Chapter 525: The Innocence of Youth
The massive ecological trauma left by Ramiel, under the continuous and highly efficient action of the "Seed of Metatron," was being repaired at a speed exceeding the most optimistic predictions of NERV's environmental department.
The area once covered by an ominous scarlet, where signs of life had been nearly cut off, had now regained clear seawater. In the moist soil along the coast, newborn greenery was tenaciously poking its head out, becoming another remarkable achievement of the Ninth Research Institute in the field of ecological restoration.
During this rare, peaceful restoration period, Shinji Ikari became a frequent visitor to the Ninth Research Institute.
This increasingly recovering azure sea seemed to become his "safe haven" to escape from battles, orders, and inner turmoil.
Under the influence of Ryo's attitude—which was somewhere between a rigorous scholar and a gentle older brother—Ryo never forced him to speak, but would always patiently answer every one of his questions, no matter how simple—subtle yet continuous changes were happening in Shinji.
A genuine, relaxed smile would occasionally appear on his pale face. When conversing with others, although his voice was still not loud, it was no longer always mumbled or required repeated confirmation from the other party.
He began to develop a curiosity about things around him, actively asking Ryo about the symbiotic mechanisms of certain corals, or the relationship between tides and the distribution of marine microorganisms.
Sometimes, when Ryo was busy processing data, he would even actively help record the numbers of petri dishes or the periodic changes in water temperature. His movements went from cautious at the beginning to gradually becoming proficient.
In this peaceful time, the daily lives of the teenagers added a rare touch of warmth to the cold NERV system.
The day Shinji brought his classmates to visit, the sea breeze was just right.
Kensuke Aida excitedly pointed and shouted at the colorful schools of fish in the breeding pools, while Touji Suzuhara was more interested in the massive water circulation system.
Shinji stood between the two, carrying a bit of nervousness on his face, but still tried hard to recall the knowledge he had heard from Ryo, explaining the symbiotic relationship between corals and small fish to his friends.
"These are damselfish, they help the coral clean off parasites..." Shinji's voice was a bit hesitant at first, but gradually became fluent under his friends' focused gazes.
Sunlight filtered through the seawater, casting swaying spots of light on the ceiling. The teenagers' figures elongated in the corridor, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of seawater.
Rei Ayanami's arrivals were always very quiet.
She always appeared in the afternoon, stepping on the corridor floor slightly warmed by the sun, like a quiet swimming fish diving into this azure world.
At that time, the setting sun was just right. The golden glow penetrated the massive observation windows, illuminating the entire aquarium with vibrant colors.
Countless spots of light danced among the ripples, like a flowing dream.
She would stand quietly in front of the glass, her pale fingertips unconsciously tapping the cold glass surface.
Schools of golden trevally swam leisurely past her, their scales shimmering with fine golden glints in the light.
Once, an orange-and-white clownfish curiously paused in front of her, its bulging cheeks pressed against the glass, its gill covers opening and closing gently.
Rei Ayanami tilted her head slightly, her hair swaying gently with the movement. This unintentional little action was quietly caught by Shinji not far away, making him temporarily forget the observation logs in his hand.
Ryo would occasionally approach at this time, keeping his footsteps very light.
He handed Rei Ayanami a small box of fish food, the packaging paper shimmering in the sunlight.
The girl would always pause for a moment when taking it, then, mimicking Shinji's usual manner, carefully pinch a little bait and hover her hand over the water's surface.
When she opened her fingers, the fine bait drifted down onto the water's surface like stardust. The originally leisurely school of fish instantly became active.
Colorful figures scrambled to jump out, stirring up fine ripples on the water's surface.
Rei Ayanami's pupils dilated slightly, watching this small commotion caused by her.
This girl who was always expressionless seemed to have a faint glimmer in her red eyes, like the first fine crack on the ice surface in early spring.
Shinji pretended to organize equipment not far away, but his gaze couldn't help following her every subtle reaction.
He noticed that her breathing rhythm had changed. When a bold surgeonfish lightly touched her fingertip, her shoulders had an almost imperceptible curve of relaxation.
These subtle changes were like stones thrown into a lake, rippling outward in his heart.
Ryo stood a little further away, neither approaching too closely nor deliberately avoiding them.
He watched the sunlight dye the girl's blue hair pale gold, watched the school of fish gather and disperse around her, and felt that this afternoon was exceptionally peaceful.
This peace was not only healing this sea area, but also quietly changing everyone who approached it.
Shinji would sometimes bring his textbooks to the institute, sitting in the rest area overlooking the sea to do his homework.
When encountering a difficult problem, he would unconsciously chew on his pen. This habitual little action made Ryo, who was recording nearby, couldn't help but smile.
Kensuke and Touji would occasionally run over to ask him math problems. The sight of the three boys sitting around the table discussing was much more relaxed than in the classroom.
Even the staff of the institute gradually grew accustomed to the presence of these young visitors.
Researcher Tanaka would specifically save the newly cultivated starfish specimens for the students to observe, while Miyuki Suzuki would slip them some photocopied materials of marine biology field guides when they left.
These trivial daily occurrences washed over the post-war scars as gently as the tide. On this reborn coastline, the teenagers were finally able to temporarily lay down the burden of being saviors and simply enjoy the peaceful time appropriate for their age.
And Ryo stood before the laboratory window, watching the retreating backs of Shinji and his classmates walking shoulder-to-shoulder in the setting sun, feeling that such observation results were also quite satisfying.
In Ryo's quiet observation, the emotional bond naturally sprouting between Shinji Ikari and Rei Ayanami became a unique research window.
He was clearly aware that a profound connection existed between the pilots' mental states and the EVAs' combat efficacy.
This realization was not born out of calculation, but from his eternal curiosity about the essence of life as a researcher.
When the setting sun elongated the figures of the two, when Shinji's eyes brightened slightly due to a subtle reaction from Rei Ayanami, Ryo would jot down brief observation notes in the corner of his data pad.
What he recorded were not the heart-fluttering moments of the boy and girl, but the potential impact of this emotional connection on the pilots' synchronization ratios, stress responses, and will to fight.
In the eyes of Shinji and everyone who came into contact with him, Ryo was always that gentle scholar who would patiently explain marine knowledge by the sea and provide treatment for injured marine life.
His fingers handing Shinji an iced drink, his gesture pushing open the glass door of the observation room for Rei Ayanami, all carried genuine warmth.
These actions were not a disguise, but his way of understanding the world—gaining the most direct cognition through personal participation.
But deep beneath all these interactions, Ryo always maintained a clear awareness.
He would give just the right amount of encouragement when Shinji was feeling down, and would linger for a moment longer to explain when Rei Ayanami showed rare interest in a certain marine creature.
These actions stemmed both from genuine goodwill and encompassed a continuous assessment of the pilots' psychological states.
In the dead of night, as Ryo organized his observation logs from the day, he would occasionally add a few lines of remarks regarding the pilots' interaction patterns next to the environmental data of the "Seed of Metatron."
He knew clearly that this azure sea was not only nurturing new life but also nourishing a more complex emotional ecology. And understanding this ecology might be just as important as understanding the Angels.
This dual perspective was not contradictory, just as the seawater could both reflect the azure of the sky and contain the undercurrents deep below.
Ryo was both the researcher who would smile faintly at the youthful interactions of the boy and girl, and the observer who always remembered why he had come to this place.
In this world full of miracles and pain, he chose to exist in this way—immersed within it, yet maintaining a distance; offering care, yet never losing his clarity of mind.