005. video + action.

[astrobleme]

Who: Shinji Ikari and you?!
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: On the Heron. If any of Shinji's crew members want their own costume (see below), feel free to claim one.
When: Right around now.

[network.]

[Where the heck is that music coming from?

Unaware that he's being filmed, Shinji wanders into the cargo bay of the Heron, following the muddled melody that's been plaguing him for a few minutes now. He stops dead in his tracks when he comes across--that. That rather large cardboard box with his name clearly plastered on the side. The music seems to be emanating from inside, on a loop.]

Well, that's not ominous at all, [he says dryly.

There's a large blue card attached to the top, which he steps up to and plucks off. As he reads from it, the messages inside flash across the video feed:]

- Shinji Ikari, you're not being true to yourself.
- There's something you've been hiding from everyone around you.
- But it's all right: we understand, and we want to help you.
- This should allow you get in touch with your inner desires.
- Your new life starts now! And don't forget to bring your friends!
- Brought to you by your sponsor: Made Fur You Incorporated.

[All of the sudden, the cardboard box falls to pieces, revealing a bunch of smaller boxes, each with preview pictures and labels stamped on the front. Kaworu: Arctic Fox Costume tumbles on top of Shinji: Azure Moth Costume, and both of those bounce around Asuka: Brown Cow Costume. There are additional costumes for members of the Heron crew, even.]

Oh, come on. I've been waiting more than a year for a sponsor, and this is what I get?

[Shinji sighs to himself, disappointed, and that's when he notices he's already broadcasting to the Fleet's network. God damn it.]

H-Hey! I don't want any of this stuff! Seriously! How do I send it back?

Comments

[astrobleme]

[Only Nagisa Kaworu could make this insanity out to be something reasonable. Also, Shinji's face feels like it's going to burst into flames.]

But I don't want to find out about moths! I don't even like moths. This sponsor must have mistaken me for somebody else in the Fleet and--

[Unfortunately, Shinji's embarrassed rambling ends up sounding more incriminating than not.]

[paraclete]

I like moths.

[It's a direct statement, cutting clean into the protests. Most other situations would have Kaworu proclaiming that moths are "nice", his word choice encouraging but tepid, and yet...

He settles his chin against a hand.]

What do you want to find out about?

[astrobleme]

[Shinji pauses in his blabbering, maybe a little thrown off.]

You like everything, though...

[He would be willing to bet that Kaworu could look at a radioactive lizard and still find something admirable about it. In any case, the irritation is already leaving him: he's deflating, little by little, with his gaze angled elsewhere.]

I don't know. Not moths. I haven't really given any thought to bugs--they're just kind of there, and annoying. I got stung by a bee once and that was bad enough.

[paraclete]

Sounds exciting. [These words are on the edge of laughter—not mocking, never mocking, but fond instead. Kaworu is looking at Shinji's image like he can see him in person (meaning, like he wants to touch Shinji's face).] They're remarkable creatures, bees. And moths. Oh, and mosquitoes. But their lives may seem to encroach on the life of the average individual, and that doesn't feel good, does it?

[He manages to sound sympathetic, for insects or for Shinji or for both... Maybe both. Leaning toward Shinji, naturally.

He still sounds fond when he asks this question:] You think I like everything?

[astrobleme]

Mosquitoes... [Shinji briefly sticks out his tongue to show his distaste.] Just don't even think about praising cockroaches, Kaworu-kun. I wouldn't be able to stomach that. [It's probably a goddamn miracle that Misato's apartment wasn't infested with cockroaches after how poorly she treated it. If he didn't stay on top of things, there'd be piles and piles of garbage everywhere...

Misato-san.

When was the last time he thought about her at all? More than a year later, and... he can't even begin to imagne what she's doing now. It makes his chest kind of hurt.

He glances back at the screen. As per usual, Kaworu has a way of looking at him that almost feels like a caress. It makes the distance between them all the more obvious.]

I know what you like, but not what you dislike, not really.

[paraclete]

[There is much Kaworu could say about the fortitude of the cockroach, among other desirable qualities, but...] Anything for you, Shinji-kun. [His smile is closer to a grin, right now.

It stays that way, though softened at its edge, when he tilts his head. His hair falls to the side when he does that.]

It's not very interesting, [he explains—or it could be an excuse.] So I didn't say anything.

[astrobleme]

[Shinji's eyes--they're red right now, but he kept them a clear blue all morning--narrow the slightest amount. It should be impossible for somebody to be that attractive. Also, it seems he's stumbled across something even more important.]

When did I say I wasn't interested?

