FLY ME TO THE MOON. (autoplay)

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

【 ⊳ 碇 】；

❝ N-NO, REALLY — won’t you be cold waiting for your clothes to dry…? ❞ If he was being truthful, that wasn’t his only reason for offering his own, although it was a primary motive. His own secondhand embarrassment aside, he’d become all too familiar with the value Rei placed on her own well being: zero. For all of the times Shinji had seen her bandaged and bloody, he didn’t want her getting sick if he could do anything to help it.

As her hand began to drift towards the t-shirt and shorts he’d procured, he handed them over still without looking directly her way. He’d point her to the bathroom, but it didn’t seem likely she would change there. ❝ Here. Um…I-I can take your wet clothes while you change. ❞

❛ The cold, ❜ she murmurs; she was cold and she will be, such as it was with the principle of thermodynamics—and contrary the warmth that blistered through her cheeks as she looked away from the boy. Indeed, the cold which was and will would linger, but, the girl knew it was a transitory one, feeling ultimately fleeting in time as most things would and do—as she had come to know by now; the consequence of nothing, as it ought to be, came about to remain as nothing and to dismiss even the truth as meaningless while within this SHELL, as she always had.

Then why, of whom shouldn’t, had Rei Ayanami found her hand grasping the clothes given to her as though it were a treasure? An impossibility yet made possible as one worthless thing for the sake of another became all truly worthwhile. The girl clutched the dry clothing, tender in her hands as the emptiness inside, briefly, faded & she turned back and spoke softly to Shinji:

❛ Thank you, Ikari. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

【 ⊳ 碇 】；

SHE DIDN’T EVEN MAKE IT down the entrance hall before beginning to unbutton her uniform top, and immediately Shinji froze up, staring for just a moment before quickly reminding himself to avert his eyes. ❝ W-wait, uh — let me at least loan you something while they dry! You, uh…y-you’ll need something while you’re here! You’ll catch a cold otherwise. I’ll be right back. ❞

He’s gone before Rei can protest, disappearing into his room to grab a shirt and shorts. When he returns, he’s staring at the floor. ❝ Here…um, until your clothes dry. ❞

Despite the fact of what she said—almost in spite of it, rather—Ikari spoke and acted against her wishes, her insistence, and both left and came back. In the moment, his cheeks blistering with red & his eyes staring away as her tender hands have already sacked her shirt from her shoulders, exposing the bra as her arms are outstretched; the only parts of her body keeping her shirt tied to it—a defiant gesture of sorts, but not one unwelcome.

Likewise, Rei too froze up as she looks both at the boy & the clothes in his hand. Her face, tendered by the act, warmth all encompassing across her pale front as the girl’s hand lingeringly reaches over. ❛ Y-you don’t need to, it’s okay. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

                                                        *   *   *

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

     ❝ AYANAMI! ❞

               It’s curtain call, but he doesn’t want to go on without her.

               He can’t rely on the EVA to eject her entry plug itself; he has to do it. He has to know if she’s okay. Please be okay. So he doesn’t even think about returning to headquarters. He immediately pushes himself and Unit-01 up from their sniping position, and rushes to where Unit-00 lay, heavily disfigured, next to the remains of its shield that just couldn’t hold. He pries open its back to get to the entry plug. Please be okay.

               ❝ Ayanami! ❞

                He ejects his own plug, and then he’s on the ground in the cold midnight air, under the light of the full moon. Please be okay. He fights the hatch on Rei’s half-melted plug with all his remaining strength. But the metal disintegrates the latex over his hands and sears the skin beneath it. He’s hardly cold. Please don’t be dead!

               ❝ Ayanami! Are you alright?! Ayanami! ❞

               He can’t bear the thought of such bleak words being her last: that she has nothing else besides the EVA. He can’t bear the thought of being the reason Rei is gone. He can’t stand those words being said to him before he’s ready —

               Goodbye.

