Work Text:
There are flashes of something, colors and lights, sounds of people and laughter and music, all of life flickering before him. He’s somewhere, everywhere, and then he’s nowhere; all at once.
Kaworu finds himself floating in a red sea; he starts to ascend until he breaks the surface, taking a long and steady inhale of sterile air. He looks upward, at the night sky that seems so bright that he can see the beach up ahead as clear as day.
The man proceeds forward; swimming, and then wading, then walking until he takes his very first steps back on Earth, shoes sinking into the soft white sand. The dead sea washes behind him, the water drying as he stands for a long moment, observing the world that he had not seen in such a long time.
He looks at the group of Lilin who watch him carefully a few meters away.
Kaworu wonders where Shinji is.
He wonders why he was brought back into a world that had conquered the Angels. A world that wasn’t fit for his kind any longer. Him and his children weren’t capable of living in a world that was dominated by the Lilin, a world made for them.
Yet, he was here.
He was here.
The team of Lilin approached him, marking their descent down the dune they stood upon with a hello.
With some chatter, they welcome Kaworu into this world. They explain some things to him, they direct him towards a road that, down the ways, he could see a small makeshift settlement is built. He can see further along this patchy, wrecked road is more settlements, leading all the way into the crumbling remains of a city. He can’t put a name to where he is, what city that may have been, but it doesn’t so much matter to him as it would for the Lilin.
The group offer to help him make it to a settlement where he can get his life started over again or if he’d like to stay with the party until the next group arrived for their rounds.
They explain that all of them are a part of the “recovery” team, a group of people who patrol the edges of the sea, waiting for people to come and reform. Waiting for more souls to come back from the murky, red depths.
He thanks them with a curt bow and says that he needs to find someone. He doesn’t need to specify who and they don’t understand who he means when he turns to leave, but that seems like how things go in this world. A world after Instrumentality.
He walks along the cracked edges of the road, watching as the stars.
Kaworu thinks of Ikari Shinji. He thinks of the man he was born to meet.
He thinks about how he was reborn to see him once more.
------
He watches the way the moon glows in the dark night sky and how the stars wind around it, the Milky Way twinkling. He breathes in the air, smelling fire and food as the settlement beside him lives and tries to thrive.
He hears people talking, chattering, and somewhere beside him is a dog, running around the place with an excited yip.
He turns his gaze from the stars and over towards the group of people talking to one another. A woman with blonde hair pauses and stares at him, her pale lips twisting back and forth.
He remembers her but can’t put a name to the face.
They both continue to hold their gaze, watching one another with polar opposite reactions. He holds not malice towards her but he knows that she feels that way towards him. He supposes if she were important enough for him to remember, he knows that she must understand what he is and what he poses to humanity.
Kaworu allows himself to look away to think about it, about the impact of his return would be upon this planet. He imagines that there are two ways thing can go from there.
He steps past the group, the woman wordlessly following him with the track of her eyes, before he leaves the encampment and back into the wreckage. The world is rebuilding, regrowing.
He thinks that there are two ways his existence can go: he is unable to survive in a world suited for Lilin and he dies, or, he is the catalyst for yet another Impact.
Kaworu finds himself disturbed by the thought of bringing the end to the Lilin. He truly loves them, they are everything he isn’t, and he hates the idea of bringing upon their destruction. There’s a sick feeling in his chest as he realizes that, despite the chance to be with Shinji again, that his being here might be… quite bad.
He isn’t accustomed to this feeling, the sense of deep dread. Angels don’t feel these things. Kaworu feels an inkling of worry, a small sensation in him that he knows was the human in him.
He tries to settle the feelings by singing, humming a tune he remembers being taught when he was being raised in that facility so long ago. He hums as he walks down the broken and cracked road, following the hints of where it used to wind.
The feeling eventually settles and disappears, his eyes trained up at the Milky Way.
-----
Kaworu walks for what feels like months, though he understands that it isn’t nearly that long. He finds it uncomfortable to find himself feeling hunger and frequently has to stop himself to rest and regain energy.
