She hates having these feelings of emptiness...these pangs.

They feel like a disease; an affliction of sorts that won't leave. She remembers when she never gave a damn, when it was her and her alone; when things were simpler like that.

It's like feeling anguish and distress, watching every little step that you take, covering your self, your whole self in shame. She's had room and time to spare; to feel the emptiness, vacant hole within her being filled by a world of hurt and pain.

It's misery and torment, not wanting anyone to know, not wanting any one to care because she can't care, she doesn't want to care and she feels that if she lets it slip, if she lets it slide between the comfort of hating and begins caring just for a second, then everything will come tumbling down on to her, like the carefully crafted house of cards she has made to guard herself from an uncaring outside world.

Why haven't I...He'd never have...

It's like a torture of sorts. And she's weary and tired and-

Whenever I think I've finally found my happiness, something happens to take it away from me again. Mama's death...The EVA series...And now this, separating me from the first one who loved me in years!

She feels like this pain is ripping her insides, letting her out raw and bloodied and dirty and filthy and she can't help but think of it as something she doesn't want; like scabs.

Dark, dirty scabs that seem to fill her very soul, her very core and essence; like a disfigurement, and injury.

He'll never understand. Not this. He can't...

A mark.

She hates the pangs of emptiness...of pain and hunger and guilt.

Damn you...damn you...

But she hates them most because she knows they will soon become pangs of birth.

She loves fall.

She is sitting, watching the red autumn leaves falling, scattering to the ground.

That pure, wide smile. The first picture that washed over her.

For her, autumn has always been a time of passing, of moving on. Like beginnings that allow her to have a clean slate, a blank canvass with where to start anew, to be born again.

An chestnut haired, dark blue eyed face.

She reflexively feels something tapping against her head, and extracts one of those red-brown leaves that are falling and fluttering around her, caught between her own coppery strands; its red and brown, like her hair, but of a much darker color, almost like-

She closes her eyes and begins to remember.

And she remembered.

She remembers the first time he caressed her; physical contact taken in small baby steps; the weight and warmth of the body held in her sleep.

"Well, there actually is one I like, how... how about...?"
"You're kidding...That doesn't sound very good. Sohryu is a much better..."

She feels a lonely tear making its way across her cheek, and she looks up and sees Shinji's face; quietly, solemnly.

And she knows it's time.

He extends his hand and she takes it to stand up.

Like a small child.

The innocent look when caught doing something bad; her first words and all those that followed afterwards...

The way she often was sleeping in her bed with her clothes still on and her feet having kicked off the blanket covering her, and how she would hear Shinji's faint sigh, and then he would kneel besides her and start to undress her-

She closes her eyes, and knows that next time she opens them everything will be changed; the only constant being them, their feelings.

How could she have ever forgotten it?

Their memories and remembrances of themselves.

"She had a smile that could melt even the coldest heart."

She really loves Autumn and fall.


I knew I was forgetting someone back I must first and foremost ask for forgiveness for forgetting; it's unforgivable, unmentionable sin.

御免なさい 秋, アキ, あき

That said I must ask 'him' for forgiveness as well. She deserves her place, no doubt about it.


EB, out.