driftfleet | [video] we'll turn the moon to blood

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[video] we'll turn the moon to blood

Who: Asuka Shikinami Langley
Broadcast: Video, Fleetwide
Action: SS Red Fish
When: 3/8

[Asuka is sitting on her bed, with a bright red notebook and pen in hand and a slight frown crossing her face. She's still wearing the same form-fitting red-and-purple combat plugsuit she's been in since her arrival. For once, she doesn't look so much annoyed as she does wary, though honestly, with her, it's hard to tell.]

This is Asuka Shikinami Langley. [No wave. She scribbles something on a notebook page that's probably just a line and not any kind of script.] I have a few questions for everyone. The more people that answer, the more accurate the survey, so I suggest you tell me.

[All business. Asuka would applaud herself for her own professionalism if there was any point. There's no telling how long it'll last.]

First, I want to know your nationalities. Second, I want to know what your occupation was before the Fleet. I'm trying to figure out if there's a pattern to the kidnappings or any groups that get targeted more than others.

[Which is what the notebook is for. She really doesn't trust the network not to bungle everything at Atroma's whim. There's a brief, reluctant pause, and then--]

Before you ask, I was born in Germany. I was a pilot before, too. That's all.

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[Asuka feels, if anything, like she's tried harder. It seems like all Nagisa has to do is approach and Shinji's putty in his hands. It's her that has to plow her way through to get him to pay attention to her, to hope that maybe, stupidly, he might like her or care about her.]

[She looks at his plugsuit when they come inside. Picks it up, even. There's not a drop of blood on it.]

[Being direct is painful, but meandering around is worse. She forces herself to look up to respond.]

That doesn't tell me what you want.

[It doesn't matter what I want, he thinks at first, except it does. This one thing matters, and is the only thing that does.]

I want him to be happy.

[It's soft, but finally he's earnest: there are no glassy pretenses filming over his expression or the care of his words. He watches her handling his plugsuit, and says nothing about that. Piloting, at least, he will share with her without complaint. As for Shinji...]

That's all I want, Shikinami-san. That's really the only thing I want.

That's your problem.

[She says it flatly, with only the driest inflection. She unfolds his plugsuit, her own still hanging over one arm, and turns it to the back. It's good material. NERV might be a shadow of itself, barely as substantial as a skeleton, but there are areas where it still doesn't skimp.]

You're not focused on anything else. That's why you think you can be everything to him. [She doesn't look up, words falling out in a rush that surprises even her, her visible eye wide, a quavering in her stomach.] But you can't. I can't. It's not possible.

[If she's surprised, he's nearing shock. It's not possible, she says. Of course he knows that. His eyes are round and red like Mars before they turn downward. Uncomfortable, he busies himself with gathering the laundry into his arms.]

I don't think that I can be everything to him, [he says, hushed. Of course he knows that: he's not enough. He doesn't have to be everything, though. He just wants to help. If the destination is high, Kaworu will be a staircase.

He doesn't want to have this conversation with her, he realizes, and purses his lips.]

Let's go to the washer, [he says abruptly, closing this part of himself back off.] We'll put these in, and I'll do your plugsuit in the tub.

[He's changing the subject. Asuka lets his plugsuit drop to the floor without folding it back up at all. She'd gotten to him in a way that part of her hadn't quite meant to.]

Then what do you think you are to him?

[Patiently, patiently, Kaworu sets the laundry back onto the bed, and then stoops to retrieve the discarded plugsuit at Shikinami's feet. Patiently, patiently, he straightens himself, and then sets to work on folding the plugsuit. He does not sigh. To sigh is to be affected. He is not affected.]

I know that I am his friend. [He says it patiently. Patiently.]

Don't avoid me.

[How to phrase this so she doesn't end up blowing a fuse. Making a scene on his ship and just... just proving forever that she's not just a thorn in his side but an active, annoying threat. He'll keep her away from Shinji, if he thinks too badly about her. There's no question about it. It's the stupidest tug of war in the world, but it's all she's got.]

It's more than that. I know it's more than that. He does, too. [Deprived of his plugsuit to inspect and tug at, she stares instead at the laundry. It's not a big pile, not really.] You're wrapped up in him. He's all you've ever cared about. I'm not wrong there.

[It's really not a big pile, the laundry. Doing the wash this frequently is probably a waste of water. Back on the Earth they both knew, it'd be unthinkable. Kaworu folds up his plugsuit nice and neat, and then lays it back at the foot of the bed. There. It's in its place.

He starts bundling up the laundry again. Still patient. Still placid. Not at all afraid, so his body language says. But it took a long time to foster this capacity for composure. He had to tend to it like a garden. Like his tree.]