His previous body didn’t feel the need for these things. He isn’t sure why he had been like that at the time, since his body was human while his soul wasn’t and it confuses him now.
He follows that road, heading towards a crumbling city. He follows along the path of the Milky Way, feeling a certain pull towards it that he isn’t sure what it means. He gets a vague sense that it will lead him to Ikari Shinji and so he trusts the feeling in his stomach and follows.
Kaworu stops in his tracks, his worn shoes finally starting to undo. He stares down at them, blinking several times so, before he smiles wearily and slips them off. He continues along the side of the road, feeling uncomfortable with the way the rocks and debris pokes into his feet.
He sings, a soft, light tone that doesn’t carry too far. He wraps himself into his thoughts, eyes still pointed upwards. He sees Polaris twinkling above and he sees the streak of red that seems like it will forever mar the skyline. He ignores the way Lillith looks at him with her dead eye, the split down her face sending a chill of unease through him. He looks back upward, back at the smear of stars, and finishes up his small song.
He stops again when the soil grows softer under his feet and he glances down. Under his toes is a healthy plot of soil, looking rich and dark with fertility. He hadn’t seen soil like that in a while, all of the ground before him looking pale and dry. Kaworu glances up, looking at the small pond that has started to regain its color. It’s a vibrant green-brown, like swamp waters, and all around it are small plots of land marked with stakes made of debris at their corners.
A small farm, made from makeshift materials.
He smiles, charmed by the abilities of the Lilin to thrive even in the harshest of conditions, before he continues on, making sure to step out of the path of the seedlings.
He sings again, a song about sunflowers and watermelons. He sings a song that comes straight from his mind and out of his mouth, about eating a seed and watching the sprouts bloom from his veins. He sings about his body rich with life and how that life springs from him, leaving vines and sunflowers after every step.
There’s a man up ahead who is crouched over a plot, tugging at the invasive species of plants that are surely trying to take advantage of the rare spots of land where they can grow. Kaworu doesn’t pay him much mind but does note that he stops in his tracks at the sound of his approach.
He can’t see the man’s face with the way his hair hangs in front of it. As he approaches even closer he can see the man’s hands are shaking, violently so, before the tremors spread across his body. He falls to his knees.
Kaworu pauses for a second, blinking at him.
The man looks up, tears streaming down his face and Kaworu feels his heart take a heavy beat, chest aching dangerously.
Ikari Shinji cries onto the soil under him, fat teardrops rolling down his cheeks. He looks much older than how he did the last time Kaworu has seen him and Kaworu momentarily catches himself thinking that he might actually be older as well. He stops the train of thought with a sharp snip and watches as Shinji brings his hands up to his face and weeps into them.
He hates to see Shinji this way, it makes his heart bleed, but he’s trapped in the spot, those vines he’d sung about ensnaring him into the soil below. He tries to move but is frozen, a sharp pain jolting through his chest. He reaches a hand before him, fingertips trying ever so hard to get closer, to touch Shinji and reassure him, but his reach can’t make it.
He notices as well that the song he had birthed had died with the revelation as well. He’s ready to start again, to touch Shinji with his voice if his human form couldn’t, but finds his voice to be trapped as well.
They stay that way for a long moment, Shinji crying into his hands while Kaworu pathetically stands there, watching with fear in his heart.
He doesn’t understand. He wants to approach, to embrace, to give Shinji the love that he still clearly needs… but he can’t. He’s terrified.
For the first time Kaworu understands entirely how Lilin can be so cold to each other.
He snaps himself out of his snares and as he’s about to step forward, Shinji speaks.
“I thought you were gone forever,” it comes out in a wet, shivering whisper.
He fumbles in a forward step, finally free. Kaworu lands on his knees next to Shinji, looking into this eyes of his, cracked with red blood vessels, and he feels his stomach churn. He wants to say something right but the first thing that pops into his head isn't a sentence of comfort but one of selfishness.
I thought I was as well.
He swallows it down and places a hand firmly down on Shinji’s. They stare into each other’s eyes for a long time, taking each other in.
