[From
here.]
It had been a significant walk to the hotel, but Kaworu had enjoyed it. The rain was light, enough to chill him, but it was an element of the picture. The mood was dreary, but Kaworu had a lightness inside of him. This town was alive. Even in the weather, the residents moved around them. Cars on the road drove past. Storefronts held owners and patrons. Individuals, existing alongside one another, but all as a singular unit. Dependent upon one another. Even separate, Lilim could not exist alone. The energy was infectious, and he couldn't resist a smile or a periodic question posed to the one he had linked arms with. He couldn't know enough, and yet he wanted nothing more. Warmth traveled through his hand, up his arm and into his heart, from where he remained connected with Shinji. The thought of breaking it reminded him of the deep, cold feelings of loneliness and worthlessness. They did not feel like his own, but he wanted to keep them at bay. So he held on.
His other hand remained in his pocket, shielded from the rain. He looked up, and saw clouds for only a moment before the water that fell into his eyes forced him to turn away again. It was so clean. Everything was whole. The brief moments he knew of Tokyo-3 seemed more real, but this was more attractive. A community alive. Himself, alive. Shinji walking with him.
Kaworu was unsure if this was where he belonged. It was not a life that he had ever been meant for. His past was in sterile facilities, isolated, and his future was nonexistent. But here, he was living as a Lilim, and Shinji permitted it although he knew the truth. It was enjoyable. It was part of why Shinji's presence was absorbing. He looked at Kaworu as if he belonged. Many Lilim gave him that look now. However, seeing it in Shinji still meant more.
"Have you lived somewhere like this before?" he asked as they approached the tall, stately building. He couldn't disguise his own excitement and interest. It was subdued, but apparent. The doors and what laid beyond them looked inviting.