damned_institute | Dayshift 49: Bus 2

Entry tags:

Dayshift 49: Bus 2

Morning hit without warning, with the sheer knowledge hitting the Digimon before anything else that today they were going back to Doyletown. Her feet hit the floor and she rotated her right shoulder experimentally. The skin stretched tight, soreness persevering, but it moved fine. She stretched her fingers then curled them into a fist, staring at the tanned skin that was her right arm. If something happened this time... She would be more useful. Her mind replayed the events of last week, and Renamon stilled, considering.

There wasn't much time left to her as the nurse bustled in with an armful of clothes, the same shade as the weeks before. The woman murmured a cheery complaint that it was too cold for skirts and left Renamon to change. The pants were preferable to the past two weeks, though the other item she was left with gave too much to irony. She frowned at it for a minute, then slid it over her head, reflecting that this motion in days or weeks past would have left her shuddering. It meant she was becoming used to this human body, and that was nothing that boded well. She grabbed her notebook before being led to a bus, and slid into a seat halfway down the aisle, pressing against the window. Again, the previous night had been more than short. Was it just her, or was there something more to it?

[for Haseo!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Shinji found himself jerked out of his reverie almost violently. He turned from the window with a start and stared up at Kaworu for a long moment. He was here. He was safe. He wasn't in that entry plug, pinned and examined like an experiment. A sense of intense relief eased through him and Shinji managed a smile. Even the hovering nurses didn't phase him this time. "I... y-yeah! Of course. I'd... I'd like that."

A moment later, he dropped his gaze, face burning as he realized he'd been staring at the small bandage just visible through the layers of clothing. Even if he'd seen it last night - the raw wound, two pinpricks in the smooth, unblemished skin - it still made him remember the reality, the coppery smell of blood and LCL. He shifted in his seat and pressed against the wall. He knew there was more than enough room for Kaworu to sit, but he wanted to make sure the other was comfortable. He wanted the other to be safe. He'd already died for Shinji once. Shinji didn't think he could stand the idea of having Kaworu die for him a second time.

Kaworu didn't factor in the extra space that Shinji had given him. He sat as close to the Lilim as he would have, so that he felt his elbow brush against Shinji's through the material. It was only a small moment, but it felt more substantial than his own weight on the seat of the bus.

It was the second time he had sat here. The first was with Kanji. Later, violence had consumed the town. No one seemed to acknowledge it now. Kaworu wasn't sure if he believed it, but he believed that he was sitting with Shinji, to perhaps spend a day with him. Recreational time, between him and Shinji. There were no outside expectations now. They were not tied to any need but those they imposed upon themselves, and one another. It was novel. There was nothing Kaworu felt that he needed to do. The disquiet in the back of his mind had hushed in his close proximity to Shinji.

Kaworu could smile now, even if it lacked energy. It didn't mean less. Shinji was a constant. He was in Kaworu's broken memories of the night before, and now was so close. His ability to recall the dreams came and went, sometimes sharp, sometimes dull. Some things became clearer as he looked at Shinji. "I had not intended to leave you," he said after a moment of consideration.

Shinji felt the brush of contact through the layers and it made something inside of him jump and then settle, a soft glow of happiness underneath all of the anxiety and misery and fear and depression. It was something of a relief. It was something bright on the overcast day; a flash of color in a world that had become colorless and dull. Despite the embarrassment and shyness that made his cheeks burn, he managed to let his gaze rest on Kaworu's hands. Bony, thin, like his own - he could see the muscles, the bone underneath moving and shifting. He was tempted to cover it with his own, as Kaworu had done to him once, if only to feel it. They were so similar on the outside - the same shape, the same thin frame - but Kaworu was different. Always assured, always calm and content and at peace (or at least it seemed to Shinji).

Kaworu's words penetrated and he glanced up, a bit startled. He knew it was true - he hadn't doubted it, not since he'd found Kaworu in the odd, truncated entry plug. Still, some part of him had feared it (irrationally, he knew) and Kaworu's words settled that small part of him, smoothed away the fear an anxiety, if only for a moment. He smiled weakly. "I... I know... I'm just glad that you're OK."

His gaze dropped again, this time lingering on the bandage. He felt weak this close to him. That strange, elusive emotion always seemed to be present when he was with Kaworu. Maybe one day he could say something about it.

Right. And then he would risk pain again. Risk being hurt. But wouldn't it be better to make a choice?

