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Shinji straightened up and tried to smooth out his rumpled clothing. While he would never complain about a hug from Misato—even if Asuka would, and currently was—she had squeezed the two of them so closely that Asuka’s shoulder had been digging into his upper arm.
“Honestly, you’re overreacting.” Asuka crossed her arms, eyes peering warily from beneath squinted brow, a few paces away from the older woman lest she attempt another surprise hug. “It’s not like we’ve never been alone before.”
“You haven’t, not since I’ve been back.” Something washed over her face and it seemed to Shinji that standing in front of them was the Misato Katsuragi who had just returned—eyes red and brimming with tears as she apologized and swore promises and held them tight. But it was gone as soon as it happened and once again she was the Misato they had known since.
“I’m allowed to miss you guys. And worry. That’s part of my job.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Asuka turned her head in a vain attempt to hide her blush. Shinji smiled at the sight. “You can’t miss us if you don’t leave!”
Misato sighed. “I know. I just wish at least Kaji could have stayed with you while I did this dog and pony show for the UN.”
“We don’t need a babysitter!” Asuka had her hands on her hips. Shinji reached over to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“We’ll be fine,” he said to Misato. “It’s only two days.”
“I’ll be counting the minutes until I get back.” She flashed a smile. “I bet whatever catering they have at this thing won’t compare to the lavish meals you’ve been spoiling us with.”
It was Shinji’s turn to blush.
“I just get bored without much to do,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Plus, Asuka helps.”
“If I didn’t insist on helping, we would have fish for every meal.”
“It’s good for you.”
“Stop distracting from my goodbye!” Misato cleared her throat and stood tall, every inch the Commander Katsuragi she was at work. “Asuka, you’re in charge while I’m gone. No parties, and I want this place spotless when I get back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Asuka said, smirking and tossing a lazy salute.
“Ok. Good.” Misato lunged forward and threw an arm around both their shoulders again, giving them a brief squeeze despite Asuka’s protests, and kissed Shinji on the cheek. “Goodbye,” she said, pulling away to stand straight again. Her lips tightened as she sighed, still not turning to leave.
“Goodbye, Misato,” Shinji said in tandem with Asuka. He knew, and he suspected Asuka did as well, what Misato was struggling with. “We’ll miss you. And we love you.”
Asuka grumbled out something that was probably an agreement and Misato blushed a bright red, hurrying to turn around and step out of the door.
“ByeguysbesafeI’llbebacksoonIloveyou!”
The door shut behind her and the sound of her footsteps—and the rattling of the small wheeled suitcase she dragged behind her—faded as she approached the elevator that would deliver her to the ground floor and the waiting car the UN had sent to pick her up.
Asuka’s arms were around him before he had time to turn away.
“Finally,” she whispered in his ear, her voice sending a shiver down his spine. He returned the hug, leaning into her as one of her hands reached up to tilt his head down. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and breathed her in, planting a kiss there.
“Now that we’re alone,” he tried to work his way up her neck, jaw, cheek, wherever, gently kissing as her voice buzzed in his brain, but the hand at the back of his head held him in place, “I have plans.”
And then she was gone, working free of his embrace with all the agility and grace she had honed from years of training. Shinji sighed and tried to compose himself. There was no sense in getting worked up, or hurrying. They had plenty of time. He started the walk further into the apartment, intending to find Asuka and finish what she started, but paused when his phone buzzed at him from within his shorts.
He flipped it open to reveal a text message from Misato: You’re really in charge. Keep an eye on Asuka. I love you guys.
Smiling, he sent her a reassuring reply and pocketed his phone again, resuming his trek to Asuka. It was a short walk to the apartment’s kitchen—empty, as he had expected. He continued through the living room and down the hall to the bedrooms, passing by his own to stand in front of Asuka’s door.
He was reaching up to open it when it slid aside to reveal her. He raised an eyebrow at the sight—conspiratorial smirk, faux innocent eyes wide and beseeching, one arm hidden behind her back. He had expected to find her on her bed, wearing far less, and—
“Shinji,” her voice was breathy and light as she raised the hand not behind her back up to his chest, “I need you. Please, you have to help me.” She took a step closer and he put his hands on her hips.
“Anything.” As if he could say no to her. He pulled her into him and leaned down—she squeaked into his mouth as he kissed her, but she was returning it almost immediately. After far too short a time, she pulled away, holding a finger to his lips when he tried to kiss her again.
