[& its all just a matter of time]

Tue, 29 Dec 2009 03:42:22 GMT

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 02:44:12 GMT

The How's My Driving? Meme

I'll take anything, seriously. Any feedback would benefit.

[I did everything for you.]

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 19:55:52 GMT

character: Kaworu Nagisa (17) [eschatologist]
series: Neon Genesis Evangelion
muse strength: ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ → He drives out every other muse I have ever had, if that's any indication. He doesn't even mean to, I think. He just. Does. I get nervous with him from time to time, but my OCD's always a kick in the ass when it comes to everything I do. I think any worries I have right now will be resolved after the 28th. What can I say? I want to do a good job with this plot.
cast strength: ■ ■ □ □ □ → Asuka, Misato. We sort of got adopted into the P3 cast, however. Even so, I would absolutely murder for a Shinji and Rei.
plotting capabilities: ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ → I never run out of things to do with him. Ever. He's going to have an interesting experience of dying and regaining his memories. Also, the development of his PK and ultimately fluctuating empathy is going to drive up some interesting points, I'm sure. He gets to be human, as much as he can be. His redevelopment of his relationship with Asuka is also going to occur, so there's that. He'll have an interesting time of the next few months.
likelihood of drop: □ □ □ □ □ → LOLOLOL. YEAH, OKAY. Fuck that noise, man. Overcoming hardships is what I do. In general, our little cast has had so many problems thrown at them, but he's never wavered. He's staying, Hell or high water. WE BOTH ROLL WITH THE PUNCHES.

... lol, and you thought I had time for more than one muse.

[which shines around me like a million suns]

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 05:01:50 GMT

∞ the How's My Driving? meme ∞

Hit me with your best shot, loves. ♥

Voice Post

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 01:06:54 GMT

Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:16:56 GMT

【ANOTHER ANON MEME】

Go for it.

[you are pretty down to your bones]

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:29:16 GMT

Hey, all!

I just wanted to inform you that I've updated 63_seconds with an icon coloring tutorial. Do feel free to check it out if you haven't seen it already! I'll be aiming to make another icon update soon, if my current one I'm using isn't any indication that I'm steadily making more and more. ♥

Anyway, hope you enjoy it if you choose to mosey on over.

[I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity.]

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 23:43:30 GMT

ANON MEME

I could do with some honesty.

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 23:50:17 GMT

POKEMEME

Go for it. ♥

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 23:33:40 GMT

ANON MEME

Baderp, derp.

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 05:52:32 GMT

Pick twenty quotes from twenty movies. Have your friends identify them, with no help from IMBd or any other search engine. When they guess correctly, strike through the quote and place the title and the person who guessed it after it. ♥

This was so stolen from Sam.

I. ~~I finally get a bouquet and it's a goodbye present. That's depressing.~~ Spirited Away: sammywhatammy.

II. ~~Is that a kind of occupational hazard of soul mates? One's not much without the other?~~ What Dreams May Come: sammywhatammy.

III. ~~Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?~~ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: kat7077

IV. You're lucky to get four words out of them in English, but if you were to walk through the jungle, you'd hear them speaking the most elaborate French. Those parrots talk about everything. Politics, movies, fashion. Everything but religion. Big Fish: sammywhatammy.

V. I want you to get into the deep beautiful melancholy of everything that's happened.

VI. You know there's one major hole in your story, there is no fucking way on this planet, nor any other I would ever be in some fucking sorority.

VII. ~~No you fool, we're following orders. We were told to comb the desert so we're combing it.~~ Space Balls: sammywhatammy.

VIII. He was just all alone. He couldn't enjoy a game with anyone else. Like living in a dream... That's the kind of man he was...

IX. No man nor anything in this world lives forever. But only to us is it given to know that we must die. And that is a precious gift. This life that is our torment and our treasure does not endure. It is a wave on the sea. Would you force the sea to grow still, to save one wave? To save yourself?

X. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust! Oh... I'm feeling weak - with hunger!

XI. I'm impressed. For a moment there, I thought you were just a dumb hick who only has sex with farm animals.

XII. What speed do I have to live, to be able see you again?

XIII. That's the most boring goldfish I've ever seen in my entire life!

XIV. Wrong! Wrong! I specifically ordered you not to get carried away! Now I'm repulsive. I can't live like this.

XV. ~~These days, there are angry ghosts all around us. Dead from wars, sickness, starvation, and nobody cares. So - you say you're under a curse. So what, so's the whole damn world.~~ Princess Mononoke: sammywhatammy.

XVI. ~~If I told you I came from the future, would you laugh?~~ The Girl Who Leapt Through Time: kat7077

XVII. Reality is in an unfamiliar place, and dreams are within reality.

XVIII. Trees and people used to be good friends. I saw that tree and decided to buy the house.

XIX. ~~Killlllaaaahh, you're a lobster killllah!~~ Julie and Julia: kat7077

XX. ~~You'd think they'd never seen a girl and a cat on a broom before.~~ Kiki's Delivery Service: sammywhatammy.

[I'll love you forever.]

Mon, 24 Aug 2009 23:54:38 GMT

The How's My Driving? Meme

EDIT:

What do you do with them?
Write, draw, icon, and RP. You will never see my drawings of Kaworu, so please do not ask. I am not exactly, how you say, skilled enough with a pencil to be so daring as to post them online.

Do you feel close to them?
lol, yes. We're pretty much remarkably similar when it comes to various aspects of our personalities, so I'm often one of those folks who don't have to "argue" with their muses to get anything done at the end of the day.

Do you believe they're real?
Real? Well, no. Not in the sense I think they're out wandering the streets of Japan, but I feel as though I'm very much acquainted with him. He feels like, to me, someone you could bump into on the street, and just chat up for an hour or two. Then, all my characters, self-created or no, have become like real people to me. That's pretty much the secret to my passion. As a kid, I always had imaginary friends and a vivid imagination. So, I suppose this was only a natural progression.

Are any of them dating each other?
... lol, no. If you ask me about my OCs? Then, well. Sort of. You could call it a relationship at the end of the day, but it isn't a perfect one. Kaworu, however, is currently dating. I'm. Just not playing who it is he is dating.

Have any of them ever been killed?
Kaworu, a la canon, has indeed been killed. He came back, however.

Have you drawn them?
Yes.

What do they do for a living?
Kaworu is a student at Gekkoukan. He also currently assists in editing a small, student-run journal over at one of the local universities. He originally took up the job to: a) help pay the rent on the apartment b) learn more slang, idioms, sayings c) teach himself a little more about the Lilim culture. However, I'm contemplating having him fired, granted he oversleeps nigh constantly. He needs a change, and I think it'd be interesting to deal with him without his temporary "mission" for a few days. I'm still thinking on it, however.

