002. text + action.

[astrobleme]

Who: Shinji Ikari and you?!
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: SS Heron.
When: 3/12.

[network.]

[Shinji rewrites this about a dozen times before he finally decides to post it. It reads:]

Hello. My name is Shinji Ikari. I'm a pilot that's stationed on the Heron. I'm sorry if I'm not using the network as it's intended, but I don't know how else to distribute this message. I've been a member of the Fleet for over a month now and I've met quite a lot of people who have treated me well. It's something I wasn't expecting at all. I haven't been in the best frame of mind, but people have gone out of their way to reassure me, offer to help me, or just talk to me. That's something else I wasn't expecting. I don't know why anyone bothers to talk to someone like me.

The point of this message is to say that I'm grateful. I'd like to thank all of those people, and repay them, if at all possible. I don't know some of their names or contact information, though. I do have an easier time of thanking my crew - I'm doing that now - thank you, everyone, for putting up with me. And hello to anyone who's newly assigned. Anyway, I'm on the Heron, like I said, and I have small tokens of my appreciation to give out if people want them. I'll be in the cargo bay all day by the gym equipment. Although it's kind of pathetic, a single conversation is enough to qualify for this. (Talking to people is helping my ratings...)

Kaworu-kun and Asuka, I have things to give you too. I know it's a little early for White Day.

Unrelated question: Is it possible to delete any content that's posted to the network? I'm guessing not, but maybe I missed an option for that.

Thank you for your time.


[action, aboard the Heron.]

[Shinji can be found sitting in the cargo bay, on a stretching mat, nearest to the gym equipment. He's young-looking and more than a little sleepless, wondering if he shouldn't have made that embarrassing post. He's in the middle of nervously, repeatedly digging his fingers into a netted bag of colorful marbles that he won from the arcade on the Starlight. They're beautiful glass marbles, each crafted to resemble a foreign galaxy.

This isn't much of a gift, but he hopes it isn't a stupid one.

He looks up whenever he has a new visitor. Before he says anything, he pauses his music player and takes out at least one of his earbuds.]

Hey.

Comments

[astrobleme]

Yeah. They're nice. [Colors. Shinji didn't think much of colors for a long time.] I'm glad you like it, Kaworu-kun. It's perfect for you. [Stars will shine in different colors depending on their age, but the colors themselves hardly mattered. His world was most vivid as a series of white corridors, the orange-red of LCL, the rainbow of an Angel when it was defeated. The rest just didn't matter.

But then he stayed outside with Kaworu, under the stars, overnight. They stayed out there until dawn broke into the sky. That was the first time Shinji really noticed the colors of dawn as they cycled through black and gold and blue and a hint of green that reminded him of fresh moss. He paid very close attention to every color in an effort to memorize and immortalize their time together. Kaworu's hair looked amazing with golden light filtering through it. He was warm and fuzzy at the edges, like one of those effulgent, religious angels, the ones from the old paintings.

The cargo bay has sterile fluorescent lighting that's no good for artwork. Regardless, Kaworu is a living masterpiece.]

So, that... the thing I need to tell you...

[Hours of practice. Hours and hours. All for him to say one thing.]

I...

[...]

I got a job.

[There's a pause, and then the shock sets in swiftly. He's choking. He is actually choking. In a meandering, nerveless mumble, he says,] It's not a real job, but I volunteered to do something with myself. On the Iskaulit, that big communal ship, I found this garden and I asked if I could help out. You said--I mean, you mentioned your tree, uhm, missing your tree? I think you said that somewhere. The plants in the garden might not be... a total... substitute... but...

[He very abruptly winds down to nothing. His face crumples up.]

That's not what I meant to say, at all...

[paraclete]

[As Shinji speaks, as Shinji flounders, Kaworu continues to hold his hand. He smiles like the wing of a bird, sleek and at ease in the air. He's the feathers of a dove, but with Shinji's gift and Shinji's sweetness, Kaworu carries himself like a macaw. He seems somehow vibrant.]

I think that's amazing, [he says with sincerity. To him, it's something that genuinely deserves awe, praise, and love. He offers those things with open hands and a smile that reaches his eyes, warm and red like a beating heart.] A garden is good. And you like to be able to help. This is a wonderful thing. Sometime, while you're working there, I'd like to visit you. You can introduce me to the plants.

[He's patient, a mother in the night with a child who can't sleep. Nothing about him suggests that he's anything other than happy to listen to Shinji talk. As Shinji's expression breaks, Kaworu guides his thumb along the ridge of Shinji's knuckles reassuringly. It's a little gesture, but it says, It's fine.

Gently, he asks,] What did you mean to say?

