Chapter Text
Once again, Shinji wondered whether this was what all his life had led up to. Spending an early break of orchestra rehearsals huddled on some old-as-life theatre chair and looking up light-up shoes for adults with his phone’s lamentable internet connection was surely not a point he’d thought he’d reach one year ago. Well, the general gossip was that things were naturally predisposed to change.
Light-up shoes, though, he attempted to remember what having some dignity had been like and failed. There were some muffled yells from backstage but he guessed they were only people getting ready for dress rehearsals. Lucky them.
Well, Christmas is in one month, he countered as he painstakingly opened another website. It wasn’t like he had any better ideas. Or, well, yes, he did have better ideas, dozens of them, but they just seemed too generic. That wouldn’t have been a problem, actually, only he’d somehow decided to get out of his comfort zone for this one. With light-up shoes! He again whined at himself, and spent the rest of his short break wondering whether he ought to get him multicoloured or purple ones.
“Gosh, it’s so hard to get hold of you nowadays,” huffed Asuka’s voice through his phone once rehearsals had ended and he was once again facing the icy streets. It had been so cold lately, though it hadn’t exactly started snowing, that he’d even started wearing hand-warmers.
Well, it had mostly been at Kaworu’s insistence, and it was hard to resist him while knowing that he’d previously provided Shinji with one of the world’s warmest mufflers. Really, when Shinji had unearthed it from his wardrobe’s recesses, two thoughts had instantly come into his mind: (1) that it wasn’t really all that colourful, and (2) that it looked like a safe haven in face of the wind outside. He had been mostly right. Consequently, Kaworu had handed him a pair of grey knitted hand-warmers with more determination than he usually displayed, and he’d accepted them.
“They’re holding a lot more rehearsals for the winter plays lately,” Shinji said from the theatre’s entrance door, glancing at up at the gloomy skies and pulling his hat lower over his ears with his free hand. “Sorry,” he added as an afterthought. “How have you been?”
“Oh, the same old story,” Asuka drawled and Shinji had the distinct knowledge that she was probably in a more comfortable position than his own as he started his freezing walk to the subway station. “Here I am, kicking stuff and saving people’s lives while the less endowed fill the house with junk.”
There was a light squabble in the background at that point, and Shinji waited for it to be over and for the pedestrian light to turn green simultaneously. His boots were too thin for this, he reflected. The temperature also kind of hurt his eyes, if that made any sense.
“That’s not a nice thing to say about your roommate,” he offered, once Asuka seemed to have come back to him, and he suppressed a smile at the thought of her expression. “Er, you were saying something about your scholarship last time...”
Meaning around four days before, when he’d called to ask her about her thoughts on Bizet and she had instead commenced to tell him about how she’d practically saved a freshman’s life by kicking a vial out of their hand. It summed up their friendship pretty well, actually.
“I’m a strong believer in hard truths and plain speech,” she said now, and it was quite poetic how she managed to shape and undermine her statement concurrently. “And yes. They accepted. I might go abroad next year.”
Instinctively, there was a drowning feeling in Shinji’s stomach. Then, he’d started descending the stairs to the underground. “That’s good...”
“Yes – I mean, it’s only gonna be a few months, three at best, I don’t have enough time to spare for a full semester unless I know for sure the conditions are better, but that’s for later use anyway. I guess I’ll make a general evaluation.”
He had to fumble a bit in order to find his pass, but then he was advancing towards the platform. “I looked over what you sent me. They seemed pretty... advanced.”
Basically, he’d spent half an hour poring over sentences he couldn’t understand about molecules and genomes and many facilities that could make these sentences even less readable for people like him. It had looked trustworthy enough, in its unintelligibility; and Asuka had been waiting to study abroad since middle school, after all.
“That’s because they are,” she stressed. “Why else would I even go there?” The point was on her side. Shinji noted the delay of his subway and proceeded to wait beside a pillar. “Are you freaking out?” Asuka asked, first surprising him and then making his face screw up in embarrassment.
“I’m not freaking out,” he said, fretting his hands in an incipient freaking-out fashion.
There was a hard groan on Asuka’s side. It was followed by a reconciliatory silence. “You’ll be fine.”
Hands stopped fretting momentarily. “I know,” he said, smiling a bit. “You too,” he continued after a bit of reflection.