Edited 2010-04-14 04:46 (UTC)

"I am," he agreed. He didn't hurt. He still existed, as much as he ever had, and Shinji said he was glad for it. If Kaworu allowed his mind to go deeper, he found dissatisfaction, and so he withdrew into the present. It was a comfortable place, with Shinji there. The hum of voices around them further wrapped him up in the moment. The comfortable feeling of time passing next to the Lilim. This Lilim. Shinji Ikari.

Kaworu looked intently at him, observing the small details. He had seen them before. He was absorbed by them each time, caught up in what they suggested under the surface. They meant so little. Shinji could appear as any other Lilim, and would still be Shinji. Yet, Kaworu had made an attachment to this face. This smile.

"It is the connections to others that allows an individual to be aware of their self," he stated, eyes still trained on Shinji. His thoughts returned to the slow realization the night before, when he found it was Shinji holding him, speaking desperately, rousing him. It triggered something that he couldn't name. "You came for me."

Shinji blinked and looked up at Kaworu again as the other boy spoke. Of course he'd come for him. He'd been worried about Kaworu. He'd been afraid. No, he'd been terrified that Kaworu had decided to shove him out of his life - and later terrified that Kaworu had left him again, that he'd failed another friend and let him die. That feeling had reached it's apex last night when he'd pulled the limp body out of that eerie entry plug mock-up.

He swallowed nervously as his eyes met Kaworu's and for a moment or two held his gaze, fighting the urge to look away or curl into a ball or do anything that would make him less vulnerable. Every time he looked at Kaworu like this it made him feel naked, like the Angel could simply peer through him and and into him, peel back his thoughts and see Shinji Ikari bared before him. It was uncomfortable sometimes.

He finally managed to reply, biting on his lower lip. "O-of course I did..."

His shoulders slumped again, voice quiet - barely heard over the noise of the other patients and the bus. "...I care about you. I... I don't... I don't want you to get hurt."

And now Shinji was about to see if he was going to be hurt again.

Edited 2010-04-14 23:28 (UTC)

Kaworu heard him. A word or two was lost to the crowd, but then easily inferred. Caring. A sense of protectiveness. They were familiar concepts, and he understood how Shinji felt them. The Lilim was afraid to lose what little he had gained. In a world which had taken so much, he held onto what he could, fearing its inevitable loss. He was left with the decision to release and abandon what was his, so that the pain would be controlled, or to defend it. This person of assigned importance. He had decided to defend them. To shield them from hurt, if he was able.

That person was Kaworu. It was him. This was how Shinji looked at him. Kaworu remained silent as he considered, but it was not knowledge that fit easily. He had no place for it. Nowhere to let it grow. He was left holding it tentatively in the front of his mind.

"You risk yourself, in holding someone close. In nurturing a connection, and in protecting it, you give it greater worth." Kaworu spoke automatically. His eyes remained on Shinji's for as long as Shinji allowed. "You know that then, if it is severed, the pain will be increased by your efforts to prevent that. And yet, while it is present, you aren't alone."

He stopped a beat, and his eyes wandered to Shinji's shoulders. The soft rising and falling of his chest. Something else came to him, unnaturally. An awkward, but undeniable sentiment. "...Thank you, Shinji."

Shinji knew all of that and he felt miserable because of it. He didn't want to get hurt, he didn't want to have to try. If he didn't, though, then he would lose Kaworu. He hated having to choose like this and he detested himself for being weak. He probably couldn't "protect" Kaworu. Shinji was only Shinji - worthless, in the end - and in risking pain he had just made himself more vulnerable.

He didn't want Kaworu to die again, though. He knew that much. He didn't want to have to go through the pain and turmoil and horror of having another one of his friends dead or hurt because of him. Even if he wasn't any good, he could try to protect them. Maybe Shinji would end up dead instead of one of them. That idea was acceptable to him. He wouldn't love behind many people to mourn him and he wouldn't feel any more pain. Maybe that was for the best.

"I... I just don't want you to... get hurt..." He trailed off, mumbling weakly. He glanced at Kaworu again, fingers working nervously.

"I feel safe." Kaworu smiled at Shinji, for Shinji. What he felt, even in the unpleasant undercurrents, was not fear. This would calm Shinji. It was an expression of ease, one that he hoped to share. Yet, he knew they were not safe. There were stories. Kaworu had been taken. They could take Shinji. The unsteadiness that had been left in him by the Lilim the night before increased. Still, he preserved his smile, keeping it steady and soft.

