mk.04 (text)

[paraclete]

Who: Kaworu Nagisa and anyone who has the time to read his super boring blogpost (or anyone who's having tech troubles?!)
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: N/A
When: 6/6

I did something recently, and I was reminded of how enjoyable it is. So: you can let me know if you're trying to repair or operate any electronics, and I can help. :)

It led me to something interesting, though. Fleet, I'm wondering: can you trace the lines of your special course back to one outstanding event? There are many things which contribute to the quality and experience of a person's life -- first love, rebellion against authority, the realization of goals; death and loss, apathy then grief; the stunning circumstances surrounding a birth. But maybe there's a day that prophesied your fate, and it could be that, at the time, you had no idea an extraordinary event was happening. That's how it happened for me. I couldn't have known that the day of one person's birth was enough to present me with purpose. It would take some time for me to realize that. It's a joy to know that this one event which was predestined for me is something to be celebrated. What about you? The moment that stands out to you as fate's hand, did you know right away that it would change your life? Or were you blindsided?

Now, while I'm thinking of all that... I'd like to request something of Ikari Shinji-kun.

Comments

[astrobleme]

[Shinji should be grateful, period. He should be very grateful that anyone would decide that today is a day worthy of celebration. But he's having trouble seeing past all those years he spent sitting beside the phone, waiting for a call that never came. A call that will never come. Disappointment like that is strong enough to penetrate a black hole.]

Yeah, I can do that. I will.

Should I bring anything with me?

[paraclete]

[Thanks in part to his preachy post, how Kaworu feels about Shinji's birthday is unambiguous... But he knows there's no way to make up for the years he couldn't be there to share his joy with Shinji. From the start, Shinji should have been able to feel that the day of his birth was a wonderful occasion. He should have been able to feel that the start of his life made people happy. This is the first time, ever, that Kaworu's been able to express this sort of celebration. It's years late, and he knows that.]

You're all I need to make this perfect.

The door will be closed when you get here, but definitely come in!

[He's been preparing for this, so it's easy to set up the room the rest of the way. He wishes he could have gotten a wealth of flowers... But the plain decor and slight clutter of his bunk are the only backdrop he has right now. Since that's not the focus of this event, it should be fine...

Whenever Shinji shows up, there will be more than knowledge or gut instinct to indicate Kaworu's place. Even before Shinji arrives, there's music fluttering down the corridor. It's definitely no grand piano — the notes sound a little tinny — but it couldn't be a recording, either... It will sound too familiar to Shinji for that.]

[astrobleme]

Be there soon.

[Shinji takes the time to wash his face, brush his hair, and choose an outfit that doesn't make him look like a degenerate (khaki pants, black shirt with a collar, a touch of personal anguish). On the shuttle to the Vanquish, he tries not to cry. It's a very near thing, but he looks out at the stars and they help him to calm down. These stars might not be his stars, but they're no less brilliant and unchanging for it.

He's fewer than a dozen steps into Kaworu's ship when he hears the music. It doesn't halt him completely, but he slows down, dragging his feet a little. He wonders if that is what he thinks it is, or if his birthday invited in some auditory hallucinations. Once he reaches Kaworu's room, he can't go another step. He just braces himself against the wall, one hand shielding his eyes, not making a sound. He's listening to that familiar, heart-clutching refrain. That's definitely Kaworu playing in there-- A while ago, Shinji said he could tell how Kaworu was feeling by the way he played piano. Shinji could tell when something bad was bothering his best friend, but all he hears right now is unfathomable joy. Kaworu is playing this beautifully for him, because of him...

Kaworu told him to come in, but Shinji has no desire to interrupt. He waits until the piece is winding down before he opens the door a slight, slight amount to peer inside.]

Kaworu-kun?

[His voice is slight, too. It's a sliver of hope that doesn't belong on his birthday.]

[paraclete]

[Kaworu can feel that hesitation, you know. Shinji's soul is impossible to ignore, and it's only Kaworu's deeply cultivated willpower that keeps him able to focus on his playing. But he can feel that Shinji lingers just outside, and so he tries to beckon musically: come in, come in. Yeah, his playing is joyous. It's got the spirit of the Messiah oratorio. Even when his final notes are ringing out, he's putting all of his heart into it.]

Hi, [he says finally, and he sounds like the delighted new friend from the first day they met. He's wearing black pants and pretty normal shirt — though, it's probably the only article of clothing he owns that's so red. His colorful watch might clash with it slightly, but as usual, he thinks it's the best part of his outfit. The real winner here, though, is the thorough look of adoration on his face. It practically makes him look fevered.] Come inside and look, you can't see it well from there. But at least you can hear that it works...