This time, she made a sound like a hand-dismissal. “Don’t be cheeky.” He almost laughed, and then boarded the train. “Anyway, how is it going?”
Shinji held on to a handrail, hoping his cello wouldn’t fall off his shoulder. “Er, it’s going well. I will probably be able to slip you in to watch one of the plays in December...” Gaining this piece of knowledge had required a decent amount of nerve-wracking espionage and some awkward questions thrown around.
“Great. About time your artistic inclinations started impinging upon me.”
“Yeah, well,” Shinji backed into an empty corner of the wagon. “If you want, you could bring your violin too...,” he added as soon as the idea returned to his mind. “I mean, we could probably find some place to play. Er – only if you want to.”
Shinji, poet laureate.
“I don’t see why not,” was Asuka’s reply, nevertheless, and he counted his stops; two more to go. “It’s been a while.” He made an indistinct sound to show that indeed, it had. “Last time we played was – well.”
Unseen, Shinji nodded. It hadn’t been during one of the best parts of their lives. “A long time ago,” he summarised.
“That’s it,” she acquiesced. “Ugh, what’s the time?” Shinji glanced at his watch; close to 4 o’clock. But she didn’t seem to wait for him to answer. “Can you believe I’m having a colloquium at this hour?” She made another displeased sound. “I gotta go.”
Well, as a fact, Shinji had a composition class scheduled quite late in the evening on Wednesdays this year, but he chose not to mention that now. “Have fun,” he tried instead.
“Uh, are you kidding me?” she groaned. “Still. Call me tomorrow.”
“Alright. Bye,” he said, pushing the opening button of the train. She hung up as the doors closed behind him.
Next was a relatively short way through a dry and freezing wasteland until he reached his predetermined shelter. Namely, Shinji’s face, thighs, feet and the better part of his torso froze as he walked down the empty street towards his home. Once there, he found the front door unlocked and, behind it, glorious warmth. He put his cello down and took off his boots in a reverie, and then picked the cello up again and rushed politely to his room, while also being careful to greet his aunt as he passed by the living room.
I’m not made for this kind of weather, Shinji pondered once he’d closed his door behind him. But, then again, neither was he made for sunny, rainy, or windy weather, so his complaint was kind of unimpressive. The cello was safely deposited beside his bed.
Right. He checked the time, let out another breath, and started taking off his outer clothes muffler-first. I’m still on time, he marvelled as he took off his wannabe-gloves and then his coat. Everything, that is his skin, felt like melting ice. It was great and horrible at the same time; because he knew he had to leave again in – he looked at the clock. Seven minutes at most.
Once the better part of his outer garments was discarded, he took a seat on the edge of his bed and forcefully rubbed his thighs in an attempt to force warmth back into them. His cheeks stung too, but it was his lips that eventually made him get up again, search the drawers of his desk, and hastily reclaim his balm.
Five minutes, then, he told himself, eyeing a hidden digital clock as he did his best to run the small thing over his lips without opening old sores. This had become a problem lately, and it was solely the fault of this inhuman weather.
After a few moments of hesitation, he took off his black, decently-thick shirt in normal conditions, and hastily pulled on a similar black sweater in its stead. Well, this one also had some blue dolphins on it, but nevertheless. Then, he started the process of re-dressing himself, coat, hand-warmers, colourful muffler and knitted hat regaining their place in record time.
Thicker boots now, however, he reminded himself as he draped his bag over one shoulder and went out of his room. He was almost at the entrance hall when he heard his aunt behind him, which would have made him jump if he wasn’t wrapped up in so many layers of clothes.
“Out again already?” she asked, and Shinji politely pulled his muffler down a bit.
“Yea – Yes, I have a...,” he moved his hand a bit, analysed the ceiling. “...date,” he finished.
“Oh,” his aunt said, and it wouldn’t have been particularly fair if she’d now said something to dampen Shinji’s mood right as he was steeling himself to face the freezing abyss outside. “I hope you dressed warmly enough, then,” she continued and it was so perfectly civil that it made Shinji feel bad for his previous thoughts.
“I—yes, I am. Thank you,” he analysed the floor now, and took a couple more steps towards the door. Thicker boots now, right, he reminded himself, getting a hold on them and on himself too.
