Quick update to keep things moving along. Apologies that this chapter is short!

Also I want to apologize about all the spelling/grammar mistakes in my work. It's mostly a product of my burst-of-energy style of writing. I've been slowly but surely going through older chapters to fix them, also TRYING to be more careful with my current uploads. Hopefully it's okay!

Shoutouts to the guest readers, zoie2asuka and TNO (wow!) for your comments! I hope you like this chapter, as small as it is. I'll do my best to keep things going at a reasonable pace.

Shinji Ikari dragged his feet as he climbed the shoddy stairs that led up to his old apartment. In the wake and shock of Kaworu's literal disappearance, Shinji had excused himself rigidly from Toji's company, unwilling to drag him any further along than he already had been.

Instead, he ended up wandering around the neighborhood… and before he knew it he had found himself wandering not-so-innocently back to his old place. The very same he had been holed up for multiple years as a shut-in.

Part of him still didn't want to admit to what he was currently doing, but as he lifted up the doormat in front of his door, the bitterness of his retreat welled up within him:

There it was, as he had feared. The key he had left there a couple of weeks back was still there, untouched.

I told myself I wouldn't come back, but apparently… that option is still open, as shameful as it is. Shinji thought ashamedly, as he picked up the key he had hidden.

Maybe it shouldn't surprised him that much, given that he had never actually spoken to his father in-person about his plans to cut ties, but as Shini entered the tiny apartment he couldn't help but feel as small and as insignificant as perhaps he ever had:

Clearly no one (not even the landlord) had taken notice of his weeks-long absence.

Not like anyone really took notice of me in the first place. Between my old hikikomori life and me now physically not being here… there's no noticeable difference, clearly. It's like I was a ghost…

It made sense, in a depressing way. Shinji knew his father had only been paying his rent out of some arms-length, impersonal sense of responsibility. Like checking a box on a form, it was done without much thought other than to avoid longer, more difficult-to-have conversations… and Shinji had been more than willing to be complacent in that arrangement. Whether Shinji was actually present in the apartment was of little noticeable matter.

Clearly.

Shinji looked around at the familiar surroundings, although his old room was now stripped nearly bare, looking almost sterile. Any and all trace of his shut-in existence had been practically scrubbed clean. He had sold his admittedly large collection of games, manga and DVDs (including, guiltily, Kensuke's admittedly valuable collection) to the nearby second-hand store in order to scrounge up some money to get by without relying on his fathers bank account.

…here he was, though, seeking to hide away here yet again. Burrowing himelf away in the shelter his dad had coldly but dutifully provided for him… to call this a huge step backwards in-the-making was an understatement.

Just what the hell am I going to do…

Perhaps it had as much to do with how empty and cold his room was now, but Shinji felt an empty helplessness wash over him as he laid down on the cold tatami floor.

I just… can't go back to Misato's place right now… though I'm not too sure when I'll feel comfortable being around her again.

Shinji's words to her had been a bit too pointed and venomous last time:

"You want to use me to 'blow off some more steam'?"

"Who cares if she was just 'using' me…" Shinji complained out loud to himself. "Who fucking cares, Shinji?!"

…fuck.

Shini knew who would care about Misato's advances, of course… at least in theory. That same theory hinged on the fact that that same "Who" actually loved him back, though. She had only said the "L word" while drugged up after a messy suicide attempt, after all. That confession had come across more as a parting admission than anything related to the future. It was all just… retrospective.

…she might as well be a ghost too, with the way I'm thinking about her…

Shinji's thoughts drifted back to Kaworu's words earlier that night:

"If there's a chance... it could be worth looking into."

"It's simple, Shinji... if there's anything you feel you should be doing, but you aren't... it's best not to put it off any longer. Now is the time to get your affairs in order."

"Like it'd be so easy…" Shinji groaned, pulling his legs closer to his chest, shivering slightly.

"The end... is closer than you think."

What is that foreboding crap supposed to mean? What the hell happened to him in the first place? He just disappeared out of thin air… exactly like Rei did back in Kagawa.

Hell, if anyone really should be called a ghost here, it's…

Shinji shook his head, nuzzling his face into the cold tatami mat.

I… truly hate myself…

Slowly but surely, he drifted off to sleep.

"H-how could you say you were busy?" Shinji asked sadly, feeling a sharp tinge of guilt in his heart. It was a guilt he knew he had no business feeling, sure, but letting his emotions slip in front of his dad like this was something he was certain he had grown out of.

"It couldn't be helped, Shinji." Gendo explained, coldly. "Something came up."

Shinji avoided his eyes, looking around at his apartment. It was cleaned spotless for once, in careful preparation for his father's planned arrival, as late as it now was. The two of them shared the still cramped space, sitting across from each other at Shinji's kotatsu. Untouched, rapidly cooling cups of tea were sitting on the table in front of them, placed there absentmindedly as a brief distraction, earlier.

"S-still… it's one of the only times we see each other." Shinji explained, staring at the tea. "Isn't that important enough to not brush off, at least for Mom's sake?"