“Not that, though I like where your head is at,” she told him with a giggle.
“Oh.” Shinji cleared his throat. “Uh, what did you have in mind?”
Asuka laughed again and Shinji smiled. There was hardly a sound he enjoyed more in the world, and the way her lips curled up in a genuine smile, her nose scrunched up and her eyes crinkled—she was beautiful.
“This.” She swept her arm out from behind her to hold something in the limited space between them.
“Oooook.” Shinji tilted his head as he looked at it. “What’s that?”
“Schnapps!” She was dangling two small bottles—they didn’t look big enough to hold even a mouthful—by their short necks, pinching them between her fingers. When Shinji simply raised his eyebrows at her, she clinked them together. “It’s liquor, Idiot.”
“Asuka.” He tried to temper his voice, but by the look of disapproval on her face he knew his apprehension must have been evident.
“Shinji.” Her eyes were locked on his, twin pools of bright blue that were deep enough to drown in, looming larger, larger, as if he was falling into them—and her face was a hair’s breadth away from his. She was on her tiptoes, leaning into him, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder while the other dangled down, still holding the bottles.
“I—” he was cut off as her lips captured his in a kiss that was too brief.
“They’re opening a school soon. They’re making us go.” Her words washed over his face.
“I know.”
“This is probably the last night of freedom we have without Misato around.”
“Asuka.” Misato had specifically told him to keep an eye on her. That almost definitely included preventing her from drinking while underage.
“Come on, Shinji,” Asuka whispered, her hand trailing up to his collarbone and slipping behind his neck. She tilted his head down to press her lips to his ear. “Just tonight. For me?”
“Ok, fine,” he said, and Asuka gave a small cheer of triumph as she pulled away from him and held up the bottles again.
“This is going to be a great night,” she informed him, taking a bottle in one hand and offering him the other.
Not really sure what to do with the tiny glass bottle, he mimicked Asuka as she twisted off the top and held it up towards him. She clinked hers against his, said “Prost!” then downed the whole thing in one swallow. She grimaced, scrunched up her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, then let out a hoooooooo of air from her mouth that wafted over to Shinji, smelling strongly of alcohol.
“Well?” She jutted her chin to motion at his still full drink. “It’s rude to cheers and not drink.”
Shinji wasn’t sure if that were true—he wasn’t familiar with drinking etiquette in general, given that it never came up in his life—but he figured there was no reason to doubt her. He lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, letting the liquid fill his mouth.
Immediately, his eyes widened and he had to fight not to splutter. The taste was awful, like some kind of antiseptic, or maybe kerosene, and a sensation almost like a chemical heat was building in his mouth, pooling at the back of his throat, burning its way up to his sinuses—
“Swallow, Idiot!” Asuka was smiling at him as his eyes began to water. He gulped down the schnapps and started coughing, barely managing to cover his mouth to prevent Asuka from being covered in spittle and droplets of booze.
“That was disgusting.” He could feel the wind of his words as they blew out of his mouth, carrying the scent and feeling of the alcohol from his throat over his tongue and out his nose and mouth. He struggled not to gag.
“That was,” Asuka reached for his hand and gently removed the bottle from it, squinting at the label in the dim light, “peppermint. Mine was cherry.”
Shinji shuddered. Already, he could feel a slight heat in his gut. It was actually kind of pleasant, but every time he breathed out he got another taste of alcohol.
“I’m glad that’s done.”
“Done?” Asuka laughed and turned back into her room. Shinji watched her rummage in her closet—it was a mess, but she insisted on him not touching it no matter how pronounced the twitch in his eye became whenever he saw it—and pulled out a wicker basket, some sort of cellophane or plastic covering it. Except for a hole ripped in the thin material. The basket, he could see once she came back to present it to him, was full of more bottles. “We have plenty to drink tonight.”
The pleasant warmth in his chest was still there, but it was joined by a dread sinking down to meet it.
“Where did you get so much, uh—”
“Schnapps.” Asuka grinned, the conspiratorial expression making Shinji feel like he was 14 again and about to be dragged into something he didn’t fully consent to. “You know how the German ambassador calls all the time.”
“Mister Eissler,” Shinji nodded. He didn’t actually call often, but Asuka was always irritated when he did.
“Mister Einzeller, more like. Anyway,” she looped the handle of the basket through her arm and tugged Shinji along with her as she walked into the living room. “He still hasn’t given up on trying to lure me back to Germany.”
