Chapter Text
It started as a way for Shinji to punish himself.
He figured that, being such a worthless waste of space, he might as well be sure to minimize how much space he wasted. So he stopped bringing lunches to school. When Touji and Kensuke asked about it, he merely shrugged and made up an excuse.
“I woke up late this morning, so I didn’t have time to make myself a lunch,” Shinji said. His friends ignored the fact that Asuka still had a lunch. They both knew she didn’t possess the kind of culinary skill required to put it together.
“We didn’t have many groceries… Misato hasn’t visited the shop in a while,” he confessed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Touji and Kensuke had known him long enough to identify when he was lying -- the blush creeping around from his ears to his cheeks was a dead giveaway.
“I ate a big breakfast this morning, so I’m not hungry right now.” This excuse was punctuated by a growl from his stomach that made it all the less convincing. Once he got tired of trying to come up with excuses, Shinji stopped sitting with them for lunch altogether.
“I’m not feeling up to talking today, guys,” Shinji said morosely, looking towards the clouds above him. The sun was burning his face and blinding his eyes as he tilted his head in its direction. Normally, the trio sat under a tree in the courtyard for lunch. Their conversations were a break from the monotony of Shinji’s typically morbid thoughts, and he found it comforting to be able to talk about nothing for a whole thirty minutes. It let him get away from himself. The problem was that Shinji couldn’t bear to push Touji and Kensuke away and also couldn’t bear to keep them close.
“Alright, Shinji. Hope you’re feeling up to par soon,” Kensuke said. He sounded uncharacteristically quiet and sincere. Shinji felt some sort of guilt at hearing his tone of voice. I’m only trying to make myself disappear, and I somehow still manage to ruin things.
“Hit me up if you want to ride bikes or something later,” Touji added. Shinji nodded absently, still avoiding eye contact, and wandered in the direction of the nature trail. Touji looked towards Kensuke and the two shared a meaningful glance. It had become clear to them since meeting Shinji that he wasn’t an entirely stable person, and also that he preferred to suffer in silence. With this in mind, they had both started to worry, though neither wanted to say it directly.
“Something’s up with him,” declared Touji. He flopped onto the grass below him, hands supporting his head as he glared at the sky. Kensuke mirrored his actions and hummed in agreement.
Shinji found walking the nature trail to be another adequate place to escape his thoughts, anyway. The pain could be poetic instead of raw if he thought about it while dappled by the light that fell through a canopy of trees. I’m burning more calories by walking during lunch than sitting, too, said the voice that had started to take up residence in his head as of late. He had started enjoying the pangs of emptiness in his stomach because they signified his proficiency in starving. He liked to know how disciplined he had become. The hunger was the one pain he had control of, and he liked feeling light and pure. Sometimes standing up made him feel like he was walking on air; the desks would swim in front of his eyes and his lips would buzz. It meant his efforts were successful. Stepping on the scale and seeing he weighed half a pound less than last time meant he was successful, and watching his bones as they began to protrude from his wrists meant he was successful, too.
Misato and Asuka didn’t seem to notice much out of the ordinary so far. Shinji was careful to keep it that way. He kept making their food the same as always, giving himself smaller portions and only eating half.
“Shinji, are you really full after that? You’ve barely touched the rice,” Misato asked one night. Shinji stiffened imperceptibly. Rice had too many calories to eat.
“I think the antidepressants are taking my appetite away…” he replied, hoping Misato would blame his tenseness on the fact that he hated to divulge details about his treatment, mental health, personal problems, thoughts, feelings, and opinions. She seemed to buy it and nodded sympathetically.
“Well, make sure to bring it up next time we see your psychiatrist. You’re looking a bit too thin.” Shinji nodded in agreement, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. The ceiling fan cast shadows across the velvet red insides of his eyelids as it turned lazily past the lightbulb.
“I’m sure it’ll be back with a vengeance soon,” he lied.
His pants were starting to feel loose lately. He tightened his belt another notch when he stood in front of the mirror the next morning.
Shinji couldn’t decide if it was harder to be alone or around others anymore. Sometimes he enjoyed being with Touji, Kensuke, or Asuka, and other times they were completely unbearable. He found their presences to be far too overwhelming. He often stared off into space, retreating inside of himself to keep from screaming. Kensuke would have to tap him on the shoulder to alert him when he’d been asked a question. Even though he was unable to function in a group setting, though, his friends seemed to appreciate him anyway. It made him feel even guiltier about his behavior. On the other hand, Shinji felt suffocated by his own thoughts when he went without company. It was like his mind was always contradicting itself in order to make him suffer as much as possible; he felt sure that no one cared about him, but also hated opening up because he didn’t want to hurt the ones who cared about him. He would never talk about his problems because he hated the attention, but he desperately wanted that very same attention. The constant tugging was so difficult that most days Shinji could do nothing but lay in bed and feel his own stomach trying to eat itself in desperation.
It was lunch on a Tuesday when he saw Rei Ayanami during his walk. She was in his class, but they had never interacted before. She seemed quiet and reserved from what Shinji could tell. She was sitting primly on a bench that was built into a wooden bridge which crossed a small brook. Her feet and knees were together, her hands folded delicately in her lap like two paper cranes. She stared not at the running water or the trees but straight ahead. She seemed translucent, so peaceful and out of place that she could have been superimposed on the scenery around her. Her hair was blue and her eyes were red. Shinji didn’t know what possessed him, but he sat down next to Rei after a moment of consideration. He didn’t bother taking out even one earbud of his SDAT. She didn’t seem to mind.
Sitting with Rei without a word passing between them became his new routine. He was fairly accustomed to it after three weeks. One day, the routine was altered.
“Ikari.”
Shinji hurriedly removed his earbuds. Her voice could barely be heard above the music. “Yes?”
“Would you mind if I had a friend visit us at lunch?” Her voice didn’t bother changing inflections to demonstrate that she was asking a question, as if receiving an answer were as inconsequential as which way the wind chose to blow.
“I suppose not,” Shinji answered.
“Okay,” Rei said, and they didn’t talk again. Eventually the bell rang and they walked together to class, as they had done every day since Shinji started sitting with her. After they arrived, Shinji tried to discreetly watch for a hint of who Rei was even friends with, but she didn’t seem to talk to anyone. The only time she so much as opened her mouth was to answer the teacher when she was called on. Though Rei was quiet, Shinji never felt awkward around her. He felt that they were somehow kindred spirits. He could only hope that whatever friend she brought would be the same.
“Say, Asuka, you don’t happen to know anyone who’s friends with Ayanami, do you?” Shinji asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone as he and his roommate trudged home that afternoon. The sky was richly orange with a few cream-covered clouds. Shinji felt he could certainly go for a Creamsicle. Frozen flavored water couldn’t be that many calories. Maybe they’d stop at a convenience store… Shinji added, “Also, do you want to get popsicles?”
“Hold on a second,” Asuka said, glaring at him accusatorially. “You disappear at lunch for a week because you don’t want your friends to see you’re not eating, and now you’re asking about Ayanami and popsicles? What the hell is wrong with you, Shinji?”
“It’s been three weeks, actually…” Shinji muttered uselessly.
“Like I’d notice how long you’re absent from my life.” She rolled her eyes and sighed before continuing in a softer tone. “No, I don’t know who Ayanami’s friends with. Is that who you sit with at lunch now?”
“Yes. In the forest.”
“You guys are such weirdos,” Asuka lamented. She turned onto a sidestreet. Shinji stopped, looking confused. She sighed again with fervor. “The convenience store is this way.”
Shinji’s face lit up. As mean as Asuka could be, she was always there for him when he desperately needed Creamsicles.
“So… why aren’t you eating?” she asked casually between bites of her cherry popsicle once they were back on their way home. If there was anything Asuka wasn’t, it was hard to read. Shinji knew she was worried. He trained his eyes on his feet.
“I think the medication is making my appetite smaller,” Shinji said. Asuka made a noise of surprise.
“I didn’t know you were taking medication.”
“Yeah. The psychiatrist has been testing out different antidepressants for a while,” Shinji explained.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing a psychiatrist,” Asuka said, arms crossed and a look flickering in her features that Shinji couldn’t quite make out with his head down. Shinji shrugged. “You can always talk to me, y’know,” she continued.
“You probably didn’t notice because you spend a lot of time out of the house these days.” Shinji risked a glance in her direction to make sure she hadn’t taken it as an accusation. “Anyway, I prefer not to bother other people with my problems,” Shinji murmured, eyebrows knitting together.
