Part 1

Strangely, I love carrots, but I hate peas. It's a random thought, I know, but I have to say it. The pile of steaming peas in front of me was taunting me. Green should not exist naturally in the human body, whether by ingestion or growth. I glanced to my right.

No one.

Now my left.

No one.

I looked everywhere except in front of me. Dad was probably giving me some sappy look. If I look now, I'll get some hour long lecture about good hygiene and how it's not healthy to avoid things just because I don't like it. He's always been like this, feeling that he has to make up for mom's absence by doing double parenting. Some Freudian shit.

I took refuge in how wonderfully bright my spoon was, observing how a brilliant glint peeked amidst the fluffy Jasmine rice.

"Shinji, how was your day?"

Peas and carrots? Not a perfect pair. If it was, then it just isn't meant to be for me. Perfect pairs aren't just limited to peas and carrots. I learned this life rule early and it only got worse after I met-

"Shinji?"

I almost looked up, but caught myself. Almost got caught in the guilt trap. Dad always had the beaten puppy voice down pat. I love Dad, but he can take the whole victim schtick too far. I hope it's not genetic. I refuse to become a victim. They get hurt. They can't fight back. And worse yet, they whined about the unfairness. I'm not a victim. I assert this again:

I.

Am.

Not.

A.

Victim.

"Hey."

I turned my head so quickly that I hurt my neck. That's how eager I was. "Hey."

She stopped short of me. We looked at each other. Silence loomed like an umbrella providing cool shade.

"I—um-I just wanted to say hi, so...hi," she ended lamely.

"Yeah, hi. Uh, so you see anything good last night?"

Her hazel eyes danced in amusement. "I don't watch much TV."

"Yeah...same." I lied. A rerun of Gundam Wing was on the other night, followed by another one, and then another. Let's just call it quits and deem it a marathon.

A smile peeked from the corner of her mouth, judging from the tiny dimple on her cheek. "I was just going to buy lunch."

"I don't trust food here. Unless it's prepackaged and untouched." I paused and realized how abrasively blunt that was. To my relief, her smile only shrunk by the smallest inflation of the dimple.

"That's an interesting thought. So you don't eat lunch?"

"I eat from the vending machines," I said airily, trying to pass off a devil-may-care attitude.

It didn't work.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Doesn't sound healthy."

"Neither does your option," I pointed out and then I was inspired. "Why don't you try it out?"

"Oh, uh I only have my meal card on me," she said tentatively. Probably not eager to try my health regimen.

"No problem, I'll pay." I nodded my head in the direction of the machines. I eagerly strode, half hoping that she would follow and half hoping she wouldn't. I had only one dollar on me. Mark ups on the food are ridiculously high.

I heard nothing but the chatter and shuffle of the students around me, ensconced in their own lives. I risked a peek at some random individuals, praying they wouldn't notice. They didn't. They hardly ever did. In that peek, I saw segregation. Not by race, but by life. Shared experiences were only similar experiences and they didn't know anything beyond that. Nothing of how much they held for each other, but didn't dare share in fear of disconnection or rejection.

I turned my gaze skyward and slowed down, hands in pockets. Experience. Something I lacked and longed for. But I wasn't likely to get it. That would imply being open to a connection. Since mom, I stopped my connections. My castle was erected and there was no one to invade my serfdom of one. Dad's siege has been going for five years now, but no such luck. My castle stood strong and well maintained, unmarred by any such thing as intimacy. And I was alone.

"Hey!"

My ears rang. "Huh?"

"I've been yelling for a while now. Anything the matter?"

She was back! I blinked in surprise.

A blush formed on her tan cheeks. "Don't look at me like that."

"Oh, uh, sorry." I didn't know that I was staring. "So..."

"The vending machine?"

"Yeah, right!" I walked with a little more bounce in my step. At least I think I did. Otherwise I just looked like I was drunk.

Five minutes and an in-depth investigation of sweet vs. salty foods later, she took my dollar and bought her chips.

"You eat this every day?"

"No, I often bring my own lunch," I lied.

"Okay." She took a bite of her chips and seemed satisfied. "Do you want one?"

"Sure."

It's funny to think of beginnings. All too often, they're mundane and commonplace, but as you look back, they only grow in importance as what comes from it steadily blooms into a truly meaningful...something.

My one started over a bag of Shrimp Chips.

The peas still mocked me to no end. I glared contemplatively at them.

"Son. Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dad," I said automatically.

"Oh, okay." I could see him in my mind, looking down at his plate with his head hung. Mom was always the more assertive of the two. What her disappearance did to him, I don't know. He didn't even try to date anyone else. Now that I think about it, I've never seen him do anything, but work on his latest housing project or mope at his computer. Other than me, he never tried to talk to anybody. Was it only because I was his son? Or was I the only tie he had to the wife he loved so dearly?

Another castle was built right under my nose. Like father, like son in a twisted way. When is the first brick laid down? I remember when it happened for me.

Chewing has always been an activity that nags at me. The jaw goes up and down, up and down. Never ending until the food has been pulverized. We can never take something as it is. We always have to force it into a shape that we want. I thought this as I watched Asuka ravage her bento. Her mom always did make the best ones.

"Are you going out with her again?" Asuka mumbled through her food. She was never all that concerned with manners around me for some reason. And oddly neither was I around her.

"Yeah, another date for Tuesday." I fumbled with my bag of Fritos.

"Oh." Asuka's chewing slowed.

She was holding back something. "Why do you ask?"

Asuka avoided my eyes. "I sa—it's nothing."

"What?" My Fritos would have to wait.

Asuka finally met my gaze and contemplated something for a moment before answering. "It's just I saw her going out with Kaworu a couple days ago."

I was shocked, but hid my reaction. I mean it's not like we were ever exclusive or anything. I know Kaworu. He's a good guy. Better than me in more than a few ways. "Oh."

"Are you okay, Shinji?" Asuka looked concerned.

"Yeah. We're allowed to date other people. It wasn't anything special." Was it?

Asuka brightened a little. "Okay. So have you asked anyone else out?"

I paused. "Yeah. Just asked a girl last week."

Lying is only helpful when you're lying to yourself.

"-And that's when I realized that she was special. I was just some nerd. And for some reason the star track athlete liked me. She towered over me by at least a foot, which," Dad laughed. "made it really awkward to...I'll tell you when you're older, but know who that girl was?"

Mom. Mom. Mom. He's told this story a thousand times already. But every night, he reminisces about her. At the same time, every night the wine inches closer to the rim of the glass.

"Your mom! I couldn't believe it. I just about lost my mind when she asked me out on a date!"

That did fascinate me. Mom was domineering and assertive, whereas Dad was...Dad. A more mismatched pair couldn't have been imagined. But like all things it didn't last. Especially when you judge by the burgeoning wine collection accumulating in the cellar. Even happy, stable relationships bring pain just like an uneven one.

I know. I know. I'm late about a lot of stuff. Well, this is the life of an IB senior. Until the end of my college apps I can only offer some meager story like this. Pick up lines and Rising sun won't be updated until then. One week, I wrote this as an original story at first, but then I realized that this is actually something I would think of for an alternate reality sort of Shinji. This is a continuity where I figured Shinji to be the most mentally healthy. In between work, I was writing this to express some empathy for my bud, who unfortunately still can't get over an ex-girlfriend. This is a three parter, so stay tuned. I apologize to any of my readers who are disappointed in me. I just have way too much stuff on my plate these days. All I can say is that I'll get to it. Might not be soon, but I will. So don't sweat it. Also, don't forget to review. I am a growing writer in need of feedback!