[He speaks softly, yeah, but there's a real persistence to his words--getting to the heart of the matter. Even though Kaworu knows him best of all, that doesn't stop Kaworu from assuming things incorrectly.]

[paraclete]

[At first, Kaworu parts his lips—then he immediately closes his mouth again. He'd had a deflection prepared without even realizing it; it was crouching on his tongue, having crawled into his mouth at the behest of Kaworu's ingrained habits. But Shinji is trying, you know. He is and has been trying hard to connect with Kaworu in a way neither of them are used to. Kaworu has noticed that.

... He passes his fingers over his own mouth before he says anything. Permission, perhaps, for this gate to open. And shunting his stubbornness off to the side, too.]

Rubbing alcohol, and tucking the sheets into the bed. Just things like that.

[astrobleme]

[Okay, well. Shinji can't say he's surprised about the sheets part. To be fair, Kaworu isn't a total slob or anything, but his room will end up looking like a hoarder's dream without Shinji there to sort things out. It's an endearing trait as much as it is exasperating.

Rubbing alcohol, though...]

I don't like rubbing alcohol, either. The smell, and just... [He looks down at his empty hand, out of frame. He was very sick as a child. Something wrong with his blood. Supposedly. Now it's easy to see how that was just a bullshit cover story.] It reminds me of getting shots with these really long needles... Only a crazy person would like needles, right? That's what I think.

[paraclete]

[The thin breath Kaworu takes is at first meant for something philosphical—the vast desires of humankind, the differences from one man to another, something something... It dies in his mouth, for once. Instead:]

I also don't like them.

[Blunt statement, and a straightforward fact about himself. Still, it hangs in the air. They didn't bother with a cover story for Kaworu.

He's watching Shinji on screen, which helps. So...]

I don't like stories in which two lovers are eternally parted. [That admittance is almost embarrassing, and he's quick to add,] A love shared even briefly is meaningful, and wonderful, and the creation of any story is a gift unto its reader. But when they're apart, I... [And the falter is just as embarrassing. He ducks his head just slightly.] It weighs on me.

[astrobleme]

[It's right around now that the guilt is starting to seep back into Shinji. Even though he wants to know more about Kaworu, that doesn't mean he deserves to know. He isn't entitled to hear about the things that make Kaworu feel uncomfortable. Out of the corner of his eye, it's still interesting for him to watch how Kaworu's face changes from one moment to the next, speaking of star-crossed lovers...]

Yeah. I don't like unhappy endings.

[He makes eye contact again, and it's less satisfying than when they're really together. Maybe Kaworu feels the same way. Maybe they're both hopeless romantics, which brings a small, self-aware smile to his face.]

But the thing about an unhappy ending is that, if you don't like it, you can just change it around in your head. There's no rule that says you can't. So that's... [He's getting quieter, almost like he's confessing something.] That's how I try to deal with it. Those two lovers will find each other again, because I say they will.

[paraclete]

[Shinji never needs to boast much volume in order for Kaworu to hear him. Shinji could be whispering, and it would echo all throughout the hall of Kaworu's heart. Regardless, Kaworu is leaning forward. He's nearer and nearer to his own grasp on the communicator, as if he could reach through the little screen and hold Shinji's face or kiss it.

He's absolutely rapt. His eyes are big and full. His mouth wants to convey an awful lot, but he's tucking most of those things behind his teeth as best he can. What Shinji needs to know is this:]

If you say it will happen, I'll believe it.

[That trust he so desired from Shinji—it goes both ways.]

[astrobleme]

[Ah, Kaworu is...

Intense.

He's treating this stuff way more seriously than it deserves to be treated. For a moment, Shinji can only stare at Kaworu, his own eyes a little wider than before. The unrelenting sort of faith that Kaworu has in him is still, in his opinion, badly misplaced.]

If... If it'll make you feel better, go ahead and believe it. But there are lots of other stories that end happily ever after, you know. I bet there are actually more happy stories than sad ones... [...] It's the stories with ambiguous endings that I don't like at all. I want to know what happens. I want-- [He's embarrassed with himself, in part due to Kaworu's scrutiny, but he says it anyway:] Closure. One way or another.

[paraclete]

[Kaworu's countenance holds all of that same faith. He's brimming with belief. While he looks at Shinji's picture, Kaworu is full, to his lips and his eyes, of devotion, and a special gratitude. If he didn't believe in Shinji, he wouldn't have anything to believe in at all.]

A happy ending, for you. [He's quiet, composed, but these words are made of sturdy steel, even as warm as they are.] And closure, if you want it. Everything you like best out of stories. Sounds good.

[It's a promise. He doesn't voice that to the letter, but there's no denying what it is.]