“Have fun,” his aunt said, smiling, making him look up from his shoe-laces
“Thank you,” he repeated, and hurried to leave not as much because the interaction scared him but because he was officially, maybe, possibly, running late.
He didn’t run entirely late, in the end. The coffee shop had been in his line of sight ever since he’d climbed up from the underground, and Kaworu only had to wait for him to walk, well, 200 metres at best.
Classes at 8 in the morning, rehearsals at 12, home at 4.30 and back in town at 5.20. Shinji wasn’t an individual particularly used to having such crowded days, but the thought to feel tired didn’t reach him until he was within leaning distance. Kaworu had a gloriously pompous, large-knitted, beige muffler around his throat – and, well, also around his shoulders. His shoulders looked particularly comfortable now, Shinji observed with resentment.
“Got off duty okay?” Kaworu asked him, not looking quite as cold or tired as Shinji was feeling.
“I guess so,” Shinji said distractedly, because his hands had just begun to unfreeze in his pockets and he was thus at an impasse between keeping them there and touching Kaworu’s face. Not that there was any mandatory need to touch his face, of course, but it had been a long day. “Was your shift alright?”
“Pretty alright,” Kaworu smiled, pulling his knitted cap back a bit so his fringe wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore. “Somebody asked for an affogato, in this weather. It had almost forgotten how to prepare it, but it turned out alright.”
Shinji’s attention was still centred on his hat, however. It looked like Kaworu’s muffler had somehow created a tinier, greyer baby, which had crawled on his head and settled snugly there. It looked quite good on him, Shinji thought. It was cute.
“You’re obviously underpaid,” he said, because, no matter how low the temperature got, hearing Kaworu’s laugh was still a noble goal to have. As a consequence, his teeth froze.
“Obviously,” laugh turned to a grin that probably had no licence to be that charming, and Kaworu pushed their shoulders together to get them going down the street. “I was thinking we could walk around a bit, drink something warm somewhere, possibly visit – there’s a children’s charity sale near the City Hall, did you know? Also, some other shops...”
Once he raised his hand to his mouth, Shinji noted with thankfulness that his hand-warmers were a deep ochre and red. People needed some consistency in life, after all. For some, that meant the laws of physics remaining in place. For Shinji, that Kaworu stayed mildly overexcited at combining colours.
“...I kind of need a new teapot,” Kaworu continued, rueful, then immediately snapped out of it. “Ah, sorry,” he waved his hand. “I just went on talking...”
“I kind of need a warm drink,” Shinji said instead of a clearer assurance. His hands had just got warm again, but he risked taking one of them out of his pocket in order to hold Kaworu’s.
“Manageable,” Kaworu nodded, sunny. His hold was like a pocket-sized hug. Shinji felt like he increasingly wanted a Shinji-sized hug anyway. “Now, tell me about your day.”
Shinji let out a breath, anticipating his teeth and tongue’s impending transformation to ice. Still, he conceded.
How Kaworu had been able to fit an entire teapot – antique, hand-painted, cheap and horribly pleasant-looking – in his messenger bag was beside Shinji’s intellectual powers. However, as they left the small alcove in which they’d enjoyed a cup of warm cider in a nearby shopping centre, there proved to be more important things ready to catch his attention. Like the fact that
“It’s snowing,” he said, looking at the sky like it was a Greek tragedy.
“Oh,” Kaworu deflated a bit, but his arm went slowly over Shinji’s shoulders so maybe he wasn’t quite so devastated. It was dark and cold and wetly snowing; Shinji leant into him. “I’m going to get you some hot waffles, if that’s alright,” he then said, after a period of reflection Shinji somehow felt like he’d missed.
“What?” he found the strength to ask. Kaworu pointed across the street, through the thick and soggy snowfall. There was, indeed, a vendor. If he concentrated, he could almost smell the vanilla and the cooking batter. His head hurt a bit. “Yes, thank you.”
Minutes later, fingers burning from the hot, crisp waffle, Shinji decided his day wasn’t so bad, even though some snowflakes had got in his mouth. They had taken cover under a tree, but it wasn’t like it was doing them much good; at least the streets had grown rather crowded, stopping most of the flakes from reaching the ground.
Beside him, Kaworu was chewing and staring at the falling snow with a serious expression. “This is rather inconvenient.”
