Hello there. o u o
This is my first fanfic. Ever. I can physically feel the darkness engulfing me. I'm sure there will be no escape, especially when it comes to Kawoshin.
I really haven't been this passionate about a ship in a long time. God, do I love these dorks. This beginning portion is set five years before the majority of what I'll be writing. Get ready for Librarian!Kaworu and College!Shinji fluff galore. Seriously, this first part will, most likely, have the most angst. I jUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY.
Ahem. /clearsthroat/ So, anyway, I hope it's enjoyable. I'm super self-conscious about my writing... this is a step I gotta take to see what I'm capable of.
Thanks! Alright, here it is! Get your movie theater butter popcorn, the fic's a'startin'!
o v o
"If I can stop one heart from breaking… I shall not live in vain… "
Effervescent, exuberant rays of sunshine trickled through the window's blinds, illuminating each word of the poem, and speckling Shinji's serene features. The library had never been so eerily vacant, so void of eager minds. Shinji soaked in that peace like it was his life-source; happiness was silence and a good poem. At least, it was the closest to happiness he'd get. All that could be heard was his light and airy whispers, combined with the occasional whoosh of a fresh spring breeze, and to be honest, there wasn't much difference between the two. When anguish wasn't plaguing Shinji's face, he would glow; he would bloom, and become as enrapturing as the flowers finally revealing themselves. He was a determined, ambitious, poised twenty-year-old student, with bounds to offer and kindness to share. Tell him all that, and he'd think you were talking about someone else.
"If I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain, or help one fainting robin, unto his nest again… I shall not live in vain."
Creak.
He jumped and swung around, flinging the book into the shelf across from him.
A boy, around his age, with gray hair and odd, crimson eyes, stood before him, his hands raised to his chest. He was dressed in a deep plum blazer, matching slacks, and bright white sneakers, but what stuck out most were his chunky, black glasses. On someone else, they might have looked comical. On him, they enhanced his eccentricity, they worked with his overall quirkiness. His skin, absent of flaws, was pale to the point of concern, and Shinji almost blurted out, 'Are you sick?!' Because, well, he really didn't have time for that nonsense. Before he could, he was distracted by this spectacle's finger pointing in the direction of his hand, and a soft, angelic chuckle.
"I do hope you're not planning to stab me with that."
Shinji's eyes slowly shifted to his shaky hand. He hadn't realized he was gripping his mechanical pencil like a weapon. That… wasn't like him at all… was it?
"N-No, of course not—"
"It's my fault, I startled you, Ikari-kun." The boy said, extending a hand. "I am Kaworu, Nagisa Kaworu."
Shinji blinked. What on earth possessed him to do so, he would never know; he placed his pencil back down on the desk, and hesitantly reached out to shake Kaworu's hand. Why was he calm? Nothing about this situation should've made him calm.
"H-How do you… know my name?" Shinji whispered.
Their hands parted, and Shinji immediately felt robbed. Kaworu leaned over to scoop up the book, evaluated its cover, and then gazed back at Shinji.
"Emily Dickenson. A brilliant choice." He glided behind Shinji and set the book on the desk, the tips of his fingers still hovering above it. "There's more to her writing than meets the eye, of that I'm sure you know. Are you knowledgeable of what Robins can symbolize?"
" … "
All Shinji could do was plop back down in his chair. Paralyzed by intrigue, and dazzled by Kaworu's appearance, he was floating outside of himself like some beguiled spectator, watching to see how the interaction would unfold. He wanted to ask again how he knew his name. How does anyone know Shinji Ikari's name…
"A Red Robin appears, and we can almost be sure that spring is near. The return of warmth, and life. The birth of passion." As Kaworu spoke, he slid into the chair across from Shinji, and rested his chin above his laced hands. Everything about him was slender and delicate… enchanting. Thinking about that made Shinji shift in his seat.
He looked downward. "Do you think… she used the Robin to represent that?"
"What do you think, Ikari-kun?"
"Um… w-well… " Shinji fumbled over his words. All kinds of eloquent questions and educated responses formulated in his brain, but they jumbled together into a mismatched mess of awkward, and, eventually, he just spat out, "How the hell do you know my name?!"
The outburst pierced through the previous serenity, and yet, Kaworu wasn't phased in the slightest. He was still grinning. He was still waiting for an answer. Shinji huffed, rubbing his forehead.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"The previous Librarian mentioned you with great fondness. She said you visit often, and are refreshingly obedient," His smile… his smile was so sweet, "I hope to see you again, Ikari Shinji."
"Wait! You're… the new Librarian?"
"Mhm!" Was his smile getting wider and wider, or was Shinji simply imagining that?
"O-Oh, um… how?"
Kaworu laughed, if you could call it a laugh. How Shinji wished he could have that sound on a loop; he could live in it, melt into it…
"That's a story for another day… perhaps, tomorrow? I've yet to have a guest at my apartment. I'd very much enjoy cooking for a new friend."
"Are you… asking me over for dinner?"
"Tomorrow, does six o'clock sound alright?"
