How vulnerable humans left themselves. How obvious. Kaworu wondered if Shinji even knew. Part of him must have, he must have been consciously begging for somebody to take responsibility away. These were all observations on Kaworu’s part, and now that he had noticed these things, he could have manipulated those factors to his advantage quite easily.
For example, he could say ‘If you want to make up for what you’ve done then you can just stay in this city with me forever’. That was not an entirely bad premise, it meant the two of them might be happy together here living in some kind of idyllic dream. It would certainly make Kaworu happy.
His own personal happiness though, was never a factor he took into consideration when calculating the ideal end result. The same is true now, as Kaworu realizes he had been passively thinking for too long, and Shinji had moved to slump against him. Kaworu raised his arms and without hesitation wrapped them, as thin as they were, around Shinji’s shoulders.
“Shinji-kun, you’re so kind as to cry over the death of a person like me. I thought I told you once, there’s no sin that cannot be redeemed. As long as we’re together…”
Kaworu looked at Shinji then, his smile soft but easy to see on his lips.
“What I want is… for you to be happy. That’s what you should do, whether you’re looking in this city, or looking outside of it. If it’s towards the place of your happiness, then I’ll guide you there. So, when you calm down, please tell me the last things you remember. I bowed out a little early, as you already know, so I don’t know what happened next. Let’s take our time, and understand these things together.”
That’s right, all that he’s done cannot be brushed away like dust. What he has done to Kaworu, to Misato, Asuka, everyone is stained on his soul and follows him wherever he goes. So far from his home, so far from the EVAs and the Angels and the Third Impact, so far from everything he knows and yet the guilt weighs on him. He feels his shoulders slump with every reminder of the end of the world. All of them are dead now, but for what?
Happiness, does that actually exist?
Shinji questions Kaworu’s words. Never in his life has he had a taste for true happiness. What does it feel like, he wonders. He closes his eyes, unsure of how to respond to Kaworu’s wishes. Fourteen years, almost fifteen and Shinji cannot even fathom was it joy must be like. He has learned to fake happiness, smile when others smile back at him, laugh when a joke is funny, enjoy the company of others. At the end of the day, he crawls back into bed, turns on his Walkman and begins to drown.
Kaworu’s smile is visible to him and the corner of his lips twitch slightly in the attempt to copy his motions. It doesn’t work, not this time, he can’t fake it now. He looks away, slightly disgusted with how Kaworu can smile. He is different, he isn’t human, but does that mean beings over than humans can achieve happiness? If that’s true, what’s wrong with me, Shinji asks himself, why can’t I be like that?
His thoughts trial off, a defensive mechanism he’s practiced to avoid breaking down in public. He muffles the intruding thoughts and puts himself in a trance like state. It’s one of the few ways he can find his composure in difficult times. He wishes he had his music.
Five minutes pass by before Shinji pulls himself off Kaworu. It is obvious improvement has not been made, but he is indeed calm. Kaworu asked him a difficult question, one he isn’t sure he could answer properly. He stares at the white and black keys of the piano, letting the recent memories flood his mind and allows his mouth to move on its own.
“They stormed in,” he starts, refusing to go in as who they are, “they came in with guns and they started to kill everyone--” violent images of blood and corpses flash in his mind. He squeezes his eyes tightly and grips at the side of his head. “Everything went to hell, Kaworu, everyone died. No one is left but Asuka and I-- and I tried to kill her. T-that’s the last thing I remember. There with Asuka. Alone.”