“Mmm,” Shinji nodded as Asuka set the basket down on the small table and gestured for him to sit. He leaned over to inspect the bottles as Asuka sauntered over to the cabinet containing the television, stereo, and other assorted media players.
“The Fatherland’s prodigal daughter.” The German government had been pressuring Asuka to return to her homeland ever since Germany had reestablished contact with Japan, barely a few months after Third Impact.
“Right.” Asuka snorted out a laugh. “It has nothing to do with them playing me up as the hero who died trying to stop the evil conspiracy from ending the world.”
“You are a hero.”
“And so are you.” Her voice was sharp, definitive. He couldn’t help but smile—they had had the discussion before. A few times. “And so are Rei, and Misato, and so many others.”
“No argument from me.” Shinji leaned back with his hands flat on the ground behind him, simply watching as Asuka fiddled with the music player.
“Good.” Music started playing, quiet, and it took him a moment to recognize it. Some German group, he thought, one that he knew Asuka liked. He didn’t mind it, and he had learned to keep his opinions on it to himself—he had compared it to the kind of music Misato listened to, and she had not appreciated being called old.
“They sent this a few weeks ago, another one of their bribes.” She fished into the basket and pulled out two more bottles, glancing at the labels before holding one out to him.
“They’re persistent.” Shinji took the bottle and inspected the label for himself. It was, unsurprisingly, in German. And despite having a personal tutor, his reading comprehension in German was rather poor. Lessons tended to devolve into extracurricular activities that had little to do with learning languages.
“They’re stupid if they think they can use me as some political pawn they can parade around to lend legitimacy to whatever they do.” Asuka unscrewed her bottle and took a seat next to Shinji, leaning against him. She held up her drink and tipped it slightly towards him.
“Prost,” Shinji said, having opened his own bottle already. He clinked it against Asuka’s and, having learned his lesson, quickly brought the bottle to his lips, threw his head back, and tried to down the drink as fast as he could.
He spluttered and coughed as Asuka laughed and gently pounded on his back. His throat and mouth burned, and there was something almost like a medicinal taste coating the inside of his mouth.
“That was worse!” Shinji blinked rapidly, trying to clear the feeling of chemical heat from his sinuses and from behind his eyes, pushing air in and out of his mouth in a hah-shah-hah-shah rhythm.
“Aniseed,” Asuka told him, smirking. “I had cherry again.” She kissed him on the cheek and bent forward to grab more bottles. Shinji wanted to be upset—clearly she was deliberately giving him the bad ones—but the pleasant warmth had crept up his belly and was grasping for his limbs and he was actually feeling pretty comfortable and relaxed.
“Here,” she said, passing another bottle. “Peach this time.”
Shinji frowned at the label but still couldn’t read it—in fact, his head was feeling a bit heavy and hard to balance.
“Should we slow down a little?” Despite his question, he had already opened his drink.
“What, you can’t handle your liquor?”
“No!” Surprising himself with how forcefully he responded, he cleared his throat and ignored Asuka’s sniggering. “I can handle it.”
“Good.” Asuka nestled back into his side, sighing contentedly when Shinji wrapped an arm around her to hold her close. She used her free arm to hold up her bottle. “Prost!”
“Prost,” Shinji repeated, quickly holding his up next to hers before drinking it. He tried to savor it—not like he did his first one, holding it in his mouth, but not gulping it down as fast as possible to avoid the taste.
It was to no avail. Grimacing, he swallowed and exhaled heavily through his nose, the resilient taste of alcohol permeating his face and mouth.
“I didn’t taste any peaches,” he grumbled into the top of Asuka’s head. “It just tastes like alcohol.”
“You lack the refined palate of a sophisticated adult,” Asuka informed him, tugging his arm tighter around her as she twisted herself half into his lap to face him. “Let me taste.”
“Wh—” His question was swallowed by Asuka as she descended on his lips, which parted to admit her tongue. He hardly had time to react before she pulled away from him, smiling at the disappointment he didn’t bother trying to hide on his face.
“You taste like peaches,” she told him.
“You taste like alcohol.” He leaned forward, almost sending her off balance, but she recovered and placed her hands on his shoulders and straddled his legs. He held her by the waist and raised an eyebrow at her. “You must have a more refined, sophisticated palate.”