What do they dress like?
God. Kaworu just wanders around in his school uniform (or pieces of it) 90% of the time. He has clothes to sleep in, but that's about it. Asuka has to drag him out to get at least weekend clothes.

Who is their best friend?
Actually, I'd say Asuka, Minato, and Russia (yes, Russia) are his BFFs right now. Nill is his not!sister, so that's a bit of a different relationship entirely. Asuka's ... Well, she's special, so she gets two titles. :|b

How would they respond to abuse?
Kaworu has a non-response to abuse that's inflicted on himself. Asuka can hit him, and he won't bother to stop her unless she does it more then once. Even then, he just gently catches her wrist and just talks it out. He's not person who resorts to violence, and would rather avoid conflict or put out the fuse before it begins. He's not passive like Shinji is, but he's very much a mediator and peace-keeper. However, there are a few triggers that a person can pull, and those would be violating Free Will (and generally the ability to be an individual - without choice, you lose the self) and harming those he's honestly come to care for. Truly. In those cases, he will confront people, and attempt to negotiate with them, or attempt to negotiate/speak with those who are experiencing it. If that fails, he will lay it down that he won't permit them to be harmed any longer. And if that fails, well. Kaworu is your martyr.

The only time, really, he has resorted to violence was in his fight against the Shadows to save Iwatodai. Then, that was for the greater good. So. Of course. That, and, he honestly came to care for all the members of S.E.E.S. and everyone else.

Do they have any nicknames?
Angel Boy. That's about it.

Are they seeing anyone? Married?
Not married. Lol. But. Yes. He is. Actually seeing Asuka. They are super awkward and derpy, and as everyone's placing it: Frustratingly adorable. But, also it is kind of like running into a minefield, if you're not careful. They're kind of super awesome, if you ask me. They round each other out beautifully, and they teach each other things. Kaworu's able to support her weight when she needs it, and understands her intuitively a good amount of the time, so that's always a plus. He also knows how to give her space. |Db

What species are they?
Kaworu is a mix of both human and Angel DNA. His soul is Adam's, but his body is that of a human in appearance.

Do they eat meat?
Actually, not really! He can eat most seafood, now anyway, but he can't stomach things like steak or hamburger. He's a little intolerant, granted the human body takes a great deal of energy to digest meat, and the bacteria present in meat is a little. Foreign. In other words, his digestive system is probably a little undeveloped, granted he was created like Rei was. For the fact he was created, he's more prone to infection when it comes to injury and is prone to heal slowly (but efficiently). If he doesn't take care of it, it'll spread. His healing abilities? Lol, gaiz. Lol.

What kind of accent do they have?
He doesn't have one. He just speaks very cozily and informally, in terms of Japanese syntax. He doesn't create a "verbal distance," if you catch my drift. It is, after all, it is likely part of the reason why Shinji blushes when he addresses him.

Are they a virgin?
Pffft. Yes. So, so yes.

What's their middle name?
He doesn't have one.

How old are they?
Physically, he's going to be seventeen in a little under three weeks. In reality, however, his soul is as old as time.

What's their favorite hobby?
Listening to music, playing the violin and the piano. Playing the violin, in particular.

What's their sexuality?
He loves people for who they are, basically. He's got an inclination toward homosexuality, granted all others that pinged him before Asuka were male, but that's the easiest way I can sum it up.

Any special powers?
The boy has a ton. He has an A.T. Field, so through this he can: Levitate, use himself as his own personal lightsource, unlocked doors/locks/push things open (telekinesis), he can defend/attack with his A.T. Field (though he only used it for attack against the Shadows), he can also scan Shadows with it for their weaknesses. He also has a sort of natural empathy, but I wouldn't call it a power as much as I would call it an extreme ability to become in tune with the emotions of others. When it comes to himself, however, he's a little derp. Kaworu can also take over/control/synchronize at any level he wishes to an Eva whose soul he can overpower/dominate. Notably, he can also short-circuit a variety of machines/modern technology.

What religion are they?
It's complicated. His kind of "religion" is kind of fact, lol.

Do they get ridiculed?
Very rarely. He knows how to hold his own. He gets along very well with most people, actually. The people who do call him a creeper or a weirdo, well. They're not inaccurate. He just rolls with the punches. He doesn't really care. Asuka teases him (playfully) now. However, he's still prone to her ridicule every-so-often.

Who are their friends?
Asukam, Minato, Russia, Nill, Austria, Allelujah, Mitsuru, Ten, Jet, um. Forgetting people.

Have they ever wanted to kill someone?
Absolutely not.

What color is their hair?
Gray.

What is their ethnicity?
"Unknown." He looks Japanese, but you can't really have an ethnicity when you're an Angel.

What is their favorite food?
He likes tea. Does that count?

Do they have a nice singing voice?
LMFAO NO. He can't even hum on key, never mind.

Have they ever hurt someone?
Physically? Yes. Sort of. He stabbed Shinji's Eva using Unit 02. Emotionally? Lol, yes. Absolutely. Ever on purpose? No. He doesn't aim to hurt people.

Are they male or female?
Male.

What is their favorite color?
Orange. No, really.

Who is their worst enemy?
... lol. Um. People who strip others of Free Will?

Where are they from?
Logical head canon dictates he came from Germany, granted SEELE's likely located there, and then proceeded to become the Fifth Child(ren) when he was transported over to NERV's HQ in Tokyo-3.

Are they in a relationship?
Already answered that. \o\

What would they do if they were held at gunpoint?
He would likely attempt to negotiate with the person, unless they weren't willing to negotiate. He wouldn't put up his A.T. Field unless he was certain they were going to fire at him.

Are they magic in any way?
No. He uses the "light of his soul."

Do they have any kids?
TECHNICALLY, because his soul is Adam's, kind of. He's actually kind of his own mom. ajlkdgkjf.

Has anyone close to them ever died?
YES. GDI, MINATO.

If they were an animal, what would they be?
He'd be a cat. Or a snake, lmao.

What sort of TV programs do they like?
... He doesn't really watch television. However, when he does, it is almost always documentaries.

What is their fondest memory?
Um. Just being around the people he cares about, really. Anything involving that.

What number would represent them?
Five. It's canon.

Do they consider themselves pretty?
Let's put it this way: 98% of the time, Kaworu is entirely oblivious to how he looks. The other 2% of the time, he's very aware. Lol. However, as for what he thinks of himself? He's pretty neutral. He doesn't really focus on beauty like most people would.

How often do they sleep?
ALL. THE. TIME. He loves sleeping.

Do they daydream?
Kaworu? Occasionally. I imagine he does when he's bored at work. They don't involve people, per se, but I would say that he does get ideas on what he would rather be doing, or what he would like to do, someday.

Do they have any hobbies?
He plays violin and the piano, and is something of classical music expert. He also adores philosophy. ♥

Do they like being outdoors?
He does, but not in the way that most people do, I would imagine. He has something of a love affair with the ocean. He likes dusk/night and dawn the most for going outside. He burns easily.

