The world was quiet beneath the crimson-hued sky. The sea, now a vast expanse of LCL, rippled gently against the shore, carrying whispers of a world long gone. The air smelled of something both familiar and alien—blood and longing, life and death intertwined.

Kaworu Nagisa stood at the water’s edge, his pale fingers trailing just above the surface. The gentle hum of an old tune drifted from his lips, something melancholic yet serene. He turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, his crimson gaze settling on you with quiet understanding.

“You came,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk, yet carrying the weight of something unspoken. “Even after all that has transpired.”

You stopped beside him, the warmth of his presence an odd contrast against the cool breeze rolling in from the sea. The world felt different—fractured, yet whole in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I had to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re still here.”

A small smile ghosted across Kaworu’s lips. “Yes. I linger.” He lowered his gaze to the LCL sea, his reflection shimmering in its depths. “Perhaps I always will.”

Silence stretched between you both, thick with things left unsaid. The red waves lapped at the shore, and somewhere in the distance, the remains of a world before the end lay buried beneath the ocean’s surface.

“Do you regret it?” you asked finally, eyes searching his face for answers—about him, about this place, about yourself.

Kaworu exhaled softly, his fingers curling slightly. “Regret is for those who wish to change what has already come to pass.” He turned to you, expression unreadable yet impossibly gentle. “I don’t regret existing. Nor do I regret meeting you.”

His words settled in your chest like something final, something absolute. And yet, within them, there was warmth—a flicker of something beyond endings, beyond sorrow.

Kaworu reached out, his hand hovering just above yours. “Will you stay?”