“You just need practice.” In an impressive display of flexibility, balance, and core strength, Asuka leaned backwards and reached over into the basket on the table behind her, straightening back up with two more bottles. “Pick one,” she said, holding them in the small space between their chests.
He reached for one, not even bothering to glance at the label, and nearly fell over when he picked up the arm that was placed on the ground propping him so he could unscrew the top.
“Prost,” Asuka almost purred, clinking the bottom of her bottle against his. He raised his to his lips in tandem with her, both quickly downing the contents.
“What flavor did you have?”
“You tell me,” Shinji told her, licking his lips. He only tasted alcohol, but he found he was getting used to the taste.
Asuka kissed him again, and he was kissing her back, and again it lasted not long enough.
“Apple,” she said, confidence in her voice and smile.
“Still just alcohol,” Shinji admitted.
“I suppose you need more practice.”
“Will you help me?”
“Gladly.” Asuka leaned into him again and Shinji’s hands cupped her cheeks as they kissed.
———
Music flowed quietly through the room, taking the place of the soft conversation that had slowly petered out—its frequent interruptions to drink and kiss finally giving way to being dropped altogether as both participants settled into the cozy comfort of snuggling together while the warmth of the alcohol pervaded their senses.
Shinji was glad for the reprieve. There was still plenty of alcohol left to drink, but he was already feeling like they had probably consumed more than they should have. Misato’s voice reminded him that she had left him in charge, and that the amount of alcohol they should have consumed was none. But when he looked down at Asuka, her head nestled against his chest, which was buzzing as she hummed and sang along to some English lyrics about a dancing queen, he struggled to summon the willpower to deny her anything.
“Hey.” He squeezed her a bit tighter and she broke off her accompaniment to crane her neck and look at him. He was already feeling warm, and relaxed, and happy, but the sight of her bright blue eyes, open, accepting, with none of the guarded caution and hidden anger and self-loathing from before, and her tranquil smile that just made her face that much more beautiful—he felt like he could get lost in that moment, just the two of them.
“What?”
Her question brought him out of his ruminating—a prodigious feat, as he could feel his head swimming better than his body ever did, no matter how many lessons Asuka gave him.
“I love you.”
“Duh.” Asuka’s smile grew and a blush spread across her cheeks. The arm she had around his back tightened and she buried her face into his chest. “I love you too, Idiot.”
Shinji leaned down to kiss the top of her head, breathing in deeply the scent of her shampoo, tinged just a little bit by the smell of alcohol and sweat. His heart felt nearly full enough to burst. He had to be the luckiest guy in the world to be there, holding the girl he loved, the girl who loved him. He let himself fall backwards to lay on the ground.
“I was comfy,” Asuka grumbled.
“I’ll make you comfy again.” He used the arm she had landed on to roll her on top of him, eliciting a thrilled squeal from her. His other arm reached up to press her against him as she settled comfortably into him.
“This is nice.”
“Yeah.” Something about laying down made his head spin even more than it had been earlier.
“You know what would make it nicer?”
“If we were naked like this.”
Asuka laughed, the sweetest sound in the world. He smiled as she thumped his chest.
“Ok, smart ass. That too. But I was thinking we could have some more schnapps.”
There was that voice again—Misato reminding him that he was supposed to be keeping Asuka out of trouble. But the feel of Asuka against him, warm and alive and so damn beautiful, was far louder.
“Good idea.”
“All my ideas are good ideas.” She wiggled in his arms. “Let me up, Idiot.”
Instead, he flipped them over so her back was on the ground and moved his arms to pin her in place. He was kissing her before she could say anything. She still tasted like alcohol, as he assumed he must as well.
After only a few moments, Asuka pushed him up and he pulled back.
“Save it for later,” she told him, the look in her eyes promising mischief. Their little escapade had resulted in them rolling away from the table where the drinks awaited them, so Asuka stood up—and swayed in place, one arm wheeling frantically in little circles as she fought for balance. Shinji laughed but was ignored as she took the few necessary steps to close the distance to her goal.
“Get over here.” She gestured to the ground next to her as she flopped down to sit, two bottles in hand. Shinji scooted across the floor to lean against her side and took one of the bottles.
“Prost,” Asuka called out, and Shinji clinked his drink with hers, then gulped it down. He smacked his lips.
“I don’t taste anything.”
“Let me try it,” Asuka said, grabbing his chin, pulling his face to hers, and kissing him once again.