Are they intelligent?
Extremely. However, when it comes to that amount of intelligence, well. He's rather socially retarded. He's also kind of derp at understanding his own emotions, on the occasion.

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 04:00:35 GMT

khjghfj

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 03:59:43 GMT

sgxfddf

Sun, 03 May 2009 19:28:17 GMT

I honestly don't know where this came from.

However:

title: on the body of language
pairing: Kaworu/Shinji. Sort of.
rating: PG.
summary: An exploration of silences.

I.

He had never learned to dream.

(Ageless. Time ticking forward. Time ticking forward. It stops not for lilim, and stops little for him. And the more he tried to pull. The more he tried to dig his fingers into the shallow hollow of the throat of everything and nothing at all, the more it pulled away. The more it pulled back. Ebbing and flowing. Their bodies and their lives and his own. At mercy. A sea of garbled wishes. A sea of broken language. A sea of –)

But, one day, he does. (One day, he does. And it is everything and nothing. It is the glimpses of a foreign smile. It is the scent of boyishness, creeping into his lungs. Constricting in his chest. Smothering the mock-beat of his heart. It is the moments and the hours spent in his cramped apartment, with the pale curve of a neck in his peripheral vision. It is the smooth line of a collarbone. The smudged and pooling shadows. It is that instant – That very instant – Where the words run out. Where there is nothing more for Kaworu to say. Nothing more for him to do, except let what had always lived within him – live without him. There is nothing more to say when he takes the final and flickering seconds. Seizes them, though he never owned them, to influence the shifting blues of night against the far walls. To elicit a sigh and a shiver – When he leans over him. When he brushes the pads of his fingers along the warm skin of his lips and tells him, softly, and in the language of his body. Of his motionless lips and tongue. “Sleep, Shinji-kun.”)

There is nothing more to say, as Shinji rouses – Quiet and with a dry, dry note of inquiry. There is nothing more to say when Kaworu settles down, again. This time, beside him. There is nothing more to mention when Shinji never truly wakes.

Slumbers on.

II.

When Kaworu dreams again, he is in the palm of Unit 01. (And he can feel the tepid air beyond the reach of Heaven’s Door. The reluctant twitch of fingers.) He can feel the soul of it. The overwhelming love for him. For Shinji. He can feel it, and it threatens what little air he still holds in his lungs. (An intruder. You have hurt my son. You have—)

And he can hear Shinji, though he says nothing at all. He can hear his heart. He can hear it. A startled bird. Wings beating hard against the cage of his ribs. Crying, crying – hoarse and loud and – (He can hear too much. In this silence, what words he had expended. They echo still. In the confines of this room. Before the many eyes of Lilith. Before her child. Before her children and – (He can feel it, though he will never say it. He can feel Shinji’s words. Unspoken and untainted. Bubbling up somewhere from the only part that ties him here. That ties him to this world. That keeps him, for now, grounding – fraying, and splitting apart.)

I loved you.

And Kaworu’s smile softens. Softens. (Thins.)

And it is nothing but, the first splinter of bone and his defiant quiet.

That stays. That leaves.

(With him.)

III.

Part of him ha(d)(s) wanted to repeat it.

Part of him knew he should.

All of him had held him down. Weighted him. Locked his words. (Cold. Frail. Ageless. Behind lips and teeth and tongue. Three words. Two sentences. One name. I think I was--)

He does not watch as Unit 01 is washed down. He does not hear Misato calling for him. He does not hear anything, beyond the cool slide of white porcelain as his stomach lurches. As his fingers twist. As he retches, again. Unable to clear the sight of blood and bone. Of the sound of surging water. Of the thought of all he lost. (Of the thought that he had lost this, too.)

IV.

He does not speak his name when he is later found. When he is later offered a hand.

When, without thought, he flinches.

Backs away.

(And Misato does not go away until Shinji is strong enough to hoist himself up. To follow her to her car.)

Go home.

V.

There is nothing left to say. His name is ashes in Shinji’s mouth. And he takes a step forward. (He takes a step back.) Just slightly, gently, he can taste it. (Dead syllables. A funeral pyre for conversation. Scattered sentences. A remote and distant language.)

His lips are forming it, anyway. It comes out hoarse. (Like a condemnation. Like a prayer.)

And there is nothing he might say as Kaworu presses the pads of reddened fingers against the angry bruises. The scars that line his blue-white throat.

As he mouths the heavy syllables.

As Shinji waits for them.

VI.

It is only later, that he brushes his lips against his naked palm. It is only later, that he mouths that it is all right. That this would be a fair price. (His senses clogged with warmth. The startling proximity. His scent. The soft way that his nails hook into his aching arms. The way he, himself, guides them. Against once shattered ribs. Across the soft and bruising skin between the rises of them all.)

And no matter how loud his anxiety swells Shinji cannot block it out.

(Kaworu knows he can still hear it.)

/invites trouble.

Fri, 24 Apr 2009 00:19:34 GMT

ANON MEME

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 22:48:00 GMT

THE TRUTHORDARE MEME

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 03:56:43 GMT

RP LOVE MEME

♥?

THIS POST IS NOT AN EXCUSE TO JUST SHOW OFF THIS ICON I MADE.

Fri, 03 Apr 2009 05:52:41 GMT

Spam post:

Y/N/PIE?

[I could still be ruthless, if you let me.]

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 01:41:28 GMT

So, I'm thinking of no longer using AIM.

If you want to contact me, it'll have to be here. I'm trying to wean myself off of the internet entirely. I just think it is the best for me, really.

Fuck yeah, April Fool's.

Voice Post

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 06:06:26 GMT

Sun, 11 Jan 2009 06:25:14 GMT

Haha. Double-post:

RP PRAISE MEME TIEM IS GO:

C'est ici.

[I SENSE GREAT FEAR IN YO--oh, wait.]

Sat, 10 Jan 2009 16:47:18 GMT

Since all the cool kids are doing it:

The How's My Driving? Meme

[This mun is a crazy one.]

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 22:48:15 GMT

I AM INSANE. :|

This is a short (ha ha) comparative essay/outline connecting a possible base/inspiration for Kaworu's personality and thereby role in Neon Genesis Evangelion. This inspects the theory that Kaworu's role was largely connective to the Kabbalah's Adam Kadmon.

HAVE FUN.

I. [This is where I wanted to kill myself.]

I will make this very concise. (see: Hark, a herd of teal deer are crossing.)

A. This is a not-so-brief introduction as to who and what Adam Kadmon is:

According to the Kabbalah, Adam Kadmon is essentially the entire word or the entire universe. He was first to be born spontaneously from the metaphysical void and he embodies several worlds, which pertain to the mouth, nose, and eyes. It is said that he emanated them from the various orifices on his head. He holds the sun as his heart and the moon somewhere between his heart and his abdomen. In this sense, Adam Kadmon conveys that general idea that the cosmos can possess a soul and a body, much like man, and that it too is filled with its own interests, values, and love.

