“I can’t understand a damn word here,” is all I can think, as my brother Michael and I stand outside Tokyo-3 Junior High. All the little squiggles and pictures, while completely understandable to everyone around us, are little more then encrypted code to our eyes. We just moved here from Dallas/Ft. Worth, Texas in the United States, since Dad got a transfer to Nerv Central. It came as a shock to all of us, and we had only had time to learn enough Japanese to communicate with the people here. Unfortunately, we still didn’t know anything of these pictograms they use as a written language.
While Nerv battles the Angels, life still goes on for the civilian population of Tokyo-3. How are some of them handling this nightmare? A view from one of the students of classroom 2-A. Under Reevaluation!
As Michael and I made our way towards downtown Tokyo-3 to pick up some things we needed at home, I thought about the events of this first day. It had been one of the strangest days of my life. I wrote most of it off to being the new kid. Granted, I hadn’t been the new kid for a long time. If anything, I had always been one of the kids who had always been around. Now I wasn’t, and I sure did miss the security that position gave me. I suppose it’s never easy to accept a change like this, so sudden and different.
It had been about three weeks since the incident with what I later learned to be the Tenth Angel. During that time, Mana and I had become good friends, going out to movies or meals. She helped me out with my Japanese, and I could speak more easily with her and the other people around me. There were times I needed her to translate for me still, but they were getting fewer and farther in between. Mana was an even bigger help when it came to the homework they gave in class.
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