Shinji nodded, but chose to take another bite instead of adding something to that statement.
“I mean,” Kaworu moved his waffle around a bit, which was a bit of a shame, since it only increased the chances for it to get cold, “It’s messing with my contact lenses.”
Shinji chewed a bit more, looking at the street. Then, he turned to look at Kaworu and, sure enough, he was blinking rather more than necessary. Oh, he stared. Huh...
He hadn’t observed that. “We could take the bus...”
Blinking rather ameliorated, Kaworu gave him a reassuring smile. “No, that’s okay. It’s not that bad,” he glanced at him and presumably noted Shinji’s offended disbelief. “Really,” and he grinned too, for effect.
It only elicited a huff and a small shrug from Shinji. “Eat your waffle.”
“I probably won’t be able to go anywhere until after New Year’s,” Shinji admitted, eyes tracking the thickening snow waiting to be trodden on by his boots. Not so many people here, now.
“Hm,” Kaworu shifted their hands’ position a bit, warming up a different patch of icy skin. “That’s not a problem. We’ll still have a few days.”
Maybe, but those days would come after a few endless evenings of theatre performances, so Shinji wasn’t sure how good he’d be as company. It was a lucky thing neither of them seemed to be particularly looking for excitement in this relationship, else they would have reached an impasse long ago.
“Before that, you could come over to discuss pillow fort techniques,” Kaworu grinned and Shinji hid his own smile in his muffler.
“I still think we ought to look for a step-by-step tutorial,” he muttered against colourful, knitted wool. Last time, which was, granted, in summer, it had fallen on their heads and made Tabris cross with them for a full week. “Remind me to bring you a theatre ticket, though,” he said as an unrelated afterthought.
“Already?” Shinji shot him a glance as if to say no, but one could never be too forethoughtful with these things. “Alright, I’ll remember.”
Then, since that was settled, Shinji’s thoughts fell back upon pillows and blankets. “When I’m living alone, I’m gonna save a bit of space, just for you to build a nest,” he declared, trying in vain to see anything ahead in that snowfall.
That was too daring on two different levels, he pondered, but didn’t take it back.
Kaworu’s shoulder pressed into his, fleetingly. “Thank you, you’re one of the loveliest people I know,” he said, in the half-amused tone of someone who was joking and telling the truth at the same time.
You really ought to get a better entourage, Shinji thought, but it didn’t last, and he smiled instead. “Only a small corner, though.”
“More than enough,” Kaworu said with conviction. “You’d have to share the rest with Tabris, however.”
“I know,” Shinji nodded, seriously. “It’s all arranged.”
“Good,” Kaworu changed their hold again and, really, if he hadn’t been there Shinji would have probably been dying of cold. Like this, walking on a snowy street, after dark, while being gradually frozen to the bone, didn’t seem that bad.
There was only the minor setback of the snow getting in his eyes, and nose, and mouth, getting his fringe into his eyes, weighing down his clothes, and making his steps awkward. Shinji sniffed, wondering how far they were from the next subway station.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked Kaworu, because the abrupt discovery of his visual impairment had yet to wear off.
Really, he might have found out about it earlier, but the previous experiences of his life hadn’t prepared him to tell apart a contact lens case from a fancy-looking box of dental floss, so the mysteries of Kaworu’s bathroom had remained intact.
“Positive,” Kaworu said, but then ducked his head a little. “Although it might be somewhat helpful not to walk against the wind for a moment.”
Right. There wasn’t a lot of wind, but, since it still managed to move bucketfuls of snowflakes their way, it was inconvenient. Changing course, however, hardly seemed productive now.
“You could, uh.” Vague hand movements signalled secret meanings to Kaworu. In the face of puzzlement, Shinji redoubled his efforts.
“Oh,” Kaworu said, possibly out of politeness, but Shinji stopped anyway.
It was probably a mixture of need and desperation that eventually made Kaworu understand and follow his signed instructions. Mainly, he turned with his back to the wind and hid his face into Shinji’s shoulder. Human shield was not something Shinji had previously considered adding to his CV, but he seemed to be pretty good at it nevertheless. Good thing they had left the bigger part of the crowd several hundred metres behind them. Feeling prolific and affectionate above his daily quota, he also linked his hands at Kaworu’s back.