               ( He can’t stand the thought of being alone again. )

             . . . Light,

Flashes, glimmers, & gleams.

All of them blur; indiscernible from one another, but familiar all the same as that light poured into the entry plug just as LCL escaped it. Her face, unclear, as eyes would struggle to open, to see the moonlight that cherished the girl’s figure as she laid their, the mind drifting in & out of consciousnesses further down til the wayward is lost completely in the moment.

How did she here again?

Ah yes, a battle—there was one, wasn’t there? Whether to call it unprecedented or insignificant mattered little, but there was one such battle regardless: one to decide the fate of all humanity against the almighty, the all-powerful, and the wire was thin as she distinctly remembers the smell of melted steel & molten earth, with just a hint of charred flesh as it slams back into the girl’s mind...

...

Now she remembers: there was a battle, one against the Fifth Angel, and she had to wield her Evangelion—ill-tempered things—to protect the Third’s as he defied god, and flung a shot that would move heaven & earth, much as David slung the rock that spelled the end for the Goliath, as he took an impossible task like no other before him, and the girl had a labor equally unthinkable as she moved to protect him, to defend the Third... to shield the young Ikari. A clash of souls, as well as metal withstanding annihilation itself and tearing the other asunder as lightning and the moon crashed beneath the stars and the light, the storm, and all the things that would destroy overtook everything as shield, then body, begin to erode away into, seemingly nothing thereafter as she slipped away into oblivion.

But... here she was, alive, and the battle was won; so, WHY does she feel NOTHING? Worse, why does she feel wronged? To be denied? Ashamed, even? Her nature perhaps, or by the nurturing of her being, maybe even some combination of the two? 

No, the reality was sadder than that... and as her crimson eyes look, the miasma easing up & fading away as sight came to, like a spell lifted as the girl is finally able to see, and she is struck with something so familiar it’s not only haunting, but downright harrowing. Then, as she saw, the girl realized this true depth of this feeling now as she sees the tears in the boy’s eyes:

She failed, utterly, to hold to her word and protect him—the boy who was so, very, very afraid—and instead made him blister with a need to protect her instead. The younger Ikari, following in the footsteps of his father, and doing worse to himself than anything could be done to her... after all, who would mourn her? Who would care? She was, for all purposes, expendable—there was naught a thing of her being that was dispensable, completely replaceable in every sense. It was entirely needless, so why?

        This was supposed to be goodbye, right?

[ayanxmi]

( akagi.‌ )

conversations with rei ayanami were always left ritsuko thinking much more than speaking. after all, there was only so much talk to be said before she was met with the broken record of answers despite the variety in the questions asked.  

turning the corner, ritsuko opened the door to her office, allowing rei to enter first before following in afterwards. despite this simply being another part of her job, being within her own space often allowed her to feel more relaxed. her shoulders not as tense as they were moments prior. the doctor moved towards her coffee maker & pressed the button. a new brew is what she needed.

❝ as much as you believe it wouldn’t matter, there’s a level of normalcy that must be met for your day to day.❞ she explained, though she wondered if she was just wasting her breath.  ❝ misato told me that shinji has acquired a couple friends to spend time with, and asuka has even been going to sleep overs when time allows. have you not thought to ask to tag along ? ❞

What good would that do? To someone ordinary, the answer would seem so obvious and, indeed, it would perhaps be of benefit; but they both had known that would be an impossibility to Rei Ayanami. A far cry from humanity, by nature & by design, so distantly removed from the ordinary that such a thing would seem contrary at best and inhospitable at worst.

In other words, the girl could not live as a human & would forever be unable to.

