They walked.
Sometimes their feet would sink into the sticky mud beneath the surface of the water. Then the dry sand would cling to their ankles when they emerged. By mid morning the sun on the water was blinding, and they were both panting from the heat and the exertion.
But they kept walking.
By noon the nagging and whining had begun. She'd taken a wrong step and flopped headlong beneath the surface of a particularly deep pool. When she came back up, she was gasping and furious, cursing him for his clumsy attempts to help her and spraying water in his eyes even as she grasped his arm in a vice-like grip. When they'd made it to the far side, she'd doubled over with her hands on her knees, giving him a death glare from beneath the fiery wet hair clinging to her head and shoulders.
"That is the last time I let you choose what path to take," she coughed.
"H-hey, you're the one who wanted to come this way," he said, indignant.
She wasn't listening. She was cursing and spitting. They'd already tried the strange red fluid earlier in the day - or rather, she'd made him try it - and determined it wasn't fit to drink. Now she was getting a taste of it herself, and it only seemed to remind her how thirsty she was.
They both were. They hadn't found a single thing worth eating or drinking thus far and the day was half gone. He wasn't even sure what they were looking for anymore. If anything remained of NERV headquarters, they would've reached it by now, assuming they were going in the right direction. He didn't know if there would be anyone there, or if they'd be able to help them if there were. Out of habit their feet were trying to return them there, if for no other reason than to confirm the one constant in their lives for the past year.
By nightfall the sweltering heat had been replaced by a bitterly cold wind. They'd flopped down with their backs against a rise in the land, hoping to take shelter from the dry gusts that rippled over the water. He couldn't make her out where she'd sat and rubbed her sore feet earlier while the sun set behind them. He found himself wishing to hear some sort of confirmation that he wasn't alone on this dark, desolate planet. But he couldn't think of anything to say. So instead he lay back and looked up at the striking constellations and tried to ignore his hunger, his thirst, and the cold.
At last a voice sounded from surprisingly close in the darkness off to his left. "Hey, Shinji… Do you think…"
She didn't have to finish. They had both been thinking it.
"No way!" He spoke loudly into the stillness, trying to convince himself as much as her. "They've got to be out there… somewhere. They wouldn't just leave us like this. Not after everything that's happened."
They lapsed into silence, broken only by the lapping of the waves against the shore. At length the sound of her steady breathing told him she was asleep.
There was evening and there was the morning, the first day.