———
“Cherry.”
Shinji fought to stop himself from swaying. “Huh?”
“It was cherry.”
He found he couldn’t both listen and not sway, so he let himself sway.
“What was cherry?”
“Your last drink.” Asuka was laying on the ground beside him, six bottles of schnapps arranged in a tower beside her.
“My last drink?” Thinking of what to say was hard.
“Yeah. Cherry.”
“You said it was—uh. Cinnamon.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Shinji sat up, his head whirling and vision taking a moment to catch up with the rest of him.
“That was three drinks ago.”
“Huh?” Pen Pen waddled into the living room and Shinji was filled with the intense need to hug him. Did the little guy know how cute he was? Did he know how much he loved him? He needed to be informed.
“Cinnamon!”
Shinji didn’t have the attention to spare for whatever Asuka had just said. He was staggering to his feet, finding it very difficult to balance, but determined to reach his sphenisciform friend. With lurching steps, he approached the penguin, who had ambled over to the two drinkers and was inspecting the pile of discarded bottles.
“Are you listening to me?”
“No.” Pen Pen looked up at him and warked once he finally stood in front of him. “Pen Pen,” he said, swooping down. He had intended to scoop up the bird and hug him to his chest, but he had overbalanced and nearly fell on him instead. He managed to redirect and land on the ground next to him, the impact sending the nearby bottles rolling away, and Pen Pen waddled over. Their positions were now reversed, with Shinji looking up at the penguin looming over him. “Wark,” he told him, then started laughing.
Pen Pen cocked his head to the side as Shinji struggled to laugh, breathe, and sit up simultaneously. Once he managed it, he finally reached out to envelop Pen Pen in a hug.
“You’re so. You’re cute.” Shinji squeezed the bird against his chest, rocking in place as he sat on the floor and Pen Pen flapped furiously. “Did you know that? Did you? That you’re cute?” He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against the smooth feathers atop his head. “I love you, Pen Pen.”
“Hey!”
Shinji’s eyes snapped open at the sudden interruption, and he dropped Pen Pen out of surprise. Asuka was on all fours directly in front of him—Pen Pen was waddling back into the kitchen behind her, warking indignantly as he went—and judging by the angle of her eyebrows and the set of her mouth, Shinji figured he was in trouble.
“Umm. Hi.” He licked his lips and tried to focus, a difficult task with how much his head was spinning.
“Cinnamon!”
“Cinnamon,” Shinji agreed. He had no idea what she was talking about, but it seemed important to her. And she liked to be right. There was no harm in just going along with her.
“Yeah.” Asuka crawled forward a little towards him then collapsed to the ground onto her back with her head in his lap. Shinji started running his fingers through her hair and rubbing her head while she made contented sounds.
“Asuka,” he said, eyes transfixed on her face. Her eyes were closed, gently, not screwed shut, and her features were relaxed, and she had never looked so amazing.
“Yuh.”
“You’re really pretty.”
Her lips curled into a smile that made his chest feel even warmer than the alcohol had kept him so far.
“Yuh.”
“Yuh,” Shinji agreed. He struggled for a while to stay seated and not collapse backwards. His whole upper body seemed intent on constantly changing its center of gravity. But Asuka looked comfortable, and he would do anything to keep her that way.
He wasn’t sure how long it was before Asuka broke the silence—minutes, hours, days—to tell him, eyes still closed, “I’m thirsty.”
Shinji looked over to their basket, which was still about half full. It was impossibly far away.
“I’ll get you a drink,” he promised her. He gently lifted her head and tried to scoot out from beneath her, not doing a great job of leaving her undisturbed. But he was on a mission. He dropped Asuka’s head on the floor—she mumbled a “watch it” at him—and struggled to get his feet under himself.
Once he was standing, he started his methodical, wobbly walk to the table and grabbed the first two bottles he could get his hands on. It was another treacherous trek back to Asuka, who was still laying on the floor. He looked down at her and tapped her with his foot. “Up.”
“Five more minutes.” She rolled onto her side, away from him. He shook his head, which she didn’t respond to. Which might have been a bit rude, but he forgave her because he loved her.
“No. Up.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“I have drink. Aren’t you thirsty?”
“Oh.” He could hear Asuka smack her lips, then she was fighting gravity—which looked to be rather shifty for her, something he was experiencing himself—to sit up.
He held out a bottle to her and she whispered her thanks. She opened it and drank, Shinji following suit, but by the time Shinji was looking around for the collection of empty bottles to add to Asuka was grimacing and sticking her tongue out.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Shinji said. She was the one who could tell that stuff. He couldn’t even taste the alcohol anymore. “Can I have a taste?”
“That was retorti—retorsional—that wasn’t a real question!” Asuka wiped her mouth on her arm. “It was aniseed. I wanted water.”
“Water.” Shinji looked in the direction of the kitchen.
“Thirsty,” Asuka said again. He heard a thump as she presumably fell back to the ground.
He had a new mission. Asuka wanted water. The water was in the kitchen. He moved his feet, the room spinning around him, trying to concentrate on not falling over as he made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t just his head roiling, his stomach felt like it was somersaulting around inside him as well. The movement of walking was proving to be detrimental to his health.
But Asuka needed him. Only he could get the water for her. The floor beneath him was the tile of the kitchen, and he knew his destination had to be close. He blinked and looked around the room, trying to remember where the water was. The sink, that would be right. Which was, where?
There. Against the wall, near the fridge. He walked, shuffled, really, towards it, reaching a hand out to the counter to steady himself once he was close enough. His other hand grasped the handle of the faucet and turned it to let the water flow out. He grinned. The objective was in sight.
But how to get the water to his Asuka? He cupped his hand and let it fill with water, but it all spilled out before he could even turn around. There was no way he was making it all the way back to her with any water left. A cup! That would be perfect. He just needed to—
“Shinji,” Asuka’s voice called weakly from the living room. “Help.”
Shinji was already moving back to the living room, whatever he was doing forgotten. What had felt like miles of walking to get to the sink now felt like no distance at all as he was already back in the living room, kneeling next to Asuka.
She was on all fours again, her shoulders shaking like she was crying, and Shinji felt his chest and throat tighten in empathy. He reached a hand out to rub her back and she turned her head to look at him. Oh, she had not been crying. Her eyes were a bit red, and there were tear streaks down her cheeks, but it was evident from the mess still dribbling down her chin that the tears weren’t caused by sadness, but by exertion.
“I frew up.”
He pulled her into him and held her, doing his best to avoid the puddle of vomit on the ground. But even when he felt his clothes contact the mess, he didn’t care. He was more concerned about rubbing Asuka’s back and telling her she was ok.
——–
He wasn’t quite sure how they had ended up in the bathroom, with Asuka grasping the rim of the toilet and him holding her hair back as she occasionally emptied a little more of her stomach. But he could feel that he was more sober than he had been. His brain told him that probably meant it had been at least a few hours since their last drink.
“Shinji.” Asuka’s voice was muffled by the porcelain bowl her face was hovering over.
“Mmm.”
“I feel better now.”
“I’m glad.” He hated seeing her sick. He wished he could have taken all her nausea and have had it for himself instead.
“I wanna go to bed.”
“Let’s brush our teeth first.”
———
Shinji awoke the next morning wishing that he had not. His head was killing him. His mouth was so dry he was sure he had to be severely dehydrated. He had to pee so badly that he was worried his bladder was about to burst. He wasn’t even laying the correct way on the bed. Asuka was half on top of him and half hanging off the edge of the bed, and he was laying sideways on it.
He shimmied out from under Asuka who growled incomprehensibly and curled up into a ball once he got to his feet. He decided to leave her for now and try to sort himself before anything else.
Leaving Asuka’s room, he walked down the hall into the living room and froze at the tableau in front of him. All the lights were on, only standing to make the mess that much clearer. Empty bottles littered the room, there were clothes scattered around—a quick glance down at himself confirmed that, yes, that had been the sock he thought he was wearing, and the shirt—and the wicker basket he remembered Asuka proudly showing him last night looked like a bear had been trying to get into it.
And right in the center of the living room was a puddle of drying, crusty, foul smelling vomit. His stomach, already feeling sensitive, was starting to turn at the thought that he would need to clean that up. Misato would be home tomorrow. If that left a stain, he was dead.
You’re in charge, Misato had informed him. He hated being in charge of things.
Deciding that it couldn’t get more stained, Shinji walked away, towards the bathroom. He would take care of his more pressing needs, maybe make breakfast. Find some pain killers. And wake up Asuka so she could help clean. He groaned when he got to the bathroom and saw the mess in there.
Just how much had they had to drink?