It would come back to that terrible notion, the reality of it—as often as the girl came back to this bed, or that tank to soak within the LCL, or the Evangelion which she come to know, or when that ceiling which awaits her, even now, in her residence, familiar as the lab she would always return to inevitably: the fact that she was REPLACABLE. The persistent truth, which in knowledge of, that unmakes her, making value to her a sham, little more than pretense she is not allowed. As she is, and always will be, the nothingness is pervasive as reminds her every moment of every day how little she herself matters; after all, this body is a shell & her soul not more than a passenger whilst the vessel. There was not a thing she could call her own, nor should she as she goes through the motions again and again.

Like the coffee maker beside the doctor, returning to the same function as always, til either ad infinitum or a replacement comes along to fulfill the same end.

❛ I haven’t, ❜ she answers honestly, as she knows she must, worsening that pain deep, deep down. ❛ There’s no reason to: either by order or interest, whether to interfere or burden the lives of the Second and the Third’s any further than I already am. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

【 ⊳ 碇 】；

IT’S SILLY TO EVEN ASK. Rei’s soaked practically to the bone. He wonders — does she have an umbrella? ❝ R-Right — come in! Um…the bathroom is down this way. I can, uh….you can…borrow some clothes, if you want… ❞

A bold, but naive proposition from the boy; presumptuous, even, as the young Ikari failed to remind himself of whom it was in front of him as Rei walked past, her hands fiddling as the girl began to undress. ❛ No need, my clothes will suffice. They need only some time to dry. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

【 ⊳ 碇 】；

❝ IT’S NO PROBLEM. It’s really raining hard. I’m sure Misato-san won’t mind. Um…should I — grab towels? ❞

❛ That would be fine, ❜ Rei says, standing soaking wet at the door.

[ayanxmi]

( akagi‌. )

although for years now ritsuko has had the job of ensuring the health & development of rei — making sure that she has flowered from the seed of her parts, one would expect with such time an almost maternal instinct to be within her actions. yet, perhaps it is the combination of the lack of her own maternal love & her twisted view on the girl who she knew perhaps thousands lain dormant that stopped her from delving in to such an unknown side to the doctor.

if such a side even existed, or ever would. self doubt always occupied such thoughts, despite appearing so headstrong. she wished she could be softer & not so calloused, & yet this is how she must be in order to live with who ritsuko akagi turned to be.

with the girls short words, they both walk side by side down one of the many halls of NERV, heading towards her office.

❝ have you been enjoying school ? your teachers told me that you don’t often interact with your classmates even during activities. ❞

❛ I don’t, ❜ there was no reason to refrain from the truth; the girl, by product, found little ground within her condition to justify those human things which others took for granted. A facsimile of being, deficient in truly belonging—to put it simply, she just couldn’t connect with them. ❛ I wasn’t ordered to. ❜

A curse on her: to know her own misery so matter-of-factually; much like she understood the lie bore behind the woman’s concern. Had circumstances been different... mayhaps there would have been something genuine between the two—or rather, anything at all. As they walk down the path, this sham persists & further does the lie complicate matters as to each, they see the other as a means to an end. A sad fate to befall them, truly, as these hidden feelings keep any chance for them to truly be apart.

Much like how these corridors would belie her heart from her.

❛ I don’t understand them either, so I suppose it would not matter. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( akagi‌. )

there is a sense of jealousy that twists around her heart at every instance that rei occupies gendo’s attention. that disgusting green monster fills her with anger & pity when she spots her beloved’s hand upon the gray haired girls shoulder, an inward longing of such carefree affection had been addressed to her instead of that doll.

then…disgust soon follows. it sets deep within her stomach as vivid memories flash into her mind of her mother straggling a younger rei to death before tossing herself over to her die on top of her own MAGI. certainly ritsuko should suppress that likeness, but every mirrored action & feeling…she finds herself disappointed that she had simply picked up where her mother had ended. a twisted way of following a parents footsteps in a disgusting likeness.

& yet she is self aware enough that she can bury that hatred, even if it’s all for the pathetic need for gendo’s approval and esteem.