Shinji is, definitely, older than he was when Kaworu had seen him trying to figure the fate of all life on Earth. He can see the creases on his forehead, the sunken in state of his eyes, and the way his adam’s apple bobs as he tries to settle himself.
Shinji stares at him, hand trembling under his, before his whole body seizes up tight. His face draws very serious, reflecting a look that Kaworu has seen upon Ikari Gendo’s face, and he starts to dry his tears with his free hand.
With a deep inhale, he looks down briefly before looking back into Kaworu’s eyes. “We should,” a pause, “We should go inside.”
Kaworu finds his voice just in time to reply with a small and very gentle yes and finds Shinji helping him to his feet, as opposed to the other way around. They head towards the outskirts of the fallen city, hands held.
-----
Kaworu watches as Shinji slips his shoes off and is about to offer to take Kaworu’s when he notices that he doesn’t have any on. He’s silent for a long moment before giving him a weak smile; it’s strained but there is a small hint of sincerity in his eyes.
They’re both quiet as they look at each other. Outside the wind hits a piece of metal and makes a whistling sound, echoing across the rebuilding world.
“I’ve missed you, Shinji-kun,”
Kaworu is surprised to find himself being the one to speak first. The words flow from him like water spilling down slate, guided by the smooth surface, down down down.
Shinji looks away instantly, his hands balled into fists. They unfurl before tightening back up again, unfurling again before tightening up into fists once more. He continues to clench his fists and release them until he finally takes a sharp inhale and glances back over.
“I never thought I would see you again, Kaworu-kun,”
He smiles, absolutely in love with the fact that Shinji still uses the -kun honorific for him. He feels the familiarity seeping back into him, the brief and powerful time they had together back when they were teenagers. He feels memories wash over him like a warm wave, fluffy seafoam of emotions curling and bubbling around his heart.
“I never thought I would see you either,” they step closer to one another, instinctively, like the draw of iron shavings towards a magnet.
Shinji looks away, ears red but face clear. He’s matured and Kaworu finds himself curious in what ways Shinji has changed.
Angels never got the gift of age. They were much alike Lilin but so very different. Like a coin, each side different but their base the same.
Kaworu laughs to himself, carrying his voice across the room. He feels confidence fill him where it hadn’t before, the words coming easier, the feelings filling him to the top before he feels them start to overflow. Grasping upon Shinji’s hand, he smiles wide.
“Yet here we are… Shinji-kun,”
He stares down at his hand, grasped firmly inside of Kaworu’s, before he balks. He doesn’t pull away but his hands are clammy and he clearly looks nervous.
Kaworu releases him. He blinks several times. His heart feels like it’s cracking as Shinji retreats towards the small kitchen that sits on the west side of the building.
Shinji leans against the counter, elbows locked straight, back hunched as he doesn’t look over at him.
Kaworu feels a swirl of emotions, all of them marbling and mixing inside the cauldron of his brain. Sadness creates the base and large strands of fatty confusion fill him as he watches Shinji silently stare at the counter. He tries to reassure himself that this is just as Shinji is, that he’s still Lilin and that Lilin fear the pain that comes with closeness to others.
Like glass, he remembers.
But… there’s that small illogical side of him, the human inside, that feels upset at the concept of Shinji not wanting to receive his love. That’s what this is really about, Kaworu understands. It’s about loving and being loved, about accepting another for who they are in totality, not pieces.
Kaworu can’t say he’s ever felt loved outside of the affection he had felt from Shinji all that time ago. It’s addictive, he admits, and that his draw to Shinji might have been solely inspired by the want, maybe even need, to feel loved again.
He pads across the room, foot falls quiet, and stops by Shinji’s side. He reaches, wanting to touch him and feel the warmth of that touch, but stops himself. Feeling strange, he hovers by him before asking in a hushed tone, “Would you like me to leave?”
Shinji flinches before he quickly lifts his head, hair that usually hangs in his face flipping to the side, leaving an opening for Kaworu to feel the fear that was emanating from his eyes. He goes to speak, stops himself, goes to speak again, and fumbles out a small “no, don’t leave,” before hanging his head.
