Author: Chauni

Email: ChauniMaxwell@mechpilot.com

Website: www.oocities.org/asukalangley2nd/

Warnings: Angst, Shinji P.O.V., Suicide

Disclaimer: I don’t own Evangelion, no matter how much I try, nor did I make any money off this.

The Death of a Hero

My thoughts are jumbled, but that is not so odd lately. It seems as though all my dreams and feelings are coming fast and hard, without any warning of such depression that always seems to follow. That is all there seems to be now, depression, longing, guilt.

The world, MY new world, seemed so bright and shining, like a new toy, when it was first created. But as with all new objects that catches one eye, the luster seems to fade and that interest slowly dissipates. My newfound happiness and confidence soon evaporated and again I was alone, always alone. I suffer now, but it is only penance for what I have done.

A few years after all was settled, the guilt began to set into my soul. The ice-cold fingers crept silently around the heart that once beat so rapidly, so peacefully, and all realizations began to set in. At long last, after so long of pushing it away, I confronted what I had done.

Kaworu.

The name still sits quietly on my mind. His soothing voice always tells me to disregard what has happened, that this is what he wanted, that he loved me even in his death, even though I was the one-

No! I can’t even bear to think of those horrid words!

Who were we? Who were we to defy God and what he desired? What right did we have to fight against our creator? Who were we to design the Eva’s and kill what God sent to us? Who were we to choose when we should evolve to the next plane of existence? Who were we to determine when our time is up?

I wonder if He has deserted us, forsaken His ungrateful creation.

Kaworu. My only friend.

I look down to my hands and they disappear, only to be replaced with the metallic hands of my Eva, those damned killing machines. They are stained, they are always stained, crimson with blood, his blood. Rivers falling, dark and maroon, like tears. I see his head falling, flipping, with his beautiful hair swaying. His eyes, soft, caring, are full of understanding, compassion, gratitude. It all happens so slowly, so damn slow and so damn often.

His body is still in my hands, crumpled like some useless paper.

Misato consoled me afterward. I can still recall her words that night. “A survivor only needs the will to survive. He wished to die. He abandoned the will to live, and depended on false hope. You were not wrong.”

The speech seems so pointless and useless now, something said to a child to make the young one forget the evils that lurk in the black night.

However, once the elder leaves, only the darkness remains, and eventually, it creeps in to grab the child, wrapping unfeeling fingers around one’s conscious mind. I am living proof of that.

Kaworu. Your death is my fault. I killed my only friend.

I do not care anymore if it was you or I. I would rather it hand been me. You were Holy; you were blessed; you were graced by God. I am nothing. I am mortal, selfish, flawed, damnable. You loved me without reservation. You were my only friend.

Those that I call “my friends” were my own security blankets. My father ruined all the trust I could ever possess towards another human being. Asuka was too closed off, always so preoccupied with the attempts of killing her own personal demons of the past to help me with my own. Misato was the closest thing I ever had to a companion, but she was sealed off as well. Her father’s and Kaji’s death damaged her, leaving her as cold and depressed as Asuka and I.

Kaji, on the other hand, I revered. I looked to him as a mentor, a superior. I carried too much respect for him to attempt to be on his level, so I closed myself off in fear of being hurt or left behind.

Touji and Aida were the only classmates I had that I could look to at times that didn’t have anything to do with Nerv. That soon changed though after Touji was discovered to be the fourth child (and look what I did to him.) Aida seemed too busy with his own personal war games to think twice of what I had happening to me, unless of course it had something to do with Eva. He never realized how personal it all got inside it. Your very soul seems to be searched through, examined, processed.

Rei. I never lost Rei. She is everywhere, everything. She is the air I breathe, the ground I walk on, the friends I meet, the very existence of all that is. She is All. She is Life and She is Death. She was the one I could never get close to, until the end. When she looked inside of me, she did so tenderly, not the cold, clinical way the Eva’s did. She is my mother, my mother of all that surrounds me.

Kaworu. I loved him. For once, I can say I loved something, and mean it to the depth of my core, of my very being.

I killed what I loved. I killed perfection. My hands, my own flesh is red with his pure blood, and it burns. I hear his soothing voice again, telling me that he is where he should be, that this was meant to be, but I cannot believe it, as hard as I try. Tears begin to flow, salty and stinging, bitter. I cannot breathe for my own essence seems to be choked out of me. My heart feels as though it will soon burst.

I killed perfection. I am a curse, harming those that care for me. Touji. Misato. Kaji. Mother. Kaworu.

Kaworu.

This world was my own creation, just as it is for everyone. My own creation could only be perfected for so long, before the taint of my own corruption, my own curse of humanity, began to set in.

Who am I?

I am the curse of humanity.

I look up silently, my eyes looking for some reason to exist, to continue on plodding in and out every day. This is no unfamiliar ceiling. It is the one that I had been seeing for years now, residing only were Rei once lived, blue-gray ceiling tiles spanning the entire length. This was all I deserved.

So, why had I not just destroyed my world and live within a blank existence? To easy of an escape, I suppose. However, even in a blackened abyss, I feel I would still have my emotions, overbearing things that they are, to contend with. There is only one escape from those feelings, from those voices.

I had contemplated on such a drastic action for years now, until my very soul got weary with the guilt and pressure that occurred in my thought day in and day out. All I could think of was him and the action I had committed. My world and life was meaningless and damaged.

Fear kept me existing for this long. Fear of what would be when my world dissipated, of what would occur when I returned to Lilth, to Rei. Would it be blackness, a void of immense proportions that would devour all conscious thought within its awesome maw? Would it be bright lights and the souls of all those lost in wars (and perhaps, maybe Kaworu)? Would it be the Hell of legends, fire, brimstone, demons?

The barrel tastes bitter as I wrap my lips around it. Oil and dust mix harshly on my tongue. My heart races, my tears coming faster and streaming down my cheeks, like his blood ran through my Eva’s fingers. It is awkward holding this weapon of destruction at this angle, but I manage. My finger rests lightly on the trigger.

Kaworu. A name that was soft and kind, matching the perfection of his soul.

My hand begins to shake. Taking one last breath, inhaling the pungent fumes from the gun, my finger tightens. With one last whisper of his name, I fire it.

The sound is deafening, but I feel no pain. The force of the blow leaves me lying on my back, staring upwards, feeling the blood trickle down the back of my neck like little insects. My world begins to grow fuzzy, fading in and out, becoming black around the edges, and like an ink stain, covering all the rest in its path slowly.

Spectral fingers reach out to me, filling me with the warmth and tranquility that had eluded me for so long. I feel weightless, serene, calm. I look up into red eyes that seem familiar and see a face that rarely smiles.

She smiles now.

I smile in return, knowing at long last, this is were I am meant to be.