❝ rei, it’s time for your evaluation. i want to make sure that you’ve recovered fully, alright ? ❞

There were no illusions before her, nary a misconception either; o’ insidious being, beast masked as a woman whom was both a fool & the deceiver, to believe that hatred could die while in the same breath her envy eclipsed her everything... especially when the woman before her. The ‘good doctor’, feigning compassion, held long standing desire to have his sinful fruit—mockingly called ‘love’—and have it to herself. It was a lie that both she, and her mother, bought into willingly as the name Akagi falls head over heels, and crawls on knees toward a man who would never, ever truly requite anything to them beyond as a means.

Oh— Rei could see this all very clearly, and even more so, does the memory linger of the first time the girl spoke out... much like the scars she harbors from another life, clinging to her the same way the woman clamored for that man.

It is, as the metaphor goes, ‘ the apple ’ falling not too far from the tree.

❛ Yes, Dr. Akagi. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( ikari‌. )

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

        REI ALWAYS MANAGES to surprise him with the things she has to say, for someone who has gained a reputation for being reserved. It’s strange, but if Shinji is to go to anyone for advice on this matter, it’s Rei. What she says isn’t always what he wants to hear ( he wishes a clear-cut solution would be laid out for him, that he could take a path that didn’t lead into the unknown ), but she’s the easiest person to talk to. Blunt as she is in giving her advice, there’s a fondness to her counsel; an almost familial sort.

          Perhaps she’s right. He’s terrified of getting hurt, but he doesn’t want to have any regrets.

          Shinji inhales deeply. Exhales. ❝ You might be right. I…I don’t know how to say it, but — I want to at least try. ❞ And there are hints of a smile that cause the very corners of his lips to twitch, just slightly.

          ❝ Thank you, Ayanami. I…it’s still scary, but I feel a little better about it. You really do have the answers. ❞

Breathlessly—Rei nodded back, although the boy had since turned his back to her, the girl nonetheless acknowledges him & his attempt. To it all, the end would soon prove it fruitless with witness of a colder, harsher reality that gripped like heartless steel against the body, asphyxiating before crushing as knowledge of what’s to come would bewail hereafter from then on. But, all the same, knowledge of what regret does to those whom refuse to hold another close before the end proved a far more haunting fate. Either way, his crescendo was close at hand, and soon, it would return to despair—then nothing there on. Oh, how she loathed playing into his hand like this and let him crack what’s already fragile.

But, Rei did have to agree to it: for the boy deserved the chance to be close to someone once for himself. To have his hand held one time himself, just as he held her own hand and made her whole...

[ayanxmi]

( yui. )

 Pale  and  ostensibly  unreachable,  while  the  girl  reminded  others  of  herself  when  Yui  sees  Rei  she  thinks  of  something  else.  Something  she  longs  for  with  giddy  nostalgia.     ❛ Did  he  ever  tell  you  about  snow? ❜      It  comes  out  seemingly  out  of  the  blue  and  with  no  explicit  specification  as  to  who  she  refers  to  though  it  goes  tacitly  implied  ——  an  unknowingly  instinct  assumption  of  her  behalf  that  Rei  would  pick  up  on  the  subtlety.  Still,  the  question  is  audibly  purposeful  in  intention  and  excited  at  the  prospect  of  winter  days  being  once  more  for  her  children  to  see  for  themselves.  She  knows  it  is  unlikely  she’d  get  to  see  them  playing  in  the  snow  as  she  could’ve  in  another  life,  but  to  see  them  at  all  is  gift  of  its  own.  Her  heart  pours  into  a  smile  with  that  thought.     ❛ I  think  you’d  like  it  better  than  the  unbearable  summer  hot. ❜       //    @ayanxmi