[astrobleme]

[Shinji tries to nod in agreement--of course Kaworu can come visit him--of course--that's the whole point--but his head wobbles sadly on its axis. He screwed up. All that practice, the perfect moment, and he fucked it up. He should be thankful that fucking up here didn't hurt Kaworu. He should be thankful that Kaworu is allowing him to try again.]

Mmn.

[He should be thankful that speaking his mind, his heart, is the greatest hardship he's had since coming here. And what he meant to say isn't something he should be saying to the floor, or his knees, or their joined hands. Not to Kaworu's colorful watch. Grueling though it is, Shinji forces his gaze uphill, all the way up, until he's looking at Kaworu's face again. He can't be perfect. He can't even be competent. But he owes it to Kaworu to say it when they're making sincere eye contact.]

I meant to say...

[There are times when, looking into Kaworu's eyes, all he can see is the color of blood. That isn't the case right now. Thankfully. Right now, Kaworu's eyes are just Kaworu's eyes, more like rubies than a world-ending emergency.

And, unbelievably, Shinji can feel himself smile.]

I love you, Kaworu-kun.

[paraclete]

[Kaworu would be as a pearl, white and smooth but for those rubies, except his radiance is greater than any precious stone. A jeweler would covet him, set him in a platinum band. He'd be settled in black velvet. He'd be presented as a lavish token of affection.

Affection is what makes him glow right now. That's not literal — not this time, at least. He isn't shining with actual starlight or Angelic atmosphere. But the luminosity of his features neglects the fluorescent glare of the cargo bay. Impossibly, he looks good in this lighting. In fact...

Kaworu has heard that a person looks their prettiest when they are in love. He's also read a counter to that: it said that a person never looks so beautiful as when they are loved. It's up to an onlooker, whichever one is true, but it's at least accurate to say that Shinji's confession has fashioned Kaworu's face into something new and special. Kaworu's never seemed discontent with his position in orbit around Shinji, but now he looks gifted, like Shinji's presented him with more than pearls and rubies. He's looking into Shinji's eyes. The two of them together are eras of oceans; Kaworu is the modern day, bloody and ruined and somehow still shining, but Shinji is something before his own time, overflowing with life. Part of Kaworu wants to say, I've seen it! I've seen what that sort of ocean is like! And you are nothing like it; you're so much better... But more of him is afraid of the consequences. This time, he doesn't know exactly what he should say. Except— ] I love you, too.

[A pearl in the world after Second Impact was worth a fortune. You couldn't get them from the sea anymore. Oyster farms dwindled really badly after so many catastrophic events. So their rarity was great... But the last natural pearl in the world couldn't smile like Kaworu does now. The most flawless of rubies weren't composed of an abundance of joy and adoration. Kaworu's never been able to give Shinji a real gemstone. All he has to offer is the greatest extent of his abilities.

He's been afraid for some time that that amounts to less than a pretty rock.]

That means very much to me. [His words are as inadequate as his last attempt at life. He squeezes Shinji's hand, and tries again.] Hearing that is more than I could ever ask from you. When you shared the stars with me, I didn't know if I'd see anything more wonderful... [His fingers slacken, but not completely. He's still holding Shinji's hand like a buttercup does dew.] But your face right now really is more wonderful than all of that.

[astrobleme]

[Kaworu is a clutch of pearls, shining and earnest, and Shinji could be a pile of driftwood for how rickety he feels.] You're so patient with me, [he says on a breath that's as unsettled as a slipstream.] I should have said that... months ago... months and months ago... [There's a real suggestion that he could cry, just burst into tears, even though his eyes are remarkably clear. He's smiling wider, but he's having trouble breathing--remembering how to breathe when Kaworu is this beautiful. As long as he's still breathing, he tells himself, he's still human enough to need to breathe. He has to tell himself that because he would rather suffocate in Kaworu's blood than live without him.

Something inside Shinji's heart broke apart the day Kaworu died. He thought Kaworu was virtually indestructible, like a diamond, not a pearl. He thought Kaworu was like 55 Cancri e with its endless compressed and heat-tested carbon fields. He fell in love with that perfect consistency--Kaworu never seemed to make mistakes. Kaworu didn't hesitate or stumble over his words like Shinji tended to. Kaworu played the piano like he was born doing it and had studied the human condition backwards and forwards. Even when Kaworu didn't know something--Andromeda's distance, or the math behind a light-year--he soaked up that information quickly enough. But then Kaworu proved himself imperfect by dying in a tempest of blood. He died and he took a piece of Shinji's heart with him, a piece that can never be returned or replaced.

But the days and nights they've spent here with each other have acted as glue, as sutures, putting Shinji into some approximation of back together. It wasn't a clean break, and it isn't a clean heal, but he's a lot better off than he was just a week ago. For all his stress fractures, he realized yet again that he's in love with Nagisa Kaworu.]

I was a coward for not saying it earlier.