[video] we'll turn the moon to blood

[interstices]

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.

Comments

[paraclete]

[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.]

[interstices]

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.

[paraclete]

[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?

[interstices]

[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.

[paraclete]

[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.

[interstices]

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.]

[paraclete]

[He's not trying to scare her. He never wants to scare anyone. It always happens anyway; they wear gloves, they fashion collars. Charts, experiments, cautionary tales. But he never wants to scare anyone. So when he looks at her, still touching her hand, there's great sympathy in his eyes and the curve of his mouth. It's a sympathy he's felt a thousand times over. No matter what happened to her, despite what his kin did, she started out with a human heart.]

Everything I am, I owe to him. [Shinji defines him. Kaworu will always be a child of fate, but he was so young once.] I want to repay him. I haven't been able to do it, though. Every time, he gives me something new, and I haven't been able to do anything in return.

[He's not trying to scare her. He never wants to scare anyone. And, he's scared, too.]

But what if you're the one who can do what I couldn't?

[Voicing that fear feels so much worse than telling any of his other secrets.]

[interstices]

I can't. I can't make anybody happy.

[He's happy when he's with you. But if that were true, if that were really true, Nagisa wouldn't be telling her any of this. What the Angel wants for Shinji is completely impossible. Nobody stays happy. Probably nobody is happy. The closest she ever got was piloting in the before days, or maybe for a few minutes on that one outing, with Shinji and Ayanami. Yeah, if she'd let herself, she would've been happy for a little bit then.]

Shinji doesn't like me.

[There. Fully flattened. Admitting defeat without dragging her heels. She's the worst, grabbing onto Shinji like he were a lifeguard out in oceans she's never seen, when the truth is that he's no help at all. They'll just both sink--]

If you keep coming back. If he gives you something new-- you're telling me things change every time. I'm right, aren't I? [Asuka's not sure where she's going with this. She's not prepared to say this really is some cosmic plan, however much what he's revealed confirms it.] You thought this was going to be an opportunity.

[paraclete]

[Maybe once, a long time ago, Kaworu would have been content with just seeing Shinji's smile. The first thing Kaworu ever loved was a sour face, earthy eyes, angry and anguished... Just smile. And then, Just be happy. And then happiness became a concept too pure and of such great gravity that it couldn't be real. Kaworu has seen Shinji's smile, but Kaworu has never seen success. His goals have become lofty beyond their roots. He has to do better than some passing smiles and a few hours of fun. A blush is beautiful, but it isn't enough.

But Kaworu looks at Asuka and he sees someone who hasn't screwed up as badly as he has. She's made her mistakes, but none so... gratuitous... Maybe, all this time, Kaworu has been inherently unfit. No, no, he thinks. Underneath the softness of his face, his jaw clenches for a couple of seconds. Yeah, an opportunity.]

I thought I could use this time to rectify my mistakes. But it was different to face him after my failure. [He's not calling it what it is. It's still hard to assign consequences to the word 'death'.] Usually, when I try again, he has no knowledge of what happened before. This time... Things are so different, I don't know what to expect. There's too much I can't account for. But you're not in that situation. You don't need a plan. [Something is blooming into his thoughts like a spread of dye through milk. Kaworu hasn't been able to accomplish this. Shikinami says that she can't make anybody happy. But what if they're able to fill in each other's holes? If they can each provide what the other lacks? And then, together, they can be enough. If they can both put everything aside, shed their pride... Maybe they can both lift Shinji up higher.

It doesn't sound easy. And it doesn't taste good. But as much as Kaworu wants to be selfish, he can't afford that. His options are few enough that he can't be particular. You said you'd do anything, he reminds himself. He has to look at Shikinami as a boon rather than an interloper.]

He likes you. [Kaworu just barely manages to sand down the edges of these words before he says them. He has to do at least that much, if he's going to make this work.] You're his friend, as you said. Friends like each other? [Yes, that's a question. Something tentative, like he may be misunderstanding a cultural detail. But he's pretty sure that's true in every case.]

[interstices]

[Even when she's trying to be forthright with him, even when she thinks she's giving Shinji up and over to him, her gut's roiling in protest. She can't bear letting go of Shinji, as if he were ever hers to begin with. He felt like hers, which was all that mattered. He should have been hers.]

[But if Nagisa's repetition is any basis, maybe Shinji hasn't been his, either. That's not a good thought and not exactly a comfort, but it's also something she can't sabotage herself out of. Slowly, almost shakily, she drops his collar, pulling away from the touch of his hand. It doesn't feel good to get away, her eye still throbbing slightly in twisted recognition. He's warm for what he is. Maybe warmer than a human being, maybe colder; God, she wouldn't know.]

Friends... like each other. [It feels like tossing dirt on a casket. It's not what she meant to say. She meant to explain. Admit. She doesn't want just friendship any more than Nagisa does, only unlike him, she can't hold want at any further distance than arm's length. Asuka's always undoing her own progress. She swallows a watery clot of spit. In a better humor, she'd ask more, be more. At least ask if she's in the repeats, or if it's a varied cast, like a nightmare or a Hollywood epic, with only two of the same participants. She's afraid to know if she's a freak accident in more ways than she's already aware of. Her head's inclined slightly as she takes a step back, then another.]

You're asking for a truce.