❛ It’s listless, ❜ Before them, the ground was pale & sullen; the Earth seemed as though it slept beneath a blanket of white, feeling dour as it piled itself uneven all the way to the grey horizon that eclipsed all color as her hand reached toward it’s cold, cold shoulder. ❛ That’s all he had told me about it. ❜ The sorrow in her voice, palpable as the snow itself, made honest her perspective to her mother as she breathlessly carries on, completely aware of the intent at play as she hopelessly embraces the cold as if it were her own climate—it was wistful thinking, eager to connect in some way, longing even to feel what was lost to her; she had been desperate to feel again... but, as much as either could try, it is only the cold that can ever reach the distance over: like a winter breeze, only less defined than even that as all she spoke was a whisper. ❛ I’m not sure how to feel about it. ❜

[ayanxmi]

( fifth‌. )

        Maybe he – the being known as Tabris, the Seventeeth, the Messenger; Adam, the First, the Seed; Nagisa Kaworu, the Fifth Child, the Vessel – is truly as selfish as she believes. Selfless in his selfishness, in his sacrifice, because all he does is hurt, hurt, hurt, tear open the wounds he desperately tries to close, soothe, and heal. All for the sake of love, of humanity, of being of use to someone, something outside of what he is to those old men ( a dog, a weapon ). He could be something more ( hope, hope, hope ).

                                ( My life was meaningful because of you. )

        But what for? As each cycle brings the boy more pain, is always what causes him to snap, spiral, because Ikari Shinji is always the end of Nagisa Kaworu whether he crushes him within his palm or if he is forced to only sit and watch. It is selfish; the Fifth is so terribly, terribly selfish. That terrible, little part of him that wants to take the boy away with him, that wants Shinji and all of Shinji’s attention never fails to rear its ugly head.

                                                 ( Don’t ignore me! Say something! )

        Selfless in his selfishness, yes, and… selfish in her selflessness, perhaps. The two of them alike, but not the same. Still, the more lives he lives, the more he learns. He is no longer that brash, scared young creature who lashed out in his confusion and demanded all or nothing. Charging into the boy’s heart head-on only causes it to shut him out. Too much distance gives no chance for that heart to open at all. So he tries, as best he can, to be a shoulder to lean on, a guide, without fighting each of Ikari Shinji’s battles like he wishes he could, because he wants him to learn, wants him to become stronger than he is, wants him to give him the hope that he can be. To know how to fight for himself, to be his own person, outside of the expectations of others ( of his father ).

        Yet, if Shinji were to ask, Kaworu would burn the entire world into ash in an instant. In fact, he needn’t ask at all, as he has already done that for the boy in more than one life and will undoubtedly do so in many more.

        “What would you have me do?”

        It’s funny, the being of free will requesting orders from the being that has no understanding of the term. Another thing they have in common: the tight leashes wrapped around their necks, no matter how much of their own will they do or do not possess. Raised in isolation, treated as objects, only knowing the orders given to them.

        His hands remain in his pockets, wrists turned inward to hide the marks he left behind in those attempts to remind himself he is alive and his body is so very human even if his soul is far from it. Sand white as snow shifts beneath his feet as he moves, circling her, feline in his movements. The world is dead quiet. There isn’t even a whisper of wind to break the silence.

        “Why do you remain in this cycle of death and rebirth?” Kaworu pauses just behind her, dipping his head far down to reach her much shorter height, peering around for any sort of shift in her expression. It remains inscrutable as ever. It is not unexpected.

        “Why do you remain? Why do you exist? For what purpose? Is it him?”

        His eyes narrow, red as the sea lapping at the shore.

        “Is it love?”

❛ Love? ❜ his question in verbatim on the girl’s lips; midst the turbulence that resonated through the silence, echoing out anywhere in the vacuum which settled between them. The Fifth peers away, leering over her as though he were some kind of predatory animal, inching his teeth close & closer to her neck in retaliation. It wouldn’t be the first time, NOR the last, that she would be guilty for yet another of her demises as the words she spoke deeply wounded and wound up her contrary.