They don't move. They’re facing each other still, hesitating, while Kaworu feels that stew of emotions stir inside.
He’s never felt like this before. Kaworu struggles to put names to the sensations, the tightness in his chest and the way it sparks down his arms and crackles in his fingertips. He struggles to understand the yearning he feels to be close to Shinji, to hold him and draw him inside of him, consuming his troubles until he’s in a place that isn’t quite as bad. He struggles to understand the yearning but also the hesitation he feels despite it.
Kaworu quells the feelings once more, knowing that despite the surge of unfamiliarity that was being pushed upon him he had to stay strong. He is here for Shinji first and foremost.
“May I hold your hand?” He finally asks, not daring to reach out until Shinji accepts.
Shinji doesn’t reply, he simply extends his hand, fingertips trembling, and flinches only slightly when Kaworu holds it.
He gives a steady squeeze, attempting to be reassuring and firm, and is rewarded with Shinji seeming to settle. He pulls his free hand over and clasps it over Shinji’s, holding him between his two hands securely.
“Things have changed so much, yet things are still the same, aren’t they Shinji-kun?”
Quiet. Then a reply.
“I don’t kn-... I.” A pause, “I suppose so,”
Kaworu nods, catching Shinji looking at him from behind his bangs. He closes his eyes, listening to the wind whistling outside and to the soft sounds of Shinji breathing.
They don’t move for a long moment, pulses syncing between their connected hands.
-----
This world moves so slowly compared to how it had before.
Kaworu watches as a bug crawls along the floor of the small building that Shinji has deemed his home. He smiles at the small insect, intrigued by its path.
It follows along the cracks and edges of the tiles. Kaworu wonders if it’s searching for crumbs and scraps that have stuck inside those cracks or perhaps the bug is simply following along a pleasurable route, much like how humans instinctively follow the most used path.
Across from him Shinji stares out the window, idly working a piece of cloth between his hands. Kaworu finds that it bothers him that the textile is red.
They had gone out the day before and haggled away some of the watermelons Shinji is growing on his small crop of land for a pair of shoes. They fit a little strange but they’re sturdy so Kaworu settles with them.
He helps Shinji tend to his watermelons, watching them swell over time in their small patches until they eventually grow to a hearty size. Kaworu asks why he grows watermelon to which Shinji replies in a soft, hushed voice, “They remind me of someone,”
Kaworu doesn’t pry.
He finds himself feeling strange as the days go by, humming his music and learning how to mend garments that they scavenge. He feels a sense of sadness but also joy when he’s around Shinji; happy to be near but terrified at the same time. He wonders if this is what Lilin feel all the time.
Kaworu still doesn’t understand how or why he’s gotten onto this plane of existence but he spends most of his time trying to ignore the thoughts that tap at the back of his mind about it. They are persistent, he doesn’t deny that, but he knows at the same time that if he focuses entirely on Shinji… well, he won’t have to think about things at all.
Shinji consumes his entire day, night, and all that is in between. He eats and sleeps near him, tends to his crops with him, talks to him and sings to him and accepts the small looks that Shinji gives him.
Shinji doesn’t speak much but Kaworu knows that he never spoke much to begin with. Not without some sort of turmoil driving his words from his heart to his mouth or some social obligation to. Instead, Shinji seems to watch Kaworu with a guarded heart.
Kaworu can see the cracks in that guard however, sees it clear as day. Spending time with Shinji shows; he wants to open up, to be close, but his history-- his trauma-- makes it hard for him to do so. Kaworu knows that he instinctively closes off the instant he’s aware something good could come from a relationship, especially after the events of the first time he had opened himself to Kaworu, and Kaworu minds only in a small way.
He minds in the sense that Shinji hurts and thus hurts him in return. Like a smoke emanating from his person, Shinji’s agony and mistrust seeps from him like a burning log, mixing in with the air around him before it wraps itself around those who try to be close to him, suffocating them.
Kaworu keeps his head high though, knowing that he can survive it all as long as he has a will to live.
