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Droplets glistened off the side of porcelain plates as pale, but young, sturdy hands scrubbed the grime off the cutlery inhabiting the kitchen sink. Shinji’s hands were already soaked, with pruney digits gripping onto each passing item — a cup, a knife, a plate it all seemed to pass distantly within his mind.
A hand went and came, passing around the kitchens contents around as it formed a clack emanating across the room falling onto the drying-rack — the only indicator of his presence within the kitchen. One thing Shinji wouldn't admit about this simple ritual though is how calming it proved to be, maybe it was... unusual to say the least and honestly a little unfulfilling that this was the closest to serenity he had achieved in a while, but it wasn't like he could force himself to change how he felt about things.
It was easy enough, he knew exactly what was required, and faced no judgement or need of approval for what he needed to do.
Just scrub the dishes.
All by himself.
That’s all he had to do.
Easy enough.
Can’t be that hard, right?
Though maybe not, as being distracted within his thoughts came back to haunt him once again and without thinking, dropped a glass cup a little too high for comfort. Leaving a loud clack, it bounced around as it hit the bench almost refusing to break so easily to which Shinji was thankful for — however, by now it had slowly begun to roll away from the cluttered bench.
Drifting away like a newly cut log on the forest floor, it tumbled away... slowly as it dared to reach the very end now still on a razors edge — but Shinji didn’t take that into account as he began to