most times, it's just a lot easier not to let the world know what's wrong.

[nonmeaningful]

[Shinji had no idea that jet lag could be so brutal. Flying alone, and for the first time at that, had been utterly terrifying until the fatigue set in. He tried to sleep all those many hours from Japan to Germany, but he couldn't sit still through the turbulence. He tried to zone out with music, but the droning hum of the engines intruded on everything. His ears are still popping painfully as he waits and wavers in the airport terminal, watching the other passengers file past him. The German phrase book they gave him doesn't help him to understand any of what's being said around here. Just what were they thinking, sending him to a far-off place like this? And so suddenly? He's more than a fish out of water... Germany's Berlin might as well be the surface of the moon for how he feels...

(It's his own fault.)

(He's the one who accepted a secondment to NERV-03.)

He slips a small notecard out of the phrase book. It has some instructions written on the front, just a time and a name, in legible handwriting. There's no questionable photo attached to it, for better or worse. Nothing to indicate what sort of person will be retrieving him. It's unpleasant to feel both wary and antsy; he just wants to get this over with and out of the way. Introductions have to be the very worst part of settling into a new place.

Ugh. Frowning to himself, he adjusts the strap on his backpack again.] Guten Tag, [he tries quietly.] Mein Name ist... Mein Name ist... [It doesn't help that his mouth feels like it's full of sand. He sighs and goes back to staring at the ever-shifting crowd. He doesn't know who he's looking for, or how his handler--K. NAGISA--is going to recognize him. At least the name suggests they'll be able to speak Japanese, preventing any gaffes for now.]

Comments

[analogon]

Ihr Name ist... [The voice is only an adolescent's, but it's plenty at ease and full of confidence, contradictory to Shinji's fears about an overwhelming new atmosphere. And that confident adolescent is right in front of Shinji, just feet away. He must have approached alongside one of the bustling throngs, because this is the first sound he's made to indicate his arrival. Not really surprising, since he has to speak up over the airport's din.] Ikari Shinji-kun. Right? [At least he's merciful; indeed, he's speaking Japanese.] Have you been waiting long? Oh, we should get your luggage. [He's wearing blue jeans, an orange top, and a cream-colored cardigan over that. His hands are tucked away into his pockets. And he's been smiling this whole time, but all of a sudden it slips into something sympathetic. Finally, and deliberately, he asks,] How was your trip?

[He looks glad to see Shinji. Really and honestly glad. Exactly how glad is his own secret: it's impossible for Shinji to know that Kaworu has been waiting nearly fifteen years for this day. The anticipation became even greater once Kaworu was told that he'd be meeting Shinji so early. He has a head start that could last for months. Granted, it's hard to know what to expect from this sort of deviation. It doesn't really matter, though. Anything could happen and it wouldn't be important compared to the time he's able to spend with Shinji. It could just be a night — that's happened before — but the old men haven't directed him to act yet, so he thinks he's got more time than that. So Kaworu's certain he can weather anything.

Never mind that. Shinji looks exquisitely weary. Kaworu wants to cradle his body and let him sleep. He gets so far as holding out his hand...]

I can help you with your bag.

[nonmeaningful]

[Shinji blinks. He doesn't know where Kaworu came from, only that Kaworu is here now, standing out against the senseless jumble of the terminal. Kaworu is pale and pristine where everything else is a muddy watercolor. It takes Shinji far too many seconds to realize Kaworu is speaking to him, trying to get his attention. Shinji didn't expect NERV-03 to send along a--another child--isn't he?--but maybe they do things differently in Germany. Shinji has never seen anyone so different yet so at ease with himself and his surroundings.

Belatedly, Shinji realizes he's done a lot of staring and no responding at all. He tells himself to say something, but the words won't come; he feels like he's out of control and floating outside of his body. Say something. Just say something already. But Kaworu keeps talking to him, asking him things, smiling at him like it's nothing. Like it's nothing. Actually smiling--not politely, or automatically, but because Kaworu wants to smile for him. No one should do that. No one should smile at Ikari Shinji like they're blessed to see him.

Shinji's brain kicks into gear again as soon as Kaworu offers a hand.] Oh-- [Inconveniencing this person? Absolutely not. Shinji draws back defensively, a half-step taken and a flush to his cheeks, his fingers tight on the strap.] Oh, no, it's-- [This adrenaline rush is insane when he's so exhausted from the flight. He might as well be gasping:] It's fine. It's really not too much. [He was advised to pack light. His awaiting luggage also shouldn't be a big deal.

But he feels his shoulders slacken before he knows it, now that he's staring into Kaworu's red eyes. That color...]

Sorry, you-- you're-- from the Third Branch? Nagisa-kun? Mein Name ist-- [That's a bit pointless now. God damn.] ... yeah, you've got it right.