Shinji allows him to hold his hand and he can feel the nerves through the contact. He doesn’t try to let it bother him but there's that small nagging in his mind that reminds him that things could be so different.
But he understands and loves Shinji. He just wants to make things better for him and if he had to sacrifice his own comfort to do so… well, he was willing to do it.
Shinji shifts from his spot in front of the window and turns to look over at Kaworu.
He looks away from the small bug and up at Shinji. He can tell there’s something in the back of the man’s mind that he desperately wants to spit out. He can tell by the way his eyes flicker as they try to read the expression on Kaworu’s face, the way his hand grips tightly to the red cloth.
Allowing Shinji the time he needs, he watches as Shinji lowers his head.
His body tenses before he looks back up.
“You won’t leave me like Asuka did… will you?”
Kaworu’s heart breaks and he stands. He approaches Shinji and reaches for him. Shinji meets him halfway, hands grasping his in a desperation that makes Kaworu feel so many things at once that he can’t put a name to any of them. As his heart spins, he focuses on Shinji, eye to eye, face to face, and says with the strongest conviction he’s had yet:
“I will never leave you, ever.”
-----
That day is different than the others. As Kaworu and Shinji tend to the watermelon, Kaworu hears from his side the sound of Shinji dropping a large watermelon that had been nestled in his arms. It falls the the ground and with a wet thwunk as it splashes into the mud, cushioned by the softness of it.
He looks up, stunned to see that there’s an older woman looking back at them with a terrified expression on her face. In her arms is something wrapped in brown paper.
“M-Misato?” Shinji stutters.
Kaworu feels the memories come back, of the woman and their time at Nerv. He remembers her overseeing them, ordering them, and taking care of Shinji.
He feels guilt flow over him, thick like an artist putting down the base coat of paint onto canvas. He stays down, kneeling by the crops, but he can’t help but stare at her as her eyes lock from Shinji onto him.
Her eyes say to him, “Why are you here?” and his reply with, “I’m not sure,”
She marches over to them and looks at Shinji with a stern look upon her face before she thrusts the package into his muddied hands. In a second she looks like she’s about to cry. Katsuragi watches him closely for a moment before turning, closing her eyes and stepping away from them without another word.
Kaworu watches her walk away, following the broken road until she vanishes in the horizon.
Shinji doesn’t tremble as he, too, watches her leave. He instead looks down at that package in his hands before silently stepping towards his domain.
He follows after him.
Shinji’s already made it inside by the time Kaworu reaches him and he carefully opens the door, peeking inside. He sees him standing, arms trembling like they do when he’s gotten upset over something.
Kaworu walks in, closing the door behind him quietly. He notices, as he takes his shoes off, that Shinji still has his on. They’re muddied. He can’t see what’s in Shinji’s hands.
That is, until Shinji turns and presents the object in question to him.
A red plugsuit.
Kaworu feels his chest ache. He didn’t know her at the time but he is very well aware of the second child… no, of Asuka. He knows her favorite color and the way she talked and how she was just as Shinji was.
They held a relationship that was toxic, Shinji admits as he looks down at the suit in his hands. It’s small, ripped, and Kaworu tries to decipher what it means; why Misato had given it to him.
Shinji smiles a painful smile as he squeezes his hands, closing them into the material tightly. “This must mean she’s gone,” he says and tears start to spring at the corners of his eyes.
Kaworu steps forward. He sighs before slowly reaching a hand over and rubbing it against Shinji’s back. He listens as Shinji cries, listens to the things Shinji vents about her, and eventually they find their way to his bed where Kaworu hums him a song as Shinji lies down.
Kaworu can feel the depression starting to seep into Shinji, the way his eyes are growing lifeless as grief over a presumed death overcomes him.
They stay like that for a long time and Kaworu hums the song that he had sung when Shinji had first met him. He knows it selfish but in the back of his mind he hopes that it’ll spark a memory, any memory, of them together. He hopes it reminds Shinji that he’s there, then and now, for him and forever will be.
But Shinji just cries a river of tears that drowns Kaworu out.