“Much better,” Kaworu said into his muffler, and he probably meant the made-up shelter. “Thank you.”
Shinji’s cheeks were kind of hurting a lot from the cold, so the thought to follow Kaworu’s example and acquaint his face with his large, knitted scarf was floating cheerily around his head. Still, somebody ought to stay guard, in case a sudden mob were to come around the corner, so he didn’t.
“If you also want a lullaby,” Shinji offered in good humour, because his disfavour of singing was only slightly more renowned than the one he had of dancing.
Appropriately, Kaworu giggled into his shoulder. “Don’t make me lose my head.”
“I thought you said that was a common occurrence with you,” Shinji probed, feeling his fingers chill, but not giving up their hug.
“True,” Kaworu said, mock-serious tone mimicking Shinji’s, and raised his face to look at him. “Only it’s usually – in more dramatic situations.”
An eyebrow was raised. “Such as...?”
Kaworu smiled, and although Shinji had got used to close proximity where the two of them were concerned, he still held his breath for a moment. “Various things; taking Tabris to the vet for the first time, auditioning for the middle school play...”
He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, apart from an uncomfortable, dull sting, but that was okay. Shinji smiled back. He felt a particularly large snowflake melt in between their lips a moment later.
Monday, and sunny, and very full of snow, and Shinji was seated on a (snowy) bench somewhere and looking at some dogs and waiting for his body to stop trembling with nerves. The dogs were wearing sweaters. In five hours, it would be time for Shinji’s first play with the theatre’s orchestra to commence.
The most annoying thing was that he felt like he couldn’t quite swallow right. Of all things. Also, his bones felt immaterial and shivery at the same time. Also, his muffler smelt like Kaworu’s place. Possibly, also his coat; and his hat. His shirt probably smelt like his aunt’s lilac detergent, however.
There were three small dogs and they were wearing hand-knitted sweaters and going round a small snowman. They were metres away from Shinji. They had tiny knitted hats too. Shinji wondered whether he should have gone to a library, to calm his nerves. Then again, a library wouldn’t have had grandmotherly terriers playing around in the snow. Or who knew.
Once he started getting used to his hand-warmers, he found them to be actually effective. He wasn’t freezing so much now, even though the air was as cold as the sunrays on his face were bright. He hoped he wouldn’t get sunburnt; this was what he got for not listening when everybody told him to get sun cream.
At this hour, Asuka was supposedly undergoing awkward family visits, so he couldn’t exactly call her; yet. At some point, she might casually and desperately tell him to call and save her from whatever situation she’d got herself into. Until then, he didn’t have much to do, except for watching the dogs. It was entertaining enough, but he was still shivering on the inside. From time to time, he looked at his hands, only to see them improbably steady as he felt like he was dissolving inside-out.
One of the dogs had entered his immediate proximity, and was now staring strangely at his boots. Shinji frowned; he thought his boots to be perfectly sensible, offering no reason for staring. It didn’t seem to be particularly aggressive. However, he did not know how to go around petting it without setting its hat askew. Problems of the highest seriousness.
It lasted all of five minutes, and then Shinji started petting its nose in what, to him, seemed like the most awkward manner. I’ve been around cats too long, he decided. Nobody seemed to mind him. For all he knew, these dogs might have been a stress hallucination. Another dog approached, and was consequently subjected to the same treatment.
Shinji would have asked himself what he was doing, but he found that he was enjoying himself.
Nothing better than a pair of wiggling tails before a traumatic experience, he reasoned, smiled at a rather too excited terrier. He’d been missing out; he should have hung around dogs and puppies more. There was so little that was terrifying about them. They’re furry couch pillows, Shinji poeticised. Well, he might have been a little influenced by the brightly knit sweaters.
By the time a short elderly person came to retrieve said cushions, his phone already waited with an unseen text. Just on time, Shinji thought, glancing at the hour.
Kaworu: Alright, I’m here. Come retrieve your special order whenever you’re free.
He’d be great in commercials, Shinji thought with dry fondness, and pushed himself up from the bench. His legs kind of hurt now, although he hadn’t sat there for more than an hour. Cause and effect, he thought. At least he’d got to pet some dogs.