But, rather than dread the inevitable... she can find only pity—for THEY were alike, both in their contradictions and their pain. They truly were bound, imprisoned both by nature & by their nurturer; forever knowing that the other would slip further towards the greater oblivion that comes with ambiguity. He, the harbor of life, would find his waters further polluted as the rivers that flow to him begin to narrow, and his free will diminishes to an afterthought before his obsession. 

( But that was his choice, and his choice to choose after all. )

That was curse which came with knowledge: whilst the decline, she could easily bear witness his fate and all others as their choices come to be repetitious—a heartbeat, which steadily weakened the further he chose... but, much as he found himself helpless, she too could ONLY witness. Those words, try as she might, could never leave her lips they way she intended, and further trapping herself to the knowledge of her own self-destruction. A knowing failure to the very end as metaphorical hands grasp at her throat, snapping the girl in two as she’s doomed to do so, again & again.

           So, why does she remain?—to return to the question.

What purpose does she have to exist at all? Why does she bother at all? How could she bring herself to care at all? In knowing, she should have long found futility and embraced it as readily as she accepted her death time and again; and, in many, many ways, he might indeed be more right in his intent than her as he continues fruitlessly each & every time to his own demise, foolishly hoping in something she might not fully understand herself...

But—IF he were to notice, just as she noticed the scars he hid inward, he’d have already known the answer to his question by seeing the marks left behind each & every time her body faded before her soul, if he were to notice the invisible marks left behind that she wore openly to him.

Her eyes turn to face him again; a shimmer rare in them, warmly looking ahead as though they were a sunset, illuminating the sea before the girl as she states her reason.

❛ Maybe, maybe not—but I know I exist because of him. ❜

For that alone, Rei could admit what selfishness she had—and would endure it all for the boy.

[alexiadraws]

wanted to try warm tones on rei, cool tones on asuka  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[ayanxmi]

The power was out; the room derelict and the atmosphere dead, air stagnating between the two girls as time became harder to gauge—was it minutes, or hours by this point? It was hard to say, as darkness was vague & offered no solace to speak of. Though, it would be hard for whether to imagine either at any rate by the way of the other, this one named Asuka, grew all the more irritable, enraged not only by this hindrance in their path... but the fact she had to share this burden, of all people, with her—the one person she despised more than anything. Rei could feel the animosity ( and her pain ) from the gate glowing off her—the only thing she could make out from this blackness. An ugly feeling, made all the uglier the longer this mood droned on. As tolerable as she was, the rare nerve could still be struck as it continued—til finally, she speaks:

❛ You can’t keep hitting that door expecting it to open. ❜

@derverlust​

[ayanxmi]

( ikari. )

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

     HE WISHES THAT

               this weren’t so confusing, yet so simple at the same time. It’s clear what Rei believes he should do, yet something inside him screams that he can’t; he’ll be rejected, he’ll be turned away, something will happen the moment he opens up and he’ll only be hurt again. After all, fourteen years of just that have taught him that matters of the heart can only end in heartbreak. Why should this be any different?

               ( But then, why does Kaworu extend his hand to him? )

               ❝ You make it sound so simple, ❞ comes his lament. ❝ I admire that, Ayanami. But even if I say something…even if I want to, I…I don’t know how. ❞

❛ Nothing is so simple, ❜ she catches where his doubt is. The problem, as it always had been, was that he was had become so engrossed in his feelings that, like his father, he lost his way and did not know what to do with them. The fourteen years he’s lived, he’s only known what seclusion was like—what it was like for the heart to wither, and to die. At his core, all he wants to be able to say is: I love you. ❛ The hardest thing to do is to say something. We close off our heart’s desire out of fear for what we might hear, what they might say in return. It is not an easy thing to bear, but would it be better to say nothing when you could have? ❜

He is young; and there is still time to know what it’s like to feel another’s hand than his own—for him to not feel as alone as he does; but he has to choose for himself...

