Hansen stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit pants and turned to leave.
That tall, straight back disappeared around the corner of the corridor, as if a theater director had stepped aside to leave the stage for the actors.
The air solidified.
Suzuhara Toji, snapping back to reality, felt a bit at a loss. The hot-headed anger that had fueled him earlier had cooled by half due to Hansen's intervention, and he hesitated over whether to continue throwing punches.
Quite a few students were attracted by the commotion, watching from afar and whispering to each other.
Every gaze, like a searchlight, focused on the two boys standing in confrontation.
"Hey..."
However, when Suzuhara Toji saw the weak-looking Shinji Ikari in front of him, the anger in his eyes burned with renewed determination.
"Did you hear that? Even the teacher told you to fight back!"
He viciously stepped forward, and the oppressive feeling mixed with the smell of sweat and rage made Shinji instinctively retreat, his back slamming heavily against the cold wall with a dull "thud".
There was nowhere left to retreat.
In his mind, the excruciating pain of eva unit-01 being pierced by a spear of light, the apocalyptic scene of the city turning into ruins amidst flames, the pale face of Rei Ayanami lying in a hospital bed... countless chaotic images flashed across his mind.
And that man's gentle yet deafening voice.
"In the end, people have to rely on themselves."
Shinji Ikari's lips trembled, imagining, as he had countless times over the past fourteen years, bowing his head and letting the other person do as he pleased.
But this time, he didn't want to let that person down again.
"That kind of thing, I... I didn't want it to happen either!"
Shinji closed his eyes and, using every ounce of his strength, let out a roar suppressed by fear and grievance.
He swung a punch wildly, the motion soft and weak, more like a child throwing a tantrum.
However, because of extreme tension and fear, his legs had long since gone weak; unfortunately, he stepped on a small pebble, and his body instantly lost its balance.
"Plop!"
His fist missed, brushing past the corner of Toji's clothes, and Shinji fell hard onto the ground in an extremely pathetic belly-flop.
The whole scene was dead silent.
"Pfft—"
Among the students watching the fun from afar, someone couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Suzuhara Toji was also stunned by this comical scene. He watched Shinji struggling on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. Just as he was about to mock him, he saw the other boy struggling to prop up his upper body with his elbows.
Shinji's clean face was covered in dust, and the corner of his mouth was bruised from the impact, seeping a trace of blood.
But in those eyes that were always dodging, a faint yet incredibly stubborn flame was now burning.
He was glaring at him.
This guy who only knew how to apologize and run away was actually glaring at him!
"You guy..." Toji's face flushed red instantly, a surge of annoyance mixed with being looked down upon completely igniting the rage in his chest. "...Are you looking down on me?!"
"Roar!"
He let out a loud roar, and without any further hesitation, his fist, as big as a sand pot, followed up with a swing.
The two boys were now brawling together.
There was no fighting technique, no tactical discipline.
It was more like two young beasts meeting in their territory, biting and rolling over each other in the most primitive way.
Although Suzuhara Toji held an absolute advantage in physical strength, Shinji Ikari's seemingly frail body erupted with a resilience that didn't match it.
Having withstood the initial fierce barrage of punches and kicks, his eyes reddened, and he headbutted Suzuhara Toji, making Toji's vision go black; then, the two fell into a stalemate of wrestling!
You give me a punch, I kick you back.
Dust flew everywhere.
"Oh oh oh! A historic scene!"
Aida Kensuke, the side military otaku and photography enthusiast, not only didn't try to break up the fight, but excitedly raised his precious camera, lowered his voice, and provided a "live broadcast" in a tone that was almost fanatical.
"Did you see that! Viewers! Contender Shinji has used an unexpected 'lazy donkey roll', beautifully dodging Contender Suzuhara's heavy 'fist of fury'!"
"Now! They are hugging each other! Is this a struggle of friendship, or the confusion of youth? The lens does not lie! Let us continue to follow!"
No one paid any attention to his commentary.
On the second-floor corridor, Hansen leaned against the railing, a playful smile on his face, watching the clumsy brawl below.
—Although it was a bit clumsy, they had finally taken the first step.
... A few minutes later.
The two wrestling boys finally exhausted their last bit of strength.
They separated, bruised and swollen, and both lay side-by-side on the ground in a spread-eagle position.
Their chests heaved violently as they gasped for air, sweat soaking their collars.
The sunlight spilled onto their battered faces, looking somewhat comical, yet inexplicably harmonious.
There was a long silence.
Suzuhara Toji looked at the sky and spoke gloomily, his voice intermittent due to panting: "My sister... only broke her arm... The doctor said there is no danger to her life."
In his voice, there was no longer the previous anger, only a kind of calm after exhaustion.
Shinji Ikari, lying beside him, slowly turned his head.
He looked at Toji's profile, where there was also a clear bruise. It seemed his fist had hit that spot.
Shinji's lips moved, and he said softly, yet exceptionally clearly: "Sorry..."
"...But, I really don't want to pilot that thing."
"Tch..." Toji continued to look at the sky, letting out a breath of stale air.
There was another silence.
A clear male voice rang out above them.
"Are you done fighting?"
Both of them stiffened simultaneously and turned to look.
Hansen didn't know when he had walked down, and he was carrying a white first-aid kit in his hand.
He squatted between the two, opened the box, and inside were neatly placed disinfectant, cotton balls, gauze, and band-aids.
Hansen used tweezers to pick up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and skillfully pressed it onto the wound at the corner of Toji's mouth.
"Hiss—! It hurts, hurts, hurts!"
Toji grimaced and shouted, hurting like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
Immediately after, another cool cotton ball was precisely pressed onto the abrasion on Shinji's face.
"Hiss..."
He also gasped in pain, his body instinctively shrinking back.
Hansen looked at their identical disheveled states and chuckled.
"It's good that you know it hurts."
As he treated their wounds, he said in a calm tone.
"You fought well, like men."
Hearing this praise, Shinji Ikari's cheeks flushed red instantly, the heat even masking the stinging pain of his wounds.
He lowered his head quickly, not daring to look into Hansen's eyes, but the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curled upwards slightly.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before, mixed with shyness, pain, and a huge sense of satisfaction.
Under the setting sun, the battered faces of the boys were inexplicably dazzling.
And on the balcony of the second floor of the teaching building.
Rei Ayanami's light blue figure stood quietly, like a statue that would not be eroded by time.
She took in everything that happened on the playground, from the brawl to the reconciliation, and then to the man appearing with a medical kit, treating the wounds with gentle movements, and giving recognition in a calm tone... all of it.
In her crimson eyes, a trace of imperceptible contemplation flashed.
Instinctively, Rei Ayanami clenched her fist.
Inside it, it seemed there still remained a trace of warm power bestowed by that man.
—Fighting... then... being recognized.
—Is that so?
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