["It" turns out to be an electric keyboard. It's far from brand new, clearly secondhand at best, but it plays like it's in great condition, and Kaworu had made an effort to polish the keys. He's got it set up at the side of his bed, where he's sitting, radiant but almost apprehensive. (He really, really wants Shinji to like it.)]

I'm only borrowing it — it's especially for you. But I wanted to play you a song. [He's not playing any more notes, but his fingers are still poised on the keys.]

[astrobleme]

[If his voice is a crescent, then his eyes are full moons, almost aglow in the light of the hallway behind him. It wouldn't be wrong to say that what he sees is enough to shock him. Except, in retrospect, he should have seen this coming since forever ago. There's very little that interests Ikari Shinji outside of the hobbies he's cultivating in an attempt to distract himself from the futility of existence and all it contains. Playing the piano is like astronomy in that it's too personal, too special to him; he can't really express just how much he loves it. Of course Kaworu would hone in on what Shinji loves and give that to him with all the good will to back it up.

Shinji pushes open the door the rest of the way, taking the first step inside. He has that fragile stance and tottering momentum of a newborn deer, like he could fall over at any moment. Brighter than the lunar highlands, his eyes roam over the electronic keyboard and take in the beauty of a full fifty-two keys. This thing could be made of paper and foam rubber for all he cares, as long as it works.]

This is for me? You were playing for me?

[These are the things he already knows, but they're being repeated out loud, in a voice that cracks at the end with emotion. He doesn't know what his face is trying to do, only that it must be smiling to a ridiculous degree. His cheeks hurt and his lips are too dry with all the moisture migrating to his eyes.]

Kaworu-kun thinks I deserve something as good as this...?

[paraclete]

[That's enough to break a heart. Kaworu's got nothing if not fortitude, at least in some skewed way, but how is he supposed to withstand that sort of question? "As good as this," like it's anywhere close to being exactly as wonderful as what Shinji deserves. This is a fraction. It's a sample of dust from the very surface of a planet that's barely been explored. Shinji can't tell that he should have the entire globe — the entire solar system... Kaworu wants so badly to give him clarity. How do you explain something colorful to a blind man? How do you explain adoration to a person who's only been fed by rejection?

When he smiles at Shinji, soft even in the ship's unnatural light, Kaworu thinks he's never seen anything so beautiful as this emotional boy.]

I've always been playing for you. Every song I've ever played has been for you, Shinji-kun. Even if you couldn't hear them yet. [He's starry; his boundless love is making him shimmer. He really wants to glow.] But this song is for today. Your birthday has given me a good thing; of course you should have good things, too.

[Now he withdraws his hands from the keys, and stands up from the bed — carefully, so that he can slide through the space between the bed and the keyboard. Then he's crossing to Shinji, and he finds one of Shinji's warm hands with his own. At a lower volume, a closer intimacy, and in a voice heavy with gratitude, Kaworu says,] Happy birthday. I couldn't be more thankful for you.

[astrobleme]

[It doesn't make sense to Shinji. It really doesn't make any sense to him when he thinks about how much this person looks up to him, idolizes him, treats him like a precious element that only exists on one meteor in the entire universe. He used to wish for a knight in shining armor--just someone who would rescue him from his guardian's place, his father's judgment. Someone who would run away with him on all kinds of fun adventures. In reality, though, such a person, such an ideal, a sometimes frightening ideal, shouldn't be able to exist. Shinji doesn't understand how such a person can exist for real.

If Nagisa Kaworu were in love with someone else, someone who's genuinely good, maybe it would make more sense. But he has fallen head over heels for someone whose greatest daily accomplishment is tying his own shoelaces. Even then, the shoelaces tend to be a little messy, crooked, in need of a redo, which is how they are right now. As Kaworu approaches him, he's more and more hyper-aware of his flaws and mistakes, including his stupid crooked shoelaces.]

Kaworu-kun...

[But maybe because it's his birthday, there's a groundswell of something other than confusion and self-hatred. It can't be gratitude--it's too deep for that, even though he's grateful, too. It's an emotion that makes him want to take Kaworu someplace very dark, very quiet, with only the two of them. They would never have to leave each other again.]

Kaworu-kun.

[It shouldn't be this hard to say "thank you," but he can't seem to move on from the opulence of saying Kaworu's name and watching him sparkle. Now they're holding hands, and Shinji is looking at his face intently, smiling uncontrollably. Kaworu has cool hands, maybe unusually cool hands, all smooth and perfect, like a doorknob left to sit at room temperature. He's the doorway to good things, that's what he is. It's through him that Shinji can be anything other than a worthless wreck.]

Kaworu-kun-- [Even as he says that again, he begins to cry. Hot and fast, the tears slide down and invade his mouth while he clutches Kaworu's hand as tightly as he can.] Kaworu-kun, I d-don't know how I'm supposed to repay you.