In order to connect Kaworu to Adam Kadmon, we first must examine Adam.

1. Adam Kadmon is a gigantic, divine being who emanates light. Adam, as he was so introduced, was dubbed: "The Giant of Light." When Adam was roused from his slumber, he was quite literally a being that was seemingly composed of light. As Misato recalls later, the most that she was able to distinguish beyond the whiteness, was his eyes and his "core." But, how does this relate to Kaworu?

a. Kaworu is the vessel for what remains of Adam's soul. Despite the fact that Adam himself is now a fetus, who is later consumed by Gendo. Kaworu is a blend of both human DNA and Angel DNA. As stated by Ritsuko in the manga:
"Among the data from [Misato's father's] research team that was retrieved just before [Second Impact] happened, I have heard there were signs of an attempt to use human genes in some way. If that was actually done in secret, if that time an Angel was born taking a human constitution, and if [SEELE] got their hands on it, then according to the MAGI, everything seems consistent [in supporting that Kaworu is the last Angel]."

b. However, what does this mean for Kaworu? Well: This means that his previous incarnation was, in fact, Adam. However, as we note, Kaworu's obviously not a "Giant of Light," and thus it seems silly and irrelevant to compare Adam Kadmon to Kaworu directly. However, this isn't so. If you look carefully, when he manages to penetrate Terminal Dogma, instead of a shadow wavering beneath him as he's going down to Heaven's Door, it is a pool of light. In that sense, Kaworu still possesses and emanates the light that Adam did, but on a much smaller scale.

c. Kaworu also refers to light directly when speaking to Shinji about A.T. Fields. In the anime, he uses this phrase here:
"Yes. At least that is what you Lilim call this thing. This is the light of my soul, a sacred territory in which no one may intrude ... "

When taking into account that Kaworu's A.T. Field is also the strongest one ever detected, it supports the fact that he's the most powerful Angel in this string of Angels fifteen years after the fact [of Second Impact].

2. All right, now moving on: It is said that, like those in Evangelion, man wished to possess Adam Kadmon. In his place, Eve was created to fulfill man's need for companionship and sexual desires. Adam, in Evangelion, was the God that humans (or Lilim) had longed for. It was said that, in their joy, they had sought to possess him, but failed. Instead, they destroyed him. This is a bit controversial in my opinion. Clearly, man sought to become "Gods" themselves. In most religions, the main motivation is to become "pure" or "one with the higher entity." Adam Kadmon is no exception, notably.

However, their wish to return Adam to an embryonic state awoke the other Angels. The Room of Guf was opened, in other words. Instead, Adam was reduced to a fetus, and his power was nigh inaccessible. For so they thought. However, again, how in the world does this relate back to Kaworu?

a. This is a short and highly controversial section: When Kaworu appeared to Shinji, what became immediately evident was Shinji's notable attraction to him. He blushed, he stuttered, he opened himself up completely to this near stranger, and in return he was granted Kaworu's love and empathy. When you have followed Shinji's character this entire series, this sets off red flags in your head. Shinji is anything but open. When Kaworu rests his hand over Shinji's own in the public bath, he doesn't violently jerk his hand away like he has done in the past to Katsuragi or to Asuka. His hand jerks a little, yes, but he doesn't pull it away. He lets it stay there, and if you squint, he moves it closer to him.

I am not saying Shinji wished to "possess" him sexually (though I am inclined to believe he may have in the manga via this quote here: "I was ... Attracted to him. Before I knew it ... Somewhere deep in my heart ... ", coupled with the other bipolar reactions to him), but Shinji definitely sought something within him. It was evident that Kaworu made Shinji feel more at ease. He provided Shinji with everything that he had ever wanted to hear, but was never able to hear. He listened to him. He told him things without being condescending or harsh. He loved him, in other words. I'm swayed to think he wished to believe in the love that he gave him, and possibly reciprocate it in some fashion. Shinji does admit that he loves him at the end of episode 24 when speaking to Katsuragi, and admits it a second time (in its original Japanese version) episode 25:
"I still have to pilot [Unit 01], even after they made me kill the one that I love?"

Anyway, getting to my main point here:

b. After Third Impact was ultimately initiated and before Instrumentality began, Rei had fused with Lilith with the fetus of Adam inside her. By "going home," as she dubbed it, she triggered the events to follow. In this, she ultimately denied Gendo the god-like powers he had sought to bring Yui back to him, but ... Well, that's a different point altogether.

Anyway. In order for Shinji to decide the ultimate fate of the world and mankind, he had to become God. Using Unit 01, who was created from Lilith, this would serve as the ... Well, metaphorical and literal "egg" or "container" for the decision. In order for this to occur, he needed to be marked with the stigmata (which he was), surrounded by the Mass Produced Eva Series, which would ultimately etch out the symbol for the Tree of Life (which he was), and now Mega-Rei-Lilith needed to appear before him. She needed to offer the Lance of Longinus with which to pierce the core of Unit 01, thus uniting the Fruit of Life (which Kaworu bequeathed upon his death) and the Fruit of Wisdom (which the Lilim hold).

Are you following me?

Good.

Anyway, when Shinji snapped out of his stupor, he noted Rei and subsequently screamed. He rejected her as the one who would, well, quite literally pierce Unit 01 with the Lance and thus initiate Instrumentality. THIS IS WHERE MY POINT IS: Instead, after Shinji suffered a massive anxiety attack, he was interrupted by a voice.

To his surprise (and ultimate ecstasy) it was Kaworu that now stood before him. After a short exchange, ("Is this better?" "Kaworu-kun! You were there all along?") Shinji accepted Mega-Rei/Kaworu-Lilith in Kaworu's form. So, in some ways, you might say by the penetration of the core by the Lance wielded by Kaworu was the direct connection to man's sexual need for Adam Kadmon, just in the form of a very obvious innuendo.

THERE. GOD.

3. Now. Adam Kadmon is also responsible for the creation and redemption of mankind. Adam, in this sense, was the "mother" of Angels. However, this point doesn't connect as solidly with Adam as it does to Kaworu himself.

a. Kaworu, being the fated child, was given two options: I. He could merge with Lilith, thereby causing Third Impact and erasing individuality, bringing man together as a literal "whole," and therefore as a "superior being" or "God". This would rid of war, strife, starvation, and all misunderstanding. It would rid of what man hated and feared most: loneliness. II. He could reject this notion and allow himself to be killed, thereby denying them godly status, but keeping man's individuality intact. By doing this, man would not constantly struggle to become individuals in the homogeneous being that Third Impact would have created.