Every fiber of Shinji's being was screaming no. No, no, no. He was trying to figure out what Kaworu could want… what Kaworu could gain… the whole thing was bizarre. And, at the same time… hell, Shinji wanted to have dinner with him. Push, and then pull, push again. Push won in the end. It always did.
"No… No, I can't. S-Sorry, Kawor—Nagisa-sensei… "
"Please, call me Kaworu."
"No."
"BAKA-SHINJIIIIII!"
Shinji halted mid-stride, a lengthy, low sigh (with a small growl) fell from his lips, and before he knew it, two girls were draping their arms around his shoulders. He had gotten out of one uncomfortable situation only to enter another.
"Have you heaaardddd?!" Asuka squealed in his ear.
"I guess the new Librarian's dashing!" Mari's screeching was equally as unpleasant.
"Hhhng, why do you think I care? And who says 'dashing' anymore?" Shinji groaned.
"Who cares?!" Asuka slapped Shinji upside the head, "We gotta go scope it out!"
He rubbed his neck, glaring at her, "It?! Nagisa-sensei is a person, ya know."
Both the girls stopped, and gasped.
"You know his name?"
"Did you meet him?"
"Is he like they say he is?"
"Is he cute?"
"Why would I THINK HE'S CUTE? GOD, ARE WE STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL?" Shinji grimaced and stormed away from the nuisances, his hands curling into tight fists. He had to get back to his room; he had to study, or listen to music. Yeah, listen to his SDAT. Who did Nagisa-sensei think he was, making him feel weird like that? Hana-sensei, the previous librarian, would have never done such a thing! It was wrong! When had she decided to leave, anyway?
"Ohhh! Who am I kidding?!" He cursed to himself in a hushed, violent tone. Deciding he didn't have the physical or emotional energy to make it all the way inside, he threw his bag down beside him and sprawled out on the grass outside the dorm.
"He's… not cute… he's… sexy… "
"Who's sexy, now?"
Shinji shot up straight, his face red enough to signal vehicles to stop.
"K-Kensuke?! Gahhh—" He fell backwards as quickly as he sat up, covering the evidence of his embarrassment with his hands, making whatever he said awfully hard to understand, "Mmsomeone mor something mwants me dead today, I mswear." Kensuke laughed and lounged next to Shinji, throwing his arms behind his head.
"Sooooo, who's sexy, Shinji-kun—"
"Mm-no mone."
"Hmmmm? I can't hear you with your hands over your face like th—"
He dropped his hands to his stomach, "No one."
"Right."
"I gotta go, I feel sick, EP-" Shinji yelped when Kensuke grabbed his arm.
"You can't just keep sexy people to yourself, learn how to share!"
Shinji stared at him in bewilderment, baffled by the demand.
"You've gotta be kidding."
Kensuke giggled, "Yeah, a bit, but, c'mon, man! We never just… do stuff like this anymore, ya know? We can still act like dumb teenagers even if we aren't teenagers, right? C'monnnn. Spill it! Is she new? Have you liked her for a while?"
Shinji huffed, pulling his arm from Kensuke and snatching up his bag, "I said, I feel sick."
"Loooove sick?"
"Goddammit! What is with all of you today?! I mean, fuck!"
"Shinji… relax. Your whole body's, like… shaking."
Huh, Kensuke was right. What was causing it? Fear? Rage? Excitement? Shinji wasn't sure. Shinji wasn't sure of anything right now. Was he ever sure of anything? Wait. Yes… yes he was.
Without another word, Shinji was gone, his body moving on its own… jogging on its own. Kensuke was yelling something behind him, but it sounded miles away. His ears were plugged, his motions were fluid and filled with purpose; he was underwater on the surface. Nothing made sense, and everything made sense. Fear, rage, excitement, all three were burning up his veins, and all three stemmed from one truth. Truth, a concept lost to him from a ripe age. Relationships where the foundation consisted of fabricated truths were what he knew. Constant manipulation, constant lies, constant sharp pain stinging his eyes. From the day he was born, he had no idea where he was going, or what he was supposed to do. What do I do? What is my destiny? Tell me what I should be doing!
On that day, he made a decision to run into the fire, instead of away from it. He solidified his own truth… this one truth.
"N-Nagisa-sensei!"
Kaworu popped his head out from behind one of the shelves, still smiling as vibrantly as ever.
"Ikari Shinji? Is everything alright?" He gently set a novel back on the cart he was sorting and trotted over to the other male, "Did you… run here?"
"Y-Yeah… " He took a deep breath, "I'll, um, join you for dinner tomorrow night, if you'd s-still like me to, of course, t-to, to discuss poetry—"
"Oh, yes, I'd like that."
Shinji emitted a sound somewhere between a happy sigh and a snort.
"Y-Yeah, okay, thank you, Nagisa-sensei." He offered Kaworu a timid bow.
"Please, call me Kaworu."
"B-But… "
Kaworu lightly waved his hand, "I insist."
Shinji smiled, their eyes connected, and they were two stars colliding; two universes morphing into one; two souls swirling into a private oblivion that they created together.
"Yes, Kaworu."