Shinji lays on his back, music plugged into his ears.

Day-in and day-out, everything was on loop. He was forced to pilot his Evangelion, and for what? To save humanity and Tokyo-03, sure, but what did he want to prove?

Shinji craved his father's love, his attention. Yet he hated his father all the same.

The light bled into his room from his semi-closed window, streaking light across the room in slender pathways.

Then. He heard the door to Misato's apartment close. Weird.. everyone was supposed to be asleep.

You. One of the most talented and skilled EVA-pilots, known to easily take down Angels without even that much of a grimace. Yet..

You looked awful. Bandaged, head to toe. It was clear the injuries were recent, too.

When Shinji sat up, watching you limp into your room, he nearly threw up:

The interior of your bedroom was awful.

the paint of the walls was quite literally peeling. The tiles of the floor were cracked and caked with dried, splattered blood. wherever was carpet, it was torn up and aging.

the room had no windows and no light nor decor; except for the overhead ceiling light, which flickers and sparks.

the only furniture inside the bedroom was a child's mattress, covered in dried blood splotches. It's clear the mattress is decaying and rotting with age.

Shinji needed to speak to you. Needed to make sure you were okay.

But how?