll give her time to "escape" the logical trap she'd walked into of her own free will. However, I had no desire to hang around in an empty classroom.
Taking her hand—it really was small compared to mine—I led her toward the exit.
As we headed downstairs, I kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't walk into anything. I led us outside, where the sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon.
"I still don't understand," Rei finally snapped out of it. "I didn't agree to friendship. You did. Therefore, it is a one-sided relationship that, for some reason, doesn't cause me any negative feelings."
Lowering her gaze, the blue-haired girl looked at her hand trapped in my grip. She shrugged and looked back up into my eyes.
"Ikari," she pursed her lips and grumbled with a hint of resentment: "You broke my brain."
All I could do was shrug and smile, clumsily changing the subject:
"So? Any food preferences?"
"Yes," Rei stood on her tiptoes and, enunciating every word, said: "I want meat, Ikari."
"Ikari?" I raised an eyebrow. "Not normie or lamer?"
Turning away sharply, Ayanami tugged on my hand.
"Fewer words, more calories." Once I started moving, she whispered almost inaudibly: "If you're a friend, you aren't a normie anymore."
Hiding my smile, I pretended I hadn't heard her last sentence.
Cutie.
---
Rei watched Shinji Ikari's broad back as he led her forward with confidence.
The Third Child. Gendo Ikari's son. Peer. Boy. Friend. Anomaly.
Six definitions that the girl couldn't quite rank, constantly doubting the correctness of her own judgment.
Which one was the most appropriate? Because a behavioral model, with its built-in social interaction patterns, depends directly on the quality of the connection between the participants in the communication process. But for it to work, one must clearly understand what is what.
And the longer she talked with Shinji Ikari, the more she realized that... she understood absolutely nothing.
"Do you have a place in mind?" He stopped at a traffic light and turned to her, looking directly into her eyes with a strange smile.
It was a smile; all the external factors suggested so. Nevertheless, Ayanami subconsciously felt that something was hidden within it. Something intangible, misleading. Anomalous.
She needed to respond to the request while remembering to maintain the properties of her chosen role.
A place for food. Not crowded. Atmosphere? Something dark. Deserted? It needed uniqueness.
Searching her memory, Rei pulled up a map of the city and, correlating their current position with the target point, reached out and pointed left.
"Two blocks that way, left at the hypermarket, then right into the alley near the bank, and down into a basement cafe," Ayanami said melancholically, concentrating on voicing the route.
She immediately gave herself a negative mental mark for the emotional component of her speech. She sounded like she didn't care again. Why was it so hard to connect emotions?
Doctor Akagi. Ritsuko Akagi. No.
"Bitch."
The "bitch" had said there were no pathologies in her brain, so the problem wasn't at an organic level. Then where? Psychology? Psychology is the science of the soul. Does she even have a soul?
What is a "soul"?..
"Great," Shinji Ikari chuckled, squeezing her hand a bit tighter and leading her on. "You're curing my topographical cretinism."
Catching the familiar word, Rei quickly built an analogy, intentionally cutting out the transition stages and jumping straight to the conclusion. Exactly as she'd been taught in those forum posts.
"Lamer," she said. But instead of the intended biting remark challenging her companion's overall intellect, a harmless insult escaped her mouth.
Rei blinked and frowned.
Another misfire.
"Why 'lamer' specifically?" Shinji Ikari turned his head slightly and caught her gaze, "smiling" once again.
"That's why you're a lamer, because you don't understand," Rei said, using one of her many pre-prepared templates. She looked away, focusing on their hands.
Specifically, at the cross-shaped scar on her companion's wrist.
Anomaly.
Too perfect. The horizontal line crossed the vertical line exactly in the center. Not natural in character.
But Shinji Ikari said he got it from a fall.
A lie?
Why lie about something like that?
Did he do it to himself? And he isn't trying to hide it? Furthermore, according to her analysis, Shinji Ikari did not fit the profile of a person capable of self-harm due to an unstable emotional state.
"I don't understand a lot of things in life," the boy replied breezily, catching a piece of paper that the wind had blown into his face. Crumpling it into a ball, the teenager deftly tossed it into a nearby bin. "And I'm glad. Because..."
Why does he try to look her in the eye so often?
It's abnormal. He should avoid it. Red means danger.
"If I knew everything, what would be the point of living, right?" He winked and stopped abruptly, causing Rei to almost walk into him. "This is the place you were talking about, isn't it?"
As if waking from a trance, Ayanami looked around.
"Yes," the girl nodded automatically, trying her best to understand how they had covered the distance so quickly. Or rather, not how, but... why she hadn't even noticed?
"Cafe 'Bloody Sunset,'" Shinji read the name of the basement establishment aloud and snorted. "I see you're staying true to your tastes."
Despite the fact that she had managed to hit the mark and maintain her role, Rei felt no joy. She was too preoccupied with solving a new riddle.
A riddle that had arisen because of Shinji Ikari.
Shinji Ikari.
The Third Child. Gendo Ikari's son. "Anomaly." Boy. Friend. Peer.
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