( —and she’s long since reconciled herself to that fact. )

❛ The choice is yours. ❜

[ayanxmi]

continued from. / @serapostle​

His fury, though far off, was comparable to an oncoming storm; destruction foretold, devastation foreseen, and ruin nigh at hand as thunder echoes, with waves racing towards the coast, and the air runs cold. With such a threat looming, she should be afraid...

It was, however, foretold—every ill omen of his seen, awaited even, well beforehand as she stood on that shoreline, not even batting an eye as his terrible wrath is reduced to little more than a protest before her. If this was the wrath of God, in all of His fury, then his menace fell beneath her heel as she remained unshaken, still standing midst the tempest as though it were just a breeze—amounting to nothing.

Nonetheless, to say she wasn’t as furious as he would be mistaken, as she felt a frenzied thing deep inside that shook the earth beneath, a cool interior melting away as the sky begun to blacken and wanted to erupt to the surface, waiting. The side stolen from her wanted nothing more than to lash out, like his, and melt away the Lilin, the flesh he took, and wore for his own selfish desire.

The difference however is in their desire.

The Fifth was a selfish being to his core: it was and always will be a matter of him, himself, and his interests; and the boy merely was something that fell on what he desired. He brings hope to the boy, Ikari, and his frail heart, but only to claim it with each & every time he passes on. A self-serving cycle, hurting to gain what was fleeting every time... that chance to be human like him.

It was only denial he brought. An excuse for both him & the boy to hurt, and feel alive... rather than actually be alive. It was a false happiness, escaping every time he finished this act.

Rei however, never once considered how it was she felt, only what she could do for him. It was in her nature, as a selfless soul, to help not only the boy—but the Fifth even, despite the fury she feels inside for what he is, what he’s said, and what he’s done to him. The girl knows she’s not innocent, not ignoring that she has, in turn, caused the boy considerable pain along the way, but she also knows that in the thousands of times she had died, the hundreds of ways she has died, and the many more she will perhaps die... she has given him the choice to truly be happy: to turn that glass heart into something sturdier than what either of them could provide by his own choice alone.

So contrary to him, Rei takes his poison and embraces him as he were the same.

❛ What are you going to do about it? ❜

[rainbowswaguwu-deactivated20210]

old one

[ayanxmi]

( asuka. )

        ❛ ASUKA ! ❜ cried misato katsuragi from the control room, and the second could picture the furrowed brow, could feel the spit flying from her lips as she pleaded for the child to calm down. ❛ you need to LET GO ! ❜ but asuka merely ignored the plea and gripped harder, indenting ‘ hand prints ’ into the metal of the first child’s unit. 

        ❛ what the FUCK were you thinking, wonder girl !? ❜ she screamed, simply rewording her earlier demand. she rattled the evangelion with even greater force, letting go only when she was sure that rei would not be able to control its balance any longer. yes – it would crash into the ground, and asuka langley soryu would emerge victorious, having retained better control over her evangelion unit than rei ayanami, ikari’s PERFECT CHILD. they would praise the second … they would be proud of her … 

        but instead of words of praise, misato yelled again. ❛ ASUKA ! this test is OVER. ❜

It was useless; meaningless to resist, & moreso to humor her pain. Though pressure is simulated, the fact was very real as she glared on—the image of the other digging into her, both figuratively and literally, about the why? Again, blinded by her own arrogance, turning ignorant of the truth both knew as self-loathing turns into actual loathing as Rei continues to be the mirror that so painfully reflects what had been true again & again:

Instead of praise, she was condemned—all because she couldn’t see past herself, her selfishness, and ultimately her own inferiority at heart.

Thereat, she would not turn away from her. Though she bled out her bleeding heart, desperate to reclaim what was lost; the abyss would not give, and the mirror would not relent as, in it’s remorselessness, would not allow her to crawl back; the soul-tearing glare of a girl, even when being beaten back and held hostage by her grip, likewise would not yield.

It would be that, inevitably, the other would be the harbinger of her own destruction.