Shinji did not enjoy his job, necessarily, but he found a great deal of contentment in it. It was a disaster relief center for refugees and "dislocated peoples," and each day he did grunt work that made some facet of their life easier. Packing hygiene kits, sorting food, moving boxes, taking phone calls. The pay was minimal, the hours were short, Asuka had only snide comments about it. But he was content. It was something like fulfillment.

At work, he wore a cap and rarely spoke. He made every effort not to stand out, not to be recognized. A UN agent always watched him. Shinji recognized the one today, standing in the corner on his phone. They'd followed him ever since the shooting. He imagined it was Misato's orders.

Toji grazed him on the arm as he walked by. "Cleanup on aisle 3. We have a loonie," he grunted. Shinji looked away from packing a box to see him cock his head near the entrance. He saw a middle-aged man with a grimy face talking frantically to the front-desk person.

"No no no no see here I've been here I here I've been me me no see here," he babbled as if he was afraid his tongue would disappear. Though they were a good distance away, his voice echoed through the warehouse.

"It's sad," he whispered, his face downcast. Toji shrugged.

"Pitiful," he chimed in. A thick pause followed, pockmarked by the rattling of the man's voice. "Hey, you wanna get something to eat after work?"

"Oh, no," he answered shyly, turning back to his box. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his UN tail leave his corner, towards the babbling man's direction. "I, uh… Asuka's home tonight."

Toji snorted. "She can eat take-out for once in her life, you know."

Shinji frowned, glancing sideways at Toji. He seemed to realize he touched a nerve as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, is it wrong to wanna hang out every now and then? I barely even see Ken anymore…"

"I—I know." Shinji stopped moving his hands as he heard the man yelp frantically. He was being dragged out of the center. He grimaced. "How about tomorrow night? Asuka and Misato are probably, uh, working late."

"It's a plan." He clapped his shoulder as he walked off. "Take it easy!"

Shinji watched him as he walked off. His baggy work pants draped unnaturally over his prosthetic. The man was still screaming outside.

He turned back to the personal care box, its contents disheveled, and refocused. Cold sweat blanketed the back of his neck.

Shinji stepped out of the apartment. Dinner was tense and Asuka was barely speaking to him since last night. He stepped to the window and leaned against it, watching the rain cascade on the street outside. His breathing was fast and irregular again, and now he tried timing it with the fall of the drops… brisk, smooth… down and down and down and down, in out in out…

"Shinji!" He jumped and looked back to see Misato barreling towards him. She slowed instantly when she saw him looking at her.

"Don't walk off without saying anything," she sighed, folding her arms and looking at him expectantly. He nodded weakly before turning back to the window. The night was increasingly dim, and he could only barely make out the shapes of the drops by the streetlight.

"I know… something happened with you and Asuka." Her voice was tense. She was walking on eggshells, or land mines. "It's not my place, I know, but… I wish you two would stop taking each other for granted." Her voice fell, now barely above a whisper. "Think of what happened last time."

"I don't take Asuka for granted," Shinji insisted, still looking out the window. "I just wanted some… some space."

He could see her shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head in her reflection in the window. "I understand. I just need to make sure that you're OK."

She took a step closer, and Shinji knew it was for a hug. He turned and they embraced, awkwardly, like ex-lovers. "Maybe we kind of are," but Shinji discarded that thought shamefully.

"I'll leave you alone. Just don't leave the building." She paused and made a face. "Please?"

Shinji took it as a command, despite her attempt to transform it into a request, and nodded. She walked back to the apartment.

He gingerly lifted the lower half of the window: it opened, and he peeked down through it to see the two-story fall to the sidewalk. It was wide enough to fit him. He was certain she had a UN tail watching him.

He thought he could even see them, as his eyes went back to the streetlight… except there was no coat or even an umbrella, and their hair seemed unkempt… they were getting pelted by the rain… and their form was so… slight…

He bolted to the stairs.

Kaworu was beginning to appreciate the feeling of the rain. Submerged in wetness felt peaceful, even happy. It reminded him of his first memory.

"KAWORU!" The voice was raw, loud, yet gentle. He smiled at the sound of it and looked to see a young man approaching, rushing into the light.

"Shinji." He nodded politely. "I am glad to see you."

"Wh-why are you here?!" He held a hand up above his eyes, maybe to shield them from the rain, but Kaworu thought he already looked wet beyond saving. In this moment, they were just alike.

"I did not like my new dwelling, but I do like rain." He very briefly glanced up at the sky. His eyes narrowed as his smile widened. "So, I left."

"Y-your new…" Shinji shook his head rapidly. Kaworu found the motion violent, and he rose his eyebrows in concern. "You can't stand out here! You have to go back home!"

"I do not want to. I walked all the way here." He leaned up against the light-pole, shoulders relaxed. "Why are you here?"

Shinji's breath caught for a moment. "I… I live here. Right here." He pointed dumbly back at the apartment building. Kaworu took in the sight of it nonchalantly, mostly because it was barely visible through the sheets of rain.

"What a coincidence," he whispered, his lips curled upwards in a catlike smile. "But that does not answer my question. Why are you here with me?"

Shinji's mouth hung just barely open, preparing to deliver an answer once he was ready to give one, but it was left standing on ceremony. Kaworu did not understand the pause, but he decided there was no rush to such a conversation. He waited for him to speak for nearly a minute.

"You… you needed my help." He shut his eyes tight after the words came out. "I mean… y-you looked like you did… maybe… but I guess you actually don't…" He sighed and re-opened his eyes. They looked weak and tired. "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. And… now I'm drenched…"

Kaworu thought that he had been "drenched" for the whole time they had been talking, and did not understand why he hadn't noticed until now. Shinji Ikari was a continual mystery.

"Are you sure you don't need help to get home?" He took a step backward as he spoke, and Kaworu realized that he was ending the conversation.

"I believe I know the way." Shinji nodded and retreated further, half-turning away. "Wait. Shinji."

He stopped jerkily.

"Are you afraid of other people?"

He thought it a reasonable question, but Shinji looked at him as if he had just accused him of an awful crime, or worse. Kaworu's smile disappeared and his face grew serious.

"No," he answered blankly.

"Man, as a creature, is fundamentally alone. Loneliness seems to crush the Lilin into pieces." Kaworu stared into his eyes. "You are fragile. Like glass. Yet you have not been broken. That earns my empa—"

"I don't want to hear that!" Shinji's voice was sudden and shrill, like an alarm. Kaworu physically flinched, eyes widening.

"Why, why, why?! Who the hell are you?!" Shinji barked, hands clenched into claws. Kaworu had to focus to hear his shouting as the rain grew in intensity. "You… you shouldn't exist! You should be gone! Why are you… why are you doing this to me?!"

Unsettled as he felt, the answer popped into Kaworu's mind instantly. "Because I was born to meet you."

Shinji's form went limp, his hands relaxed, his eyes grew overcast. They stared into each other's eyes, and once a grimly-dressed woman holding an umbrella appeared to lead Shinji back to the apartment, Kaworu watched his form retreat into the rain, and he imagined Shinji was looking back. He disappeared through the door, but Kaworu kept his eyes on where he imagined he was moving, up a stairwell, down a hall, into a room, lying in bed. The rain could block his eyes, but not his mind.

"I was born to meet you." He repeated the words to himself, but now they tasted bad on his tongue. "Born. Born. Born." That was the word, the sticking point that ruined the sentence. He knew it was a lie.

He kept his eyes fixed on the wall of the building, seeing a mirage of a supine Shinji. He closed his eyes and saw only him.

"Is it okay for me to be here?"