I wanted to be his friend. From the very start, that was what I wanted.

Quit avoiding me!

[God, how long can he dance around the truth? It's driving her mad, one calm, unaffronted word at a time, eroding the veneer of patience she can't even pretend to have. He doesn't want to talk about this. Well, fine. She'll make him talk about this.]

That's not all you want now. It's not.

No, I'm saying... [This is dangerous. Leave it alone, he thinks. Just leave this alone.] I didn't understand anything else. What I felt, I didn't understand it. I had no idea...

[He's frowning. Outright, now, his mouth is downturned, and his eyebrows are beginning to knit. He's staring hard at the laundry, which he grasps to his chest like a shield. His expression, though, is directed entirely at himself.

Like a plea, a quiet one, he says,] I'm keeping things from him. There's too much. Let's just do the laundry, Shikinami-san.

What are you keeping from him?

[Unlike her, everything he feels doesn't get instantly broadcast on his face. She has to watch and attempt to interpret. She's not great at it. All she knows is that she has to be getting somewhere, like a screw getting twisted into a block of wood.]

I don't care about the laundry. What are you keeping from him?

Why do you want to know? [He is sawdust. His mouth is full of sawdust. These things are secret for a reason. It's like he said: There's too much. Kaworu didn't know that anyone but the Commander could make him feel this cornered.] So that you can hurt me with it later?

I--

[Asuka hesitates, eyes darting from the clothes to his face and then back again. Damn it, it's not that. For once, it's not that.] He's my friend, too.

[That, at least, Kaworu is sympathetic to. He exhales slowly, feeling so defenseless that not even a held breath can save him. It probably sounds like Kaworu has ulterior, undesirable motives. Maybe they could be considered that. Kaworu may be a child of fate, presenting himself as a friend on equal ground, but he can't boast about much more than the adults. They had a few months together. And, yeah, it was nice. But nice isn't enough. And he's just as secret and silent as the Commander.

His mouth twists.]

You must understand, [he says carefully,] that I've loved him for a very long time. I'm not trying to hurt him, if that's what you're worried about.

[But Kaworu is very aware that you can hurt someone without meaning to.]

[Asuka looks at the bed. She's not sure if she wants to sit on it. But it's not where he sleeps, anyway. The laundry isn't getting done any time soon, at least. She might as well. Sitting down, her throat tightens. She feels aggrieved. Wronged. I loved him, too. And I don't get anything out of it while you're around. It's petty. She's petty.]

You had, what, a couple months? [Not much longer than she'd had.] You can't say things like that. You can't say it's a long time.

[It's been just a little while. Longer than he's had at other points — sometimes he loves and dies all in less than twenty-four hours — but still just a little while. Shikinami can't know otherwise.

Shikinami can know otherwise, if he tells her.]

And what if it were?

[He doesn't want her to sit down. He wants her to stand up and leave. Walk away. Get onto her shuttle. Ferry herself back to her own ship. Stay there. Please, just leave him in peace. The way his face is begging for this is pathetic.]

I know how much time passed.

[He doesn't want to answer any of this. He sent her into a screaming, chair-breaking rage and he can't handle some of his own medicine. The lengths she'll go to in order to justify herself are abysmal, except the justification isn't working. As curious as she is, she still feels as if she's hollowing herself out at the same time she's driving that screw into him. Target sighted, target locked, but he doesn't look at all like an enemy right now. He hasn't exactly looked like an enemy--]

If you're going to tell me, tell me. If you're not, don't. We'll just go on like always.

[She's giving him an out. He doesn't have to say anything. He can shut his mouth right now, stop holding the laundry so tightly, and take her to the washing facilities. She can sit on top of the dryer and he can sit on top of the washer, or it can be the other way around. And he can smile sideways at her and ask her about herself.

What he wants to do, more than that, is leave the ship. Not to anywhere in particular; he just wants to go outside. Quiet and cold. He could curl up there. Floating, hushed. At peace. Only the stars would witness his exhaustion.

He doesn't take a breath.]

I'm asking you, [he says slowly,] what you would think if that were true.

How could it be true? You-- you can think it's been a long time all you want, if that makes you feel better, but it's not and--

[And suddenly, she wants to run, too. But she's no good at running. Every challenge has to be met head-on, like an ancient Spartan warrior, except she's just a pathetic waif wearing a battle uniform that's not necessary, hanging onto a crush that already passed her by. Her shoulders shake and she finds herself on the bed, sitting there, back ramrod-straight.]

[If it's true, she might as well give up right this second.]

Why are you telling me this?!

