Only one soldier could go. Everyone knows that this was suicide, an honorable death, and only if they succeeded. Shinji shifts from foot to foot, the gun feels far to heavy in his hands.
He’s fifteen and he’s never kissed a girl, never been in love or seen New York. All he can think of is all the living he has yet to do.
Shinji shudders as glances come his way. How many have labeled him weak, useless? How many of them wish for him to be nothing more than canon fodder? His helmet hangs low, enough to shade his eyes and conceal the fear that dwells there.
“I’ll give you all this one chance, step forward, be a hero and make history!”
The commander looks directly at him as he says this, Shinji knows it. His hands shake and he grips the gun tighter, lest he drop it.
Beside him, he hears a voice break through.
“I’ll go,” Kaworu says.
Kaworu smiles back at him and all Shinji can feel is relief. He finally breathes again, slow, his lungs aching. He watches as Kaworu is outfitted for the final charge, the bombs, the weapons. Kaworu is strong enough to be no mere short diversion, no cannon fodder. Perhaps he would even live.
Shinji should feel guilty and he should feel regret but for that moment all he can feel is relief. He is fifteen and his life is spared for a moment more, he can walk father, only over the bodies of others.
5. the summer before They met one summer and were near inseparable. It all happened so fast, Kaworu came into him Shinji’s life, and since then he followed everywhere. They seemed a mismatch, yet somehow fit despite the differences.
They spent every day of that summer together. Swimming in streams, exploring the woods. Kaworu often slept over, they always shared beds then. The sheets were sweaty and it was too hot to share, Kaworu lay beside him, their thin legs touching. The days felt so long and yet so short – years and minutes all in one.
They spent every waking moment together, until one day, Shinji returned alone.
He never could tell what happened, or how his clothes came to be covered in blood. He couldn’t speak, even to tell of where his friend had disappeared to. The mere mention of Kaworu’s name sent him into hysterics.
He was hospitalized shortly after, when Misato found him curled in a ball, holding himself while staring unblinking at the wall.
Gendou was away, as always. When he heard the news, he made arrangements. They were well kept, to anyone who asked, the world at large, his son was dead.
In white rooms Shinji stared blankly at the wall. Over and over he heard the last words, repeated ad infantum. Kaworu’s words, the last he would ever hear.
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momijizukamori
Five Ways Kaworu and Shinji Never Lived Happily Ever After Together part two
Date: 2008-07-09 08:09 am (UTC)4. how you survived the war
Only one soldier could go. Everyone knows that this was suicide, an honorable death, and only if they succeeded. Shinji shifts from foot to foot, the gun feels far to heavy in his hands.
He’s fifteen and he’s never kissed a girl, never been in love or seen New York. All he can think of is all the living he has yet to do.
Shinji shudders as glances come his way. How many have labeled him weak, useless? How many of them wish for him to be nothing more than canon fodder? His helmet hangs low, enough to shade his eyes and conceal the fear that dwells there.
“I’ll give you all this one chance, step forward, be a hero and make history!”
The commander looks directly at him as he says this, Shinji knows it. His hands shake and he grips the gun tighter, lest he drop it.
Beside him, he hears a voice break through.
“I’ll go,” Kaworu says.
Kaworu smiles back at him and all Shinji can feel is relief. He finally breathes again, slow, his lungs aching. He watches as Kaworu is outfitted for the final charge, the bombs, the weapons. Kaworu is strong enough to be no mere short diversion, no cannon fodder. Perhaps he would even live.
Shinji should feel guilty and he should feel regret but for that moment all he can feel is relief. He is fifteen and his life is spared for a moment more, he can walk father, only over the bodies of others.
5. the summer before
They met one summer and were near inseparable. It all happened so fast, Kaworu came into him Shinji’s life, and since then he followed everywhere. They seemed a mismatch, yet somehow fit despite the differences.
They spent every day of that summer together. Swimming in streams, exploring the woods. Kaworu often slept over, they always shared beds then. The sheets were sweaty and it was too hot to share, Kaworu lay beside him, their thin legs touching. The days felt so long and yet so short – years and minutes all in one.
They spent every waking moment together, until one day, Shinji returned alone.
He never could tell what happened, or how his clothes came to be covered in blood. He couldn’t speak, even to tell of where his friend had disappeared to. The mere mention of Kaworu’s name sent him into hysterics.
He was hospitalized shortly after, when Misato found him curled in a ball, holding himself while staring unblinking at the wall.
Gendou was away, as always. When he heard the news, he made arrangements. They were well kept, to anyone who asked, the world at large, his son was dead.
In white rooms Shinji stared blankly at the wall. Over and over he heard the last words, repeated ad infantum. Kaworu’s words, the last he would ever hear.