“Welcome,” Kaworu smiled like a snowflake in its very first snowstorm. It wasn’t snowing today, Shinji reminded himself.
“Hi,” he started pulling off his hand-warmers as he approached the counter, thinking that they had overdone the cosy, wintery atmosphere in the coffee shop this year. There were a lot of dull red decorations, not to mention the perpetual smell of cinnamon and ginger.
“How much time have I got?” Kaworu asked, pulling up his sleeve to check his watch. It had planets all over it, Shinji knew. He’d been there for the magical purchase.
“As much as you need. I can stay around for two hours.” Then – the massacre, the purge, the slaying of the innocent. Then – a theatre play.
The sounds of the coffee grinder were as loud as always, and quite therapeutic for Shinji’s mental state. For all his fast movements, it still seemed to take Kaworu a while to prepare whatever small cauldron of dark magic he had promised him. It was lucky that the other two customers, who arrived after Shinji, asked for tea, otherwise Shinji would have had quite a stressful time waiting for his order.
Glancing at Kaworu, bent over his masterpiece, adding who-knew-what, Shinji felt a whole year younger. It was a strange, viscous, gooey feeling, residing somewhere deep in his chest. It was nice, almost, but he was still too jittery to tell.
“Here you go,” Kaworu lifted a blue ceramic mug for Shinji to see, and smiled over it. “It will make you feel better.”
Shinji frowned, because he didn’t remember telling him he was feeling unwell, and he still liked to think he wasn’t quite that transparent. “Is it safe?” he asked, fixing his eyes on the mug.
“Perfectly,” Kaworu placed it on a small tray, alongside a long teaspoon, a couple napkins, and a small biscuit. “Oh, and look what I learnt to do,” he added with glee, and Shinji looked closer at the mug to see the cat drawn in the foam.
He smiled. “Frothy,” he declared, and it made Kaworu beam more. He caught himself wanting to experience that a little while longer, so he went on. “How is your dragon?”
There was a moment for Kaworu to blink at him; a short one, for deciphering. Then it dissolved back into a grin. “Tabris is well. It’s decoration-sabotage season.”
“I’m glad,” Shinji said as he picked up his tray and magic cauldron.
Apparently, that wasn’t the desired action, because Kaworu immediately made a few vague hand gestures. Still, it wasn’t like Shinji would actually relinquish his tray now. One of these days, some manager will catch him at it, he mused, turning to look around for a table. Whether he was referring to Kaworu’s continuous fixation on not letting him pay for each of his drinks, or to the fact that they always seemed to talk a bit more than Shinji would have considered advisable during work-hours – although, granted, this usually meant only one or two lines more than a greeting, but Shinji had his own strong views about these things – was of little importance.
Amiably ignorant of his thoughts, Kaworu followed him to the table – even tray-less – as he left the miraculous other two baristas busy themselves with the heavy amount of customers. Mainly, one. Still, Shinji countered, seating himself in a much needed, soft chair. Better than frozen park benches, at least.
“Will you be alright?” Kaworu asked, playing with a little order-notebook to make himself seem hard-working.
Hard to say, Shinji thought, looking at his mystery drink. “I think so,” he tried.
“It’s all going to be fine, in the end,” Kaworu said, making him realise he probably hadn’t been talking about coffee before. Looking up, he got offered a kind smile. “One way or another. I’ll be there, let’s see, 20 minutes prior? Will that be okay?”
Oh, right. Shinji had a play to actively attend to. Two minutes of forgetting that had rendered him dreadfully defenceless. “Er,” he consequently enunciated. “Yes, that would be okay.” Then, a thought. “Um. Thanks.”
The tiny notebook was returned to an apron-pocket in favour of Kaworu kind of easily and patiently caressing Shinji’s hair. Definitely going to get him in trouble, Shinji remarked absently, but he was feeling more surprised than fatalistic at the moment. Still, it was nice, for the few seconds it lasted.
“You’re going to be alright,” Kaworu told him moments before withdrawing his hand. Words seemed more trustworthy like that.
“I guess,” Shinji tried to smile, raising his shoulders in embarrassment. He remembered an old dogma, and tried it out. “If I won’t, then at least I could get another coffee afterwards.”
Inferring from the light suddenly flickering in Kaworu’s eyes, that was a sound judgement. He’d done that before, after all.