"I… apologize, Shinji." Gendo replied, simply. There was no warmth in the statement, however. "I had more pressing matters-"

"I d-dont want to hear you just explain this away, honestly." Shinji cut him off, steeling himself as he glared at him. "It's the anniversary of Mom's death and you forgot."

"I didn't forget."

"Being busy isn't an excuse here!"

Shinji's raised voice took Gendo by surprise, if only for a moment, before his usual stoicism returned.

"Shinji… grieving isn't something that takes place on just one day of the year, as I'm sure you know." Gendo pushed up his glasses. "I've explained this to you before; it's an empty grave, Shinji, her body isn't-"

"I know! I-I know. That doesn't make it any less important…" Shinji shook his head. "Any less… hurtful."

Gendo sat in silence for a while.

"Y-you got rid of… everything." Shinji added, gripping the edge of the kotatsu angrily. "Fuyutsuki-sensei warned me you would, but… still, not

even a picture… I'm starting to forget what Mom even looked like."

Shinji looked at his father, desperate for some sort of sign his words were being considered. His fathers eyes were glued elsewhere, seemingly preoccupied with the beautiful day passing by outside the apartment window.

"Shinji… everything we need is in our heart and our mind." Gendo replied, finally. "Your mother is still a part of you, as abstract as that may seem. It might be painful but… embracing her in whatever ways you can… that will have to do… for now."

Shinji glared at him. "Why do you think you have any right to tell me how to deal with this…"

"I don't." Gendo adjusted his glasses. "You're your own person, Shinji. I can't tell you how to live."

Shinji didn't respond, feeling the put in his stomach growing heavier by the second.

Bringing his wrist up to his gaze, Gendo noted the time on his wristwatch. "...I'm needed elsewhere."

Shinji nodded bitterly; he knew that statement wasn't an invitation to protest or argue. It was merely a statement of his intent, steely as ever.

Gendo walked over to the entrance of his apartment, turning back robotically after putting on his shoes.

"...Goodbye, Shinji." Gendo announced, though Shinji failed to even make eye-contact. "Next year I-"

"I don't want to hear any more excuses…" Shinji shook his head, bringing his knees close up to his chest, burying his face in them. "Just go."

Shinji was unsure how his father reacted, face still hiding in his fetal-like position. All he heard was the closing of his apartment door followed by a deafening silence.

Alone with that heavy pit… Shinji couldn't help but start to cry, letting loose a knot of emotion that had been building ever since his father had failed to show up at his mothers grave.

Shinji continued to cry, but soon he was shocked by the sudden touch of two arms wrapping around him in a consoling hug. As he looked up he saw Rei, body glowing with an ethereal outline.

Rei?

"It's okay, Shinji… please don't cry…"

"What are you doing here?"

"It's okay."

"B-but…"

Shinji tried to protest but she merely hugged him tightly.

"Shh… just let it out."

Shinji, caught off guard by her soothing words, found his further protests being overtaken by an overwhelming, crippling sadness.

"I… hate everything… I hate myself…" Shnji sobbed into Rei's chest, unsure if he could even be understood amidst his hysterics. "I… miss Asuka…"

"Shinji… promise me… you won't lose hope. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, as dim as it may be."

"...h-huh?' Shinji looked up, but before he knew it he felt as if he was falling backwards into nothingness.

Shinji came to, looking up at the ceiling of his empty apartment. He shivered, thinking back on what just happened.

Fuck… what a dream…

…

No, that was a memory… but Rei was there… what the hell…

Shinji's body felt heavy and lethargic, almost as if the tears he had just shed had been real, sapping him of whatever traces of energy he had at this point. In fact, taking a moment to focus on those tears only led Shinji back down that familiar painful path, and soon enough he felt the tears welling up again in his eyes, perhaps stronger than ever.

"Mom… I… miss you…" He whined, reaching up to cover his face. "Why did you have to die…"

I never knew you, though… why do I… fuck…

Shinji gave up any pretense of holding back, devolving into full on sobbing in his empty, sterile apartment. The tears came and went in waves for several minutes as he laid there, practically motionless except for the heaving of his stomach.

For some reason as the tears began to slowly subside, Shinji's thoughts drifted back to earlier tonight and the foreboding words of his "friend".

"Do know, though, that if you ever change your mind about me and my advice… I'll be more than happy to come back around to lend a hand."

Shinji continued to lay on his tatami-floor, motionless. At his wits end, he removed his hands from his now puffy red eyes and called out:

"Kaworu…"

Appearing above him out of thin air, Kaworu now looked down at him with his hands in his pockets, leaning over slightly as if to listen expectantly. His red eyes practically glowed in the dark of the apartment.

"Yes, Shinji?"

"I… need help."

Kaworu smiled. "I know."

"...who are you? What are you?"

Kaworu took a moment to look around the room. "That will take some time to explain, among a slew of other things. Though this place isn't as warm and lived-in as it once was… I guess here will have to do given the time of night…"

Shinji sat up, confused. He turned back partially to Kaworu.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"We should get comfortable. This may take a while."