“It’d only be a little bit of a bother,” Asuka promised. Shinji laughed quietly at that.
When Shinji threw away the remaining half of his dinner that night, no one questioned it.
Shinji woke up in the morning feeling some mix of dread and anticipation. He figured Rei’s question was pertaining to today’s lunch and that he’d be meeting her friend today. He was curious, preoccupied even; he was pretty sure he’d dreamt about it, but he couldn’t remember much except something about pianos. Whoever this friend would be, Shinji wasn’t especially a fan of change, and he only hoped that they wouldn’t be too loud or rambunctious. He doubted any friend of Rei’s would be, though. He hoped he’d be making another acquaintance who was quiet and thoughtful.
Once lunch came, Shinji made the now-familiar trek to their spot on the bridge. He felt somewhat confused to see Rei sitting in exactly the same way she always did, but noticed a second figure as he approached. It was a boy. He was sitting far more casually than Rei, but not in an impolite way. It suggested great comfort with his body. Shinji was momentarily jealous. His head was tilted into the sunlight, his eyes closed, humming Beethoven. His arms acted as a pillow for his silver hair to rest on. His relaxation was pleasant and inviting, so that Shinji didn’t feel he was intruding even while waking him out of his reverie with the leaves that crunched below his feet. He wore a long-sleeved shirt despite the fact that it was rather warm out.
He cocked his head in Shinji’s direction and opened one red eye.
“Good afternoon, Shinji,” he called, and his voice sounded warm and smooth. Shinji’s face reddened a bit as he lifted a hand in a shy wave. Rei looked towards him as well.
“Ikari, this is Nagisa,” she explained.
Nagisa let his head return to its pillow and closed his eye once again. “You’re so formal, Rei. You can call me Kaworu.”
“Ah… okay,” Shinji said, and took his usual seat next to Rei. Feeling a little strange, he pulled out his SDAT and placed his earbuds in his ears. A few minutes passed before he lifted his head in surprise to see Kaworu had moved to sit on his other side and was tapping his shoulder curiously. Shinji plucked out an earbud. Kaworu was giving him a smile brighter than the sun.
“What are you listening to?” he asked.
“I don’t listen to anything good,” Shinji said. Kaworu tilted his head quizzically, a little pout appearing worriedly on his face. Shinji was immediately reminded of a puppy.
“Hmm. I’m sure that’s not true,” he reassured him, the blinding smile returning.
“The Smiths,” Shinji answered, relenting. Kaworu’s eyebrows raised and he made a dramatic face of surprise, grabbing one of Shinji’s hands.
“I love them! Morrissey’s lyrical talents are matched by none,” Kaworu said, ignoring Shinji’s spluttering at their touching hands. Kaworu leaned back again, expression returning to its state of rapturous relaxation as he quietly sung a few lines of “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out.” Shinji nodded in wide-eyed agreement, gaze still fixed on their linked fingers.
“I’m sorry Nagisa is so forward,” Rei said. Her voice was always quiet and rapid, but someone with as much experience in handling her as Kaworu knew how to read its fluctuations. She was distinctly amused at his carefree attitude.
“I’m not too forward, Rei, I’m just too honest for my own good,” he said airily. Shinji tried to extract his hand.
He found that he didn’t want to.
Instead, he arranged his earbuds so that he could offer one to Kaworu, then returned his hand to Kaworu’s. Shinji set his palm atop the back of Kaworu’s hand gently, and they stayed that way while exchanging comments about each song that they listened to.
“We have to go back to class soon,” Rei said some time later.
Shinji made a noise of agreement. “What class are you in, anyway, Kaworu?”
“None,” Kaworu said, grinning. “I’m in charge of my own studies.”
“Ah, you’re a rebel?” Shinji asked amusedly, shocked slightly by his own daring and the speed at which he’d become fairly comfortable around Kaworu. Kaworu hummed in agreement.
“Yeah, that’s me. I prefer to study philosophy and literature on my own terms rather than some old man’s,” Kaworu continued.
“How pretentious,” Rei said. The combination of her soft spoken nature, affection for Kaworu, and proclivity for attacking him with every word had Shinji laughing past the last bell ringing out across the grounds.