-----
As the land grows more fertile around them, as the concrete that once dominated the area is chipped and broken away, Kaworu goes out and gets more seeds to sow. He has to ask the people in the settlement what is best planted in which season but he comes back to Shinji’s home with a bag full of new crops and a slight smile in his heart.
He’s really starting to enjoy the small tasks he does to take up time in this new world. He remembers how life before this was mediocre-- in hindsight at least-- and how much of his time was spent listening to others, superiors, and thinking about meeting the man he was born to meet.
Shinji… doesn’t do much these days, Kaworu laments as he stops inside to check on him. Most of the time Shinji spends his days sleeping or watching out the window, struck by grief.
Katsuragi Misato hasn’t shown up since.
He places the small satchel of seeds down on the table he had traded for not a few weeks before and takes a seat down by Shinji’s bed. He feels the ache in his back as he does so but ignores it in favor of looking over at the man who had entrapped his heart.
Placing a hand down on his, Kaworu sings a song that comes to him. He sings about a small red bird who struggles to learn how to fly. Accompanying him is the sound of birds chirping outside, slowly reinhabiting the world.
Shinji’s eyes are hazy and he doesn’t respond.
Kaworu finishes his song, waits for twenty minutes, and then stands. He glances down at the bundle of cloth that makes his bed, on the other side of Shinji’s, before leading himself outside once more.
He sits upon a small stool they keep out and he looks down at the grass that has started to grow.
He tries not to think about things and finds himself occupying the time with other things, fantasies and singing songs with very little thought put behind them. He cooks and sews and tends to Shinji when he can.
Mostly he just wanders, going from settlement to settlement. He hates to admit it but he’s looking for Asuka, or a sign of Asuka, something to bring back to Shinji to show that things are okay. Things are worth living for again.
But he doesn’t find the woman.
He does, however, find many different Lilin to talk to. The world, in the state that it’s recovering from, has grown… Kaworu can only describe it as eager. Eager to share and connect with others, eager to rebuild, and eager to help.
He shares and trades away the crops that he’s grown while Shinji struggles to recover. He learns many things from these Lilin, these people, and he shares what he can as well. He isn’t all too surprised to find that a settlement next to where he and Shinji reside starts to welcome him like family.
He is, however, amazed to find himself considering them the same way.
With time, he tends to Shinji, taking care that he eats and encourages him to bathe and drink and live… but also he tends to himself as well. He finds himself talking with people simply to talk to them and his thoughts about Shinji fades as he learns more about these people and their lives.
He loves Shinji with all his heart. He was born to be with him, that much he’s almost stubbornly holding onto. But he starts to feel a little guilty whenever he comes back from the town over and finds himself beaming at the people that he had visited with that day. Only to find Shinji staring, blankly, out the window with a frown etched deep into his features.
Kaworu looks over at the small farm, noticing the way the weather has started to come back to how they had said it was before the Second Impact. The seasons are starting to change.
He picks himself up as the air becomes chilly and walks inside, ready to make him and Shinji their dinners.
Inside, Shinji is sitting at the edge of the bed. He looks up at Kaworu for the briefest of seconds before looking back down at his empty hands.
Outside it starts to rain.
-----
Kaworu brings a bag full of fresh carrots from their farm to the town over and chats with a small woman who goes by the name of Sakura. She’s younger than him and smiles in a way that tells him she’s a kind and patient person. He likes her quite a bit.
He barters for some rice and a new blanket before heading back to their home. The roads on the way back have been repaired and and he’s heard talk in the town that resources are becoming so readily available that it’s suggested cars and other means of transportation might become viable again soon.
Kaworu doesn’t mind either way, as long as he has his small plot of land and Shinji by his side.
As he slips back inside, the clouds rolling in overhead, he can see instantly that Shinji is up and about. He hadn’t seen the man get up and actually do something in such a long time that Kaworu drops his new items and watches with wide eyes.
Shinji is weakly cooking something, movements sluggish and weak but movements nonetheless. He looks over at Kaworu with a small expression, weak, before looking back down at the food before him.
Kaworu can’t see what’s in the pan but he can hear a crackle and a slight smell that reminds him of the morning. Eggs, his brain supplies as he struggles to catch up. He blinks once, twice, before noticing the cold wind pushing him deeper inward, fumbling over the large blanket and bag of rice, before allowing the door to shut behind him.
He approaches Shinji and sees that there are two eggs frying in the pan, neatly separated and cooking evenly, apart. He looks from them up at Shinji who doesn’t move.
The eggs crackle as Kaworu watches him, lips trained in a silent line.
Shinji sighs deeply before flipping the eggs over. He makes a small sound as one of the eggs breaks and yellow yolk spreads out from under it, cooking away.
Kaworu smiles weakly and stands beside him, placing a hand over Shinji’s.
He doesn’t react for a long moment. But then he does, leaning against Kaworu, head against Kaworu’s shoulder.
The oil in the pan, along with the eggs, hiss.
“Thank you,”
Kaworu strokes Shinji’s hair before gently hugging him, drawing him close. “Thank you for what?” he asks as calmly as he can, trying to not let the first words from Shinji make him too excited.
It had been too long since he had heard his voice.
Shinji shuffles but doesn’t pull away. He takes his time, working on what to say, before replying, “For everything. Taking care of me when you didn’t have to. Making sure my watermelons were okay… for not leaving,”
Kaworu nuzzles into his neck and hums that same song that he has sung a million and one times before.
Shinji cries, crumpling under his touch and to the floor.
The eggs start to burn.
“It’s okay Shinji-kun,” he says gently, kneeling down to be on his level. He hugs him again and Shinji wraps his arms around him with a hungry desperation, pressing against him like he was desperate to merge.
“I’ve been so cold to you Kaworu-kun, I’m so sorry,”
He smiles, rubbing his back in a wide, circular motion. “It’s okay,” a whisper, “I’m never leaving you ever again,”
Shinji cries; the eggs blacken, left unnoticed between the two embraced.
-----
Kaworu lays beside Shinji in their bed, looking up at the ceiling. He remembers Shinji telling him of unfamiliar ceilings and Kaworu counts his blessings that this one is not one of them.
Shinji sleeps beside him. He’s almost in a sound state but Kaworu knows that he tosses and turns, knows that sometimes the memories and nightmares take control. But it’s okay, Kaworu thinks as he rolls onto his side, looking at the face of one Ikari Shinji. It’s okay because he’s here.
-----
He digs his hands deep into the moist soil and pulls a carrot out, looking with a pleased expression over at Shinji. He holds a basket out to Kaworu, in which he places the carrot in place with the others, before he turns back down to start plucking the others from their place in the earth.
A car passes by their land and a woman waves at them as her and a few other people in the car pass. They shout hellos as they fade away, disappear along the horizon.
Kaworu smiles at Shinji’s smile and feels his heart warm up.
-----
They’re visiting the sea for the first time since they had both emerged from it, holding hands as both of them look out at the blue waters. Life has returned, fish and mollusks and all sorts of creatures they couldn't readily spot with the naked eye coming back to occupy the sea.
The city nearby has already begun its preparations for full repair and people were slowly bringing things back to a sense of normalcy.
Shinji holds Kaworu’s hand and smiles at him, a genuine one at that.
Kaworu’s heart hasn’t felt a terrible pain in weeks and he feels himself filling with hope over the future.
He tells Shinji that he loves him and Shinji replies with the same sentiment.
They walk along the white beach and Kaworu blinks as he sees a figure over the waters.
Ayanami Rei stares at them, quiet and unjudging, before she vanishes from sight with a blink of Kaworu’s eyes.
He turns to Shinji to see if he saw the apparition as well but Shinji is busy looking at the seagulls that are flying by. He hums a song that resonates through Kaworu’s heart and he feels a sense of joy and lightness fill his limbs. He’s practically floating as they continue their small walk along the beach, content.
Kaworu still doesn’t quite get why he was able to come back but he doesn’t question it much these days. Instead, he tends to the farm, hands calloused and covered in earth, and thinks to himself that there’s no other way to be than to be with Ikari Shinji.