Kind Crimson Eyes

Familiar

     We make our way through the busy streets of Tokyo-3, to wherever it is Kaworu's taking us. He won't tell me where we're going, only that I need to trust him.

     As we walk, I can't help but admire all of the shops and vendors we pass.
     The colourful signs and displays are so flashy and bright it almost gives me a migraine. Not to mention the constant deafening hum of the city life is enough to cut your senses off and make you forget where you are.
     I avoid the streets during the daytime as best as I can. I'm still not used to the amount of people around at any given time. After having lived in a smaller rural city for most of my life, it's overwhelming.

    After walking for a few blocks, a hauntingly sad melody played on a cello breaks through the mind numbing roar of the city.
      I eventually spot a weathered man with an unkempt beard sitting on a milk crate at the edge of the sidewalk. At his side is a sleeping dog curled up next to an opened cello case with a few coins and bills scattered inside.
     The man's eyes are closed as he plays a sad melody on his cello, seemingly for the small amount of money passerby's throw his way.

     I stop to listen to him. The song instantly feels familiar and leaves me with a lonely feeling of nostalgia in the pit of my stomach.
     Before I realize it, I can no longer hear the hum of the city. The only thing I'm focused on is the music. It's just me and the melody and I involuntarily close my eyes.

     I definitely know the song. It's been wired into my brain, I'm sure of it. I just can't place it...
     I start to see little glimpses of someone.
     A young, brown haired woman sits at a piano and places her fingers on the keys. She plays the familiar melody along with the cello.
     I'm sure I know this woman from a long time ago. I try hard to picture her face, but her features are foggy, like they've somehow been erased.
     The woman looks to her side as a small boy with brown hair the same colour as her own climbs up onto the bench beside her.
     She gently takes the boys hands and places them on the keys, demonstrating how to play.
     The little boy copies her clumsily, But keeps sneaking peaks at a small cello that stands displayed beside the piano.
     The boy has a worried look on his face..as though he wants to play well for his mother.

     His mother..
     How do I know that she is his mother..
     Mother.
     Is that...my..?

     "Shinji!"