Kaworu's eyes were drawn towards the small movements of Shinji's hand. Without thinking, he reached out for it. It was a common gesture between them, and one that he sought without any need. Only want.

Anxiety traveled up his fingertips like electricity. It took effort to hold his hand there. He was exposed, and the emotion that washed over him was raw and painful. Even more so, with this proximity. Someone so close. Someone disarming. Nothing was clear. He couldn't sort out one from the other, and expression was too hard to grasp. He couldn't speak to expose his feelings, with rejection lurking in wait. What could he do? Nothing. It was the constant threat of failure. He was useless, worthless. He was scared.

Kaworu's eyes focused again. He was staring at his fingers, laid between Shinji's. Beating faster than before, his heartbeat was now noticeable to him. Nothing changed, even as he waited. Seconds passed, and he remained. "Don't be afraid," he murmured breathlessly.

"Oh. Good..." He trailed off again and stared down at his lap (although he saw Kaworu's smile out of the corner of his eye; it was reassuring). He had no idea what to say or what to do now. He was just... there. On the bus, wrapped in second-hand clothing and afraid that he was going to do something horribly wrong, even if Kaworu just smiled at him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the feeling of misery that followed him where ever he went. Kaworu was here, that lifted his spirits. Asuka was somewhere behind him and even that made him feel a little better.

Then he felt warmth encompass his hand and he realized (with a start) that Kaworu had covered his own again. The gesture he had only thought of doing but hadn't dared to try. He could feel his heart beat pick-up as he tried to think of the right reaction. He could do nothing (which was safe) or he could try to do something (which was a risk). Either way, pain. He swallowed nervously, trying to calm his beating heart. Kaworu's words reached him and he sunk into his seat and dared to look at Kaworu again.

"...I... I don't know how not to be scared."

He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away again. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless.

Kaworu adjusted his arm, and the grip he had on Shinji, to something more comfortable. A position he could keep for as long as he was permitted. The ghosts of those emotions - Shinji's - still brushed against the edges of his thoughts. It reminded him of how he had woken up before, still held by Shinji.

"I suppose it is impossible," he admitted, features softening. "Fear is what motivates. If Lilim did not feel afraid of consequences, there would be nothing. No fear of loss, no fear of inaction. Life would pass without any meaning. It's natural to be afraid."

He stopped, and tightening his hold on Shinji's hand gently. A slight squeeze, meant to say something more. However, he still needed words. Kaworu took a moment, but not out of hesitation. It took time to organize what he wanted to express in a satisfactory way. "It is only that I dislike when you are sad. I'd rather see you smiling."

Another deep breath and he dared this time to return the faint, small squeeze. He tried to draw comfort from Kaworu's proximity instead of anxiety and fear and nervousness. Kaworu cared about him. Kaworu wanted him to be happy. But it was hard, especially here in this strange place - maybe even more difficult then it had been back in Tokyo-3. He trembled, shivering under his borrowed clothing.

"...I know. I know!"

He was reminded of the Sea of Dirac and the questions he had been asked.

"...but I don't have anything..."

That wasn't strictly true. He should have been happy about Kaworu and Asuka and Rei. That was something, wasn't it?

Kaworu could sense the vehicle coming to a stop underneath them. Had he not felt the same thing? An absence of more, perhaps. His own life, filled with singular goals, filled with Shinji. That was what he had now. He was not without, but he lacked self. It did not leave him unhappy, as it did Shinji, so maybe it was not the same. Only similar words to express a different feeling. Shinji was lonely, behind the walls he erected. There was safety in his isolation, but no satisfaction.

The Lilim around them began to rise, but Kaworu only leaned into Shinji until he was pressed up close against him. He wished to suppress the shiver he had seen. Smother it, until Shinji was still and calm. "Will you stay with me?"

Shinji slumped slightly as he felt the bus come to a halt. The ride had gone by so quickly - he'd hardly noticed that they'd left. He had to come to terms with everything. He had to figure this out. There was too much and before he could stand he felt Kaworu pressing against him and there was comfort in the feeling of a body pressed against his own. Weakly, he grasped at Kaworu's jacket with his free hand, clung to him for a moment as he took a deep breath. He looked down, seeing a jumble of clothes and for a moment he just sat. Maybe he should've stayed in bed today.

"...yes."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dayshift 49: Bus 2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject