OOC: ficlet, party of one
Thing I've been working on since daemon virus. Takes place during the run-through of his canon so beware of spoilers.
Absolutely no entry!
Asuka's parting message for the unfortunates. She was long gone from the apartment, of course. Off to Hikari's where she didn't have to stare at their stupid faces day in and day out. She would be back. In time for the next Angel. (never quite return afterward.) Her huge scrawling hiragana conjured up her face in Shinji's mind as he padded down the hallway to Misato's door. Haughty and self-assured. Things he could never be. Things she had wanted him from very much (excluding love, protection, and acceptance).
Kibou spoke in her quiet voice. It was time to do, not stand. This was his one chance. He couldn't let Misato nor the people who believed that he was worth a shred of anything down. Choices were ahead of him.
Decision.
Conscious effort in steering one's life on a course that cannot be undone.
He froze in fear; body numb, heart racing, breaths shallow and quick. No, anyone but him, he couldn't please don't have her choose to leave don't leave me don't abandon me please love me don't don't don't
Kibou pricked him with her quills gently enough to reel him in before he got too far. It worked, reality slamming into him with a rush that left him breathless. There was one more thing that had to be done before he collapsed into himself. This one. His knocks were hesitant and terrified--yet audible. She greeted sooner than he was prepared for, leaving him floundering. Anything he could say was going to be useless. Just like him. Whatever came out of his mouth to others was useless, forgettable. God, what was he doing?
He looked at her then. Eyes red and puffy, posture straight, clothes neat, fresh tear marks: the picture of quiet misery sealed away for others benefit. There was a lot he didn't understand about her, but he knew that she gave up a lot for others, for him who had been the brunt of her sacrifices in the last few months. There came a time when taking stopped and giving began, even if you were afraid the giving was going to be shoved in your face. Realizing that running away was no longer an option, he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
"Misato, I--. About Kaji-san. I'm sorry. He was strange and said and did strange things, but he was always nice to everyone. And you cared about him and. Well. I'm really sorry."
The long seconds of silence were solid between them. Shinji had never felt close--well, that was a lie. He had felt close to her, but never close enough. Not close enough to understand. He still didn't when her resolve of normality broke and she burst into tears, grabbing him about the shoulders and sobbing into his shirt, but maybe that was okay for now.
That was okay.
Absolutely no entry!
Asuka's parting message for the unfortunates. She was long gone from the apartment, of course. Off to Hikari's where she didn't have to stare at their stupid faces day in and day out. She would be back. In time for the next Angel. (never quite return afterward.) Her huge scrawling hiragana conjured up her face in Shinji's mind as he padded down the hallway to Misato's door. Haughty and self-assured. Things he could never be. Things she had wanted him from very much (excluding love, protection, and acceptance).
Kibou spoke in her quiet voice. It was time to do, not stand. This was his one chance. He couldn't let Misato nor the people who believed that he was worth a shred of anything down. Choices were ahead of him.
Decision.
Conscious effort in steering one's life on a course that cannot be undone.
He froze in fear; body numb, heart racing, breaths shallow and quick. No, anyone but him, he couldn't please don't have her choose to leave don't leave me don't abandon me please love me don't don't don't
Kibou pricked him with her quills gently enough to reel him in before he got too far. It worked, reality slamming into him with a rush that left him breathless. There was one more thing that had to be done before he collapsed into himself. This one. His knocks were hesitant and terrified--yet audible. She greeted sooner than he was prepared for, leaving him floundering. Anything he could say was going to be useless. Just like him. Whatever came out of his mouth to others was useless, forgettable. God, what was he doing?
He looked at her then. Eyes red and puffy, posture straight, clothes neat, fresh tear marks: the picture of quiet misery sealed away for others benefit. There was a lot he didn't understand about her, but he knew that she gave up a lot for others, for him who had been the brunt of her sacrifices in the last few months. There came a time when taking stopped and giving began, even if you were afraid the giving was going to be shoved in your face. Realizing that running away was no longer an option, he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
"Misato, I--. About Kaji-san. I'm sorry. He was strange and said and did strange things, but he was always nice to everyone. And you cared about him and. Well. I'm really sorry."
The long seconds of silence were solid between them. Shinji had never felt close--well, that was a lie. He had felt close to her, but never close enough. Not close enough to understand. He still didn't when her resolve of normality broke and she burst into tears, grabbing him about the shoulders and sobbing into his shirt, but maybe that was okay for now.
That was okay.