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

[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.]