Kaworu chose to reject his destiny, and therefore chose by his own will his way to die. That was the only "absolute freedom," as he phrased it, he had. By doing this, you may say he refused to redeem them himself, but instead let man decided how they wished to be redeemed. He let them chose their future, instead of deciding for them. He liked them as individuals, and his decision was very much influenced by Shinji. He came to love him, after all. He made his life meaningful. ♥

4. Lastly, Adam Kadmon is said to be "The First and the Last, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End." Not surprisingly, the episode that Kaworu appears in is called: "The Beginning and the End: Knocking on Heaven's Door". However, I'm going to go into a little more depth here:

a. Adam was at the Beginning of the mess and likely at the Beginning of all things. Adam and Lilith did come from space and were later encapsulated in their respective "eggs". These "eggs," were called the White Moon (Adam) and the Black Moon (Lilith). Lilith's "egg" is the Geofront beneath Tokyo-3. Lilith was already there when it was discovered. She was waiting for a successor to bring about Third Impact, really. Adam's "egg" was discovered beneath the Antarctic ice caps. Their impact on Earth is theorized to have killed the dinosaurs (First Impact). Anyway, Adam Kadmon was there at the Beginning of all things, as well.

In a more informal sense, Kaworu was there at the Beginning of the mess following Second Impact. He was born from Adam then, just like the rest.

b. Naturally, Adam Kadmon is at the End of all things, as well. The same might be said of Kaworu. People sought to return to Adam Kadmon, and he offered them their redemption by his own will. Kaworu did this when he died. He gave the choice for humanity's future to Shinji. However, this also connects to Instrumentality. He was there to bring about Instrumentality when he appeared out of Mega-Rei-Lilith.

SO IN CONCLUSION:

Kaworu is not necessarily Adam Kadmon, but I believe that a large part of his character was very much based upon Adam Kadmon's role in the Kabbalah.

Also, random: The "core" is an interesting subject. No one really knows what it is, but by destroying these "cores," they are able to slay the Angels. Kaworu, unlike his brothers and sisters, does not have a visible "core." From that, I theorize that the "core" is very much like the heart of a human. With that said, Kaworu's "core," was likely his potentially human heart. When he was crushed by the hand of Unit 01, you might say his "core" was likely punctured. I am completely skirting the other, gorier details. :|b

[I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.]

Mon, 27 Oct 2008 15:44:53 GMT

NO YOU ARE NOT SEEING THINGS.

Title: Meet Me at the End of the World
Series: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Pairing: Eventual Kaworu/Shinji.
Rating: PG-13, this chapter.
Genre: AU. Ikari Shinji, the last angel, cannot find it within himself to kill the Third Child, Nagisa Kaworu.
Chapter: 7/12, Drive Derivative.
Notes: Armisael's appearance is beginning to be the least of Shinji's worries.

---
(child 003, aged III, memory)
---

The soft sound of waking. The color of crows. The low, low crooning of morning. Nagisa remembers the way it would creep under the door. Spread through his room like water. Seeping and swarming. Flickering and flitting into corners. Up his walls. (And he admired it. Fascinated and fatigued. Rubbing at his eyes with the back of his small, small hands. Lips quirked without understanding why.)

He remembers the sound of the radio. The crackle of voices. The slow intonations in a language he once understood. Now fails to understand. Words lost beneath a haze of half-thoughts. Half-dreams. The imprint of his childhood room blurred and distorted.

(This was in the country, that he knows. He remembers pulling himself from the warm cocoon of sheets and blankets. He remembers sometimes, when the door was open, watching her walk in. Fresh bread. Baked that morning down the road. France. And he remembers, sometimes, the taste of it. That scent. Mingling with the distant ocean.)

And, on this particular morning, he remembers staying in bed. He remembers her voice. His mother's voice. Floating in from down the hall. (He can no longer remember her face. But, he has her words. He has them. He has them. He--And it is better than nothing at all.) Syllables tripping off her tongue. Syllables he used to know.

"He's not feeling well today--" (He remembers. He remembers the way his stomach twisted. How his limbs seemed too heavy to lift. Too numb. How his breathing faltered. Weary and thin.) "No, he'll be fine to come out and play tomorrow." (He cannot remember the lie--He does not remember the day he emerged again. But he can recall the over-heated nature of his skin. How each small movement caused the sheets to rustle. Dry and loud against the morning din.)

"I promise."

(And he can remember the flickering smile. The mutual meeting of eyes. When she closed the door. Paused before his room, all too white and too bright -- His sight, maladjusted to the wake of sunlight, streaming in behind her shoulder. Her hair--)

"She's coming tomorrow."

(--And he can remember the reach of his fingers. The hesitance. How each trembled. How they looked so pale, so translucent, like--)

Glass. A glass of water gently coaxed into his hands. What may have been minutes or hours later. The stretch of shadows in his room flowing and ebbing as if on their own command.

(He does not remember. Perhaps lucidity had erased it. But, he can remember the scent of her skin. The way he leaned his head against her chest. His body propped up. The soft, slow thump of her heart in his ear. The red of her dress. Of his sheets. Of this room. He can remember curling against her warmth, and the gentle way her arm had settled around him. Her free hand inspecting the crook of his elbow. Swollen slightly. And even in the dim light, under his foggy sight, he could see it. He could--)

And he remembers the words. Spilling from his lips. Like the water that slid down his chin. Along the hot curve of his throat. (Or was it sweat? He couldn't remember. He could not remember. But, his mother--She did it for him. Wiped it away. Her fingertips calloused. Unbearably warm.)

"Don't be scared." And it was his voice. Feathery and marked. It was his voice. Rising like the oncoming dark. "I'll be all right." (And he could feel it. Thrumming through him. Pressed against his body. Into his flesh and veins and blood. He could feel it. Something sharp and bittersweet. Underneath his tiny palms.)

Fear.

(And he could almost taste it as she pressed an absent kiss against his hair. As she held him nearer. Felt the tepid night air curl in through the open window. Soundless. Almost--)

Fear.

And her words. Heavy. And if he strains his memory enough--Curves his fingers into the groove of that silence. Gathers and ties together the threads of misplaced recollection. He almost remembers the tone she took. The words she breathed. Quiet. And quieter, then.

"I'm not." A lie. A lie. And it was all it took. "I'm not." And quieter, still. "Kaworu." (And his name. Repeated. A back-beat. An echo. And he can remember his mother's soft inquiries. Rousing him. Mumbles of: "Stay awake. Just a little while longer." Mumbles of: "You've always been an odd one." And her hand on his face. Fingertips following the bridge of his nose. Ticklish. "We're all strung together. Do you remember? Will you? Even when she takes you from me?")

Even when--

(And it may have been lucidity. Perhaps it had erased it. The next whisper. The color of the water in his mother's hand.)

--She'll be here tomorrow.

(And the taste of copper. Too weary to look up.)

Silence.