[Well, that settles it. Kaworu raises his chin, nearly rearing back, eyes a little more open. She's confirmed for him what was obvious from the start: he shouldn't be telling anyone these things. This much, barely the beginning of what he could say, and though he was just testing the waters, it's proven to be too much.] You asked. [He's quiet. He won't let her hear that this makes him upset; he doesn't even understand why he's upset. There should be nothing but relief at the opportunity to keep these things deep inside himself.

But saying what he did was a mistake. He couldn't keep his damned mouth shut. The worst parts of him wanted something out of this.]

We should stop here.

[Everything with a heart wants to be understood.]

No!

[Both hands are clutching the covers. Both hands are shaking as she uses them to propel herself up and off the bed. As much as she doesn't want his answer, she has to have it. He can't leave her on the precipice. Everybody else has kept things from her or deferred her. Everybody else. She's not even thinking of how this has been kept from Shinji. The only thing concerning her now is how much she's been wronged.]

[She scrambles to grab him by the collar. She couldn't hope to manhandle the truth out of him, she knows that, but she doesn't care. Her head hurts and her eye hurts, and the laundry looks downright laughable now.]

You'll tell me exactly what's going on. You'll tell me right now.

[You'd never be able to tell that Kaworu can wield something as fearsome as the A.T. Field. He looks like a defenseless kid right now. When Asuka jolts up, he drops the laundry. It scatters in between their feet. He makes it seem like it matters at all, how strong she is...

But he doesn't waver. He doesn't look as scared of her as he is. When he brings one of his hands up, it's not to push her away or help himself. It's to lay his fingers over hers. The action has a weird tenderness to it, the dangerous sort. Kaworu can remember someone grabbing at him and threatening to hit him. And he would have been fine with that; all he wanted was to be closer and closer. Any sort of contact. Shikinami's fierceness is nostalgic for that reason. They're breathing close to each other. Neither of them are gloved, and so their hands are touching for real. Kaworu can remember someone threatening to hit him, and he would have been fine with that. Kaworu can remember a lot.]

Can you keep a secret?

[Asuka kicks the laundry away with her foot. She's not out to hurt him, no matter how aggressive her movements. She knows she can't hurt him. When he touches her fingers, she freezes up, expression momentarily as frightened as a rabbit's, don't touch me written all across her pale face. Nobody touches her. Nobody wants to touch her.]

[Then that look starts to fade as the question hits her. He's going to talk. The only question is whether or not she can stomach it. Her grip falters but doesn't yet drop.]

I won't tell him.

[Then, it's a promise. Maybe he's too trusting, but Kaworu's taking Asuka at her word. He exhales, very slowly so that the breath won't tremble. And, to ready himself, he shuts his eyes. Maybe he can pretend she's the tree he tended to. That wood heard everything. It grew up with his secrets. He's still touching her; he'll make believe that her skin is a green leaf. So, when he starts to talk, his eyes are still closed.]

The only thing I want is for him to be happy. You know that, right? But every time I think I'm close to achieving that, something happens. I make a mistake. It's the same mistake I made this last time. It's always that mistake. Different circumstances, maybe, but always the same outcome. But in those final moments, I tell myself, 'It's all right.' That I can try again. And I do, every time. I do try again. Because the only thing I want is for him to be happy.

[Trying to envision her as the tree isn't working. She's smooth, not waxy or rough like leaves or bark. There's no breeze swishing through branches. And her scent is different, too...

He opens his eyes, sees her, and it stings. He feels weak, inadequate, inert. The exhaustion in his eyes must look like something she can touch.]

But, Shikinami-san, it doesn't work. It never works. No matter what I do...

I've been trying and trying. But you can't tell him. I've already hurt him so many times, more than I realized. It doesn't matter that I've done these things. I just need it to work.

The same mistake?

[This is the most words at once that he's ever said to her. The most words at once that she's listened to in a long time. She wants to just stop breathing, at least, assert some control, but she can't. Contamination, spreading contamination, turned that into not much more than a nervous tic. Him and his ilk, they've ruined her life. They're still ruining it.]

[The information feels like it's beading up on her skin instead of being absorbed. She deals in specifics, always specifics, and still, he's being so vague. The same mistake. What mistake? Final mom--]

That's why you didn't care. About being dead, that's why you--

[Asuka can barely look him in the face, is struggling hard to look him in the eyes, crimson and miserable. Stop touching me. Let go of me. Get away from me. They go unsaid because they're not meant. Despite everything, they're not meant.]

Why him? [Her voice sounds pitifully small.] Why does it have to be him? [She can't ask what she really wants to, as if all her strength had exhausted itself just hanging onto his collar. But it's because she's scared she already knows the answer. She's out. There's no place for her here. Not even a spot she can carve out herself. She lost out on Shinji before she knew who he was.]

[video] we'll turn the moon to blood

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