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]

[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.