---
12.

He couldn't make sense of it.
(Thirty seconds, and an eye blink. The quiet of the corridors and the tug of a wrist. The de-pressurization of air locks and the short, quiet breaths. The pause and--)

"You are far too concerned about me, Ay--"
(--the proceeding silence.)

Morning was bleeding into afternoon. And he pressed his shoulders to the wall. Breathed in sharply. Breathed out quietly. (There was nothing else to do, beyond wait. Curl his fingers. Uncurl.) And for a long moment, he eyed the shadows receding on the far walls. Willowy and grayed.

Grayed. (And he recalled Nagisa's skin. For an instant. Like ash in the looming darkness. His conversation. Simple. How he had looked so certain and assured from the doorway. Watching him find his way home after the storm and--)

['You will follow him, then.']

He recalled the unforgiving bite of the metal chair. The thick silence. The gray static of thought. Of dust in the low lights. He recalled the uncomfortable shift of attention. The tangible ripple of thought. (The bass rumble of voices he had always known. Had come to know. Weighing his honesty. The Third is friendly. I-I've tried to--)

['Lull him. Make him believe you aim to be his friend.']

And he shook his head. It didn't make it. It couldn't make sense. (In the quiet of the hall. Long after the thick thud of the air locks -- She dislikes me.) And he narrowed his eyes briefly. Pressed his palm against his forehead. And pressed himself for answers. For questions. (First. The First. Her pale, pale fingers wrapped around Nagisa's wrist. She doesn't like me. The quiet moment. A skipped note. And the bleeding light of morning into afternoon marking them gold.)

Why is it? Why are they--?

(He remembered their conversation. He remembered this hall. He knows the tile. How Nagisa had mentioned so quietly that the blood never really came up. How the whole facility reeked of it. And--)

He didn't grab her. She grabbed him. She reached out for him. He--

(--The Second. And his quiet breathing seemed amplified in this empty hall. Too white. Too narrow. Too--)

He passed here with him. He had paused before the infirmary. The soft stringing of words for a moment snapping, receding.

(--And he lifted his hand to rub at his eyes.)

['Exploit his interest. Learn what you can.']

He had been so kind. He has been so kind. Polite interest. He recalled the soft quirk of his lips. His patience with his questions. (The way his fingers moved. Over the strings of the violin. How simple. How effortless. How--)

['One for your side may rid of any lingering suspicion.']

And he recalled the way he entered his room that night. His eyes dark and filled with a murky, disillusioned joy. A small spark of recognition. (His face open and expression closed . How blunt. How rude--)

And he knew it then. It was simple. It made sense. (He’ll help me reach my goal. He’ll help me, and he will not even know it. He’ll-- And his body moved on its own accord. Any easy distance. Cleared. His fingers on the handle of the door--)

And the tiny corridor, in this massive facility, erupted in sound.

(And the amid the chaos, he saw Major Katsuragi head quickly down the bisecting hall. Give him one, searching glance. --ALL HANDS! LEVEL ONE BATTLESTATIONS!-- Saw her look past him. The screech of harsh sirens. Her figure disappearing and Nagisa’s hand, suddenly, upon the curve of his shoulder--Too close. His mouth by his ear. Go.)

And Ayanami, already ahead of him, walking purposefully toward the cages. A peculiarity in her posture. And Nagisa not answering why it was not him, who was summoned to go.

He turned to give him a look. To say anything.

And was greeted by empty air. Empty space.

(And the dull, solid hiss of airlocks.)

---
13.

It is muted in the locker rooms.

No speech. No words. Just the whisper of thin fabric that hangs between them. That separates Ayanami from himself. (And out of the corner of his eye, he sees her slim silhouette. The excess material of the plugsuit suddenly tightening against her body with the touch of a button. The right wrist. And in a moment, he mimics this. In a moment, he pulls his gaze away from her. Touches his cheek with his gloved fingertips. Wonders briefly over the familiarity of this all.)

And it is a small, subdued sound. The slow intake of breath. His fingers settling on the bench beneath him. (Neural clips. An odd weight. Snug against his head.) And it is a dull sound, the muffled trilling of alarms.

And it is a gentle start. Crisp words. Cool and calm. Ayanami’s voice. Devoid of--(Her fingers are peeking around the curtain. And there is the sudden compulsion to feel their fragility. To feel what it was like to have them firmly wrapped around his wrist. Like Nagisa. Like--)

Pink fingertips. Skin as white as marble. Whiter. (In the clinical lighting, she is evanescent. She is--)
“You may stay back. I will take the initial shots. Do not worry yourself with needless experimentation.”

And for a moment, her words are lost on him. Lost between the distance. The inches or miles between them. And he is not sure who reaches first. Bridges the distance. A fraction of skin contact. Shinji’s outstretched hand, curling around the curtain in response. The merest flicker of warmth. The side of her hand brushing the side of his.

(--a ghost.)

And he wishes to protest. He wishes to see her face. To prove his worth. (Delay suspicion. And a heavy anxiety settles deep in the pit of his stomach. Lurches there with a sick, sick need for something he cannot place. Cannot--)

Does she know? Does she know she and I are the--?

And there are words. Rising. Under the dusty light. A question posing itself abruptly as Ayanami moves to stand. Turns her back. Lets her hand release the material, slow.

“About Nagisa-kun, he said--”

And he can see the pause. Hear the drip of the showerheads. The echo of her soft, soft breath:
“--No.” And Shinji stills. Watches her back. The shadow of her form, from behind the curtain. Barely moving. Stock still. And his he feels anxious. Nauseous.

And before she takes a step away again, toward the cages, he barely catches her next three words. Like the low notes on the viola. The uncertain drag of bow on strings. “He is … Tolerable.”

(And as he lets her go, the response that comes to mind is frightening. Is soft. Is in--‘He is.’ Agreement.)

---
14.

Silence.

Then the low crackle of the communicators. The harsh snap of trees. (And it felt almost too familiar. Outside himself. Watching instead of leading. Breathing in. Slow and quick. Feeling far too confined. Confined. Confined.)

They were only half-told the position. The nature. (And Shinji had wracked his brain for a name. Plucked and pulled apart elder memories. The stern face of Dr. Akagi just before sortie, flickering on the monitor.)

-We want to see what you’re able to do.-
(He remembers his slow nod. The dull roar of LCL in the shell of his ears. Thick and heavy on the tip of his tongue. He remembers the odd lurch his stomach gave as they were set for launch. The actual sensation, the quick snap up, rushing for higher ground. He remembers his first, half-step off the platform and the faint awareness of the lack of a cord.)

Then, this silence. This slow, cautious march toward the target. (They knew it was not too far. They knew there was no sufficient data which could assist them. They knew nothing of the nature. Of--)

And when he pulled himself from his absorption, the repetitive shifting of weight and whitewhite sound of whispering. The dull brown snapping. And wavering trees -- He could see it. (And he could feel it. The stagnated air. The faint, gray hum of its body, in synch with his own breathing -- coiling endlessly, and he thought of an ouroboros. (Over and over and over. And he barely heard the order to pause. Barely heard the order to cease their advancing. And he stood back. One step, two -- Behind Ayanami. Watching her slowly heft the rifle. Sinking back into a half-stance.)

A breath.

And a sudden click in. (And he had tensed at the sound. Had raised his rifle higher. Had almost pulled the trigger.) And was almost relieved to hear the firm voice of Major Katsuragi, brow furrowed in thought.

-Hold position and observe.-

A half-beat, and he glanced to Unit 00. Watched it sink back further. Raise the rifle, quick and--He felt it, the sudden sharpness of familiarity. A name seeping into the corners of his consciousness. This was--

He may have mumbled it. He cannot remember, now. But, on his lips was the name: Armisael.

And almost like he had summoned her, herself -- She coiled. Unfurled. A clean, clean line. (The humming ceased. And there was silence. There was no more movement, and he held his breath--)

Armisael pushed forward, and frozen he hung back as Ayanami fired first. As he noted she was failing. As she kept on pushing forward, barely slowed, after every solid hit. (And in the background, he could hear the whisper of Ayanami, even through the sound of blood thrumming in his ears--Anxiety rising higher and higher as he noted it was going straight for her. Going straight for--)

And it was quick. Without thought. A reflexive shove. Almost too much. Unit 00 stumbling for a half-step, when Armisael doubled back. Reared, snake-like. Swayed. (And he could feel her hesitation. Seething. And--His finger squeezed the trigger. The kick of the rifle startling him from the pause. The wait. The--

(It was a though he had seen this before. The adrenaline slowing the time. His voice clogged and thick: "I need something else! Something else! Something else!" Response. Barely heard. The change in air pressure. She was-- -I'm sending out the dual saw! Run to point C-833!-)

She was quick, but he was quicker. And he can barely recall willing Unit 02 to jump. His foot slamming down on her body when she shoved forward, writhing testily--(Jerking back. Subconscious. A smooth succession of flips. Biting down on his tongue. Tasting blood. And--) Landing hard on his feet. Fingers digging into the uneven turf. A safer distance. Gathering seconds. Hearing the crackle of caught breath through the communicators. Three seconds. Four seconds--And the click of machinery. Groping blindly. (And his fingers grasped the handle of the dual saw as it appeared beside him. Roared to life in his hands. The vibrations shaking up his arms. Chest heaving. And the agitated coil of Armisael's body lashing forward, once more.)

"I can't lose this one. I can't lose this one. I can't--"

He lifted the saw. Knee-jerk reactions. Braced himself. (And almost too late, as she impacted. As she thrashed, wild, inches from the head case. His arms straining to push her up and away. Trying to turn the saw. The jagged edge. Teeth into her body. His brow furrowed. Jaw set. And heels digging into the earth. Knees locked. And--)

-GET OUT OF THERE!-

(A distraction. His eyes cut to the right. Unit 00--She's trying to make contact with the--? Second thoughts. And over the blaring of gun fire, he saw the other branch. Penetrating through Unit 00's casing. His voice raw and panted. His arms giving out. And: "Ayanami--!")

There. And it was an opening. A miscalculation. His fingers slackening around the handle. For a moment. A millisecond. A--

He couldn't feel it. At first. Didn't note it. (Ayanami. He could see Unit 00's hands fly up. Grip the offending branch. Tug. Strain. He could see the curve of its back. The short, sharp scream through the communicator. The way she resigned. After a moment. After--) And then--Veins, seeping into the Dual Saw. And it was too late. It was far too late.

Impulse told him run. And he did not. Impulse told him flee. And he did not. Impulse told him to drop the weapon. He did.

(And it was a clumsy motion. It was his first step toward Ayanami. It was Major Katsuragi's voice crackling, sharp in his ears: -YOU IDIOT, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE-- -)

And it was the roar of the Dual Saw. Inches from the head case. A swaying appendage. Penetrating type--And he tried to move around it. Tried to get to her. Tried to--I have to try. I have--And it was the stirring of the trees around them. The strong gust of wind--And he should have seen it. And it was only by will he counter-balanced himself. Fell back, instead of forward as Armisael swung. Silent, and without warning. Severed Unit 02's leg just below the knee. Saw thick with gore. The cracking of pines and the dull, echoing impact. And his scream. His own scream. The back-beat of a curse. (Not his own. Not his--) A quick, white jolt of pain and pain and pain. (-LOWER THE...-) Back arching and teeth gritted. And when his vision cleared-- He pushed himself up. Eyes skyward. Waited for the inevitable. The glow of a naked branch, no weapons, no--And it quickly penetrated.

Through armor. Through body. Into his veins. Into his blood.

(For the span of a second, the force of foreign emotion stole what little air he held in his lungs.)

---
15.

He does not remember much of what had followed.

(Stillness. His vision blurring. He could feel her coiling into his veins. Into his blood. He could feel Ayanami. The waking of something painful. Sharp. Bright. He could remember his stomach churning. Uncomfortable. The intense constriction of his heart. His lungs. So deep and so damning he could not pull air in. Could not see past himself. Past the encompassing growth. Unit 00.)

He does not remember much of what had followed, but he remembered the numbness in his leg. The sensation of a phantom limb. The sudden quiet of the entry plug. The soft stirring of LCL.

(He could feel a wetness on his cheeks. He could feel it pooling. Gathering. He could feel it sliding along his throat. Down. He could feel the tug. His hands trembling on the controls.)

Is this my heart?

It was not his voice. It was not his voice. (He shut his eyes tight against the silence. Felt it creeping in, regardless. Felt the fingers of it twisting within him. Into the marrow. Scraping it's nails. Gathering the honeycombed tissue. Past bone, past flesh. Tangling with sinew and the threads of capillary veins--)

Is this--?

His stomach churned. Nagisa. (He could barely see the fight. Barely see the form the Armisael had taken. Was it himself? Ayanami? He could feel it twisting toward him, for a moment. Swaying back and forth between himself and Nagisa. The curves of a familiar body. He felt it rest it's hand against the headcase. Felt--or was it heard?--Nagisa's voice coming in. Past the blackening visuals and--)

(-REI WHAT ARE YOU--?!)

And what he does remember is Armisael being draw back to her. Back to Unit 00. What he does remember is the deafening pause. The way Nagisa (Unit 01) and himself had not moved. Comprehending what was occurring. Comprehending--

And what he does remember is the blast that followed. The sudden release of emotion. The sharp spike of something like need sinking through him. Into him. Around him. As the visuals blackened entirely. Until, after a long time, Unit 01 came to stand beside him. Came to crouch before him. Lay a hand on the severed leg of Unit 02 (and he could feel it, and he writhed. Winced). And murmured, through the static of the communicators:

"After you."

---
16.

It is a silence that hangs between them, thick and uneasy. Like the slow draw on a violin. The drip of water from the shower heads, and Nagisa's faltering footsteps. Face devoid of emotion.

Shinji had not budged from the bench. Had not seen the point in it. Had merely watched his shadowy reflection on the tile floor. Curled his fingers. Uncurled them. The plug suit sticking uncomfortably to the crook of his arms. To the back of his legs. Neck. (And he barely registered Nagisa pausing beside him. Like an afterthought. Barely registered his voice. Barely registered it is his name he was speaking. Mind too full. As though he were cupping his hands to speak through water. To --) And it is only when he leans forward, the scent of his skin and the heat of the shower trickling in, does he shake his head. Does he shift. Even in the slightest. Does he hinge on the sentence:

"You have nothing to be upset about," And Nagisa's words are almost detached. His voice carrying no sorrow. No remorse. No--(And he feels irritation, slowly spreading along his spine. Like fingers. Like the remnants of the Arismael's infection. A rash he cannot counteract. Cannot dig his nails into. Scratch.) "She was a fool, to sacrifice herself like--"

And now, he barely registers the fact he is on his feet. That his hand is balled in the front of Nagisa's shirt. Pulling at the material. Straining. The skin of his knuckles whitewhitewhite. (And he barely registers the startled expression on Nagisa's face. Barely registers that Nagisa's pale hands are half-poised in front of him. Ready to push him back.) And there is no logical explanation for it. Anger like static pulling through him. Unable to determine the source. Something disgusting and sharp and sticky curling behind the cage of his ribs. Struggling to change the beat of his heart. Contamination. He had been contaminated. The First--The First--

And his words are not his own. His words are his own. His voice straining and cracking. Crackling. Body trembling. Fingers shaking from exertion. And Nagisa's eyes. Still wide and trained upon him. Shadows sharp and heart beat wild. And he could feel it. Beneath the back of his hand. Nagisa's voice gone. Utterly, utterly--

"--Say it! Say it again! She ought to have hated you--She ought to have--" (Too much sound. His own heart too loud. His breath too short. Nagisa's breathing like the uncertain notes of song. Faint and--He didn't know when he had pressed, shoved him, hard against the lockers. His skin a wild contrast to the garish green of the metal. The lights flickering and humming out warnings and--) He could not remember--(His mother. He thought of his mother. He thought of her hand. The way Ayanami had paused for that one, singular instant. Touched his wrist. And--) Quieter. His fingers slackening. The faint anxiety in Nagisa's eyes fading into concern. Into something softer. Into--"She did it because--She..."

And he could hear Nagisa's shaky inhale. His lulled exhale. The soft movements of his body. An intermission. And he saw the way he lowered his eyelashes. Matted. The way he felt weak when he moved his lips, for a moment, soundless before speaking (As even and calm as ever before. Murmured. Over the sound of dripping water onto the tile. From Nagisa's hair. The color of gunmetal. Stuck in whorls against his cheeks. His forehead. Clinging near the corners of his eyes and--)

"It was the opposite."

A statement. A pause. A half-beat. (And Shinji felt light-headed. Taking an awkward step back. His fingers still lingering against the warm fabric of Nagisa's shirt. Red. Like his palm. The angry indentations of his own nails into his skin.)

And Shinji couldn't answer. Could answer. (The difference in height, noted. The proximity. The way he caught himself staring. Openly. His breath still panted. Echoing back.) But, Nagisa's hand had lifted. His warm fingers coming to rest lightly against the back of his wrist. The same gesture Ayanami had left him with. Different, somehow, and yet--

It was automatic. And it was quick. And he jerked back. The sensation of his fingers still burning along the flesh of his wrist. The sharp spike of pain when his back hit the lockers on the other side. Six feet away. (He had backed up too quickly. His eyes wide and his chest heaving. Erratic. Somethingfeltwrong. And his mind scrambled for logic. Scrambled for answers. Too many thoughts. Too little thoughts. Nagisa. His name forming on Nagisa's lips. "Shinji-kun?...Shinji-kun?...Shinji!" Before--)

He wished he would go. He wished he were not so helpful. He wished--But, he was beside him, after a moment of pause. (Everything too fast. Still too loud.) Crouching next to him. Hand raking through his hair. Eyes darting off to the left. (And he knew then--He knew--)

And he tried to pull back. (Nowheretogonowhereto--) He tried to push him away, but the sensation was back. His hand on his shoulder. Pain. (Letmegoletmegoletme--) Energy gone. Sapped. (And he struggled, despite Nagisa's steady persistence. The lulling hum of wordless nonsense. The tiles cool against his palms. Struggled, despite his warmth. Being pulled against his chest. Breathing fast and shallow. Feeling Nagisa inhale against his back. Exhale by his ear. A tangle of arms and legs. Somehow worked out. Somehow--)

Gasped out. He could hear himself gasping out:
"W-what are you--?"

(He could feel his head lolling forward. Nagisa's voice like the ebbing of the ocean. Low and rhythmic. Low and--)

"Breathe, Shinji-kun."

(A command. Continued. Soft and over the rapid succession of inhales. Exhales. The sensation of Nagisa's heat intrusive and--He could feel his hair against his neck. The vibration of his words. "Hold your breath. Ten seconds. Breathe like me." His thoughts jumbled. A mosaic. A --Ishouldhaveknown. Whydidn'tI--? And still going: "You're hyperventilating. Focus on my breath. Focus on my breathing--" And he could feel the locker room closing in. Bottling up. Shadows swaying at the corners of his vision. Threatening to spill inwards. Threatening--)

His mother had never done this. His mother had never done this--And the method was odd. (And he could feel his chest. Rising slowly against him. His hands seeking purchase. Nagisa's arms hooked around him. Too much sensation. And his fingers finding his knees. His breathing slowing, slowing--) But, his body timed it. Synchronized it. (And he could hear Nagisa's words. Impossibly punctuated. Next to his ear. A mantra. Inhale. A skipped beat. Exhale.)

And he could feel Nagisa's arms. He could see their merged shadow. And he could feel his grip. Tightening around him. Pulling him closer. (His sight spotting. When his hand. His palm. Rested against his stomach. When he squirmed faintly in his mock embrace. Everything quieting. Nagisa's mantra pausing. Stopping.)

And he could hear the drip of the shower heads. The softness of Nagisa's breath against his neck. In the shell of his ear. The long, relieved sigh.

"Are you--"

And--

He could feel his quiet. The heat of his body. The press of his hair against his cheek as he went to curl his fingers beneath his chin. Check if he was--

"--all right?"

--the shadows spilled inward.

(And there was nothing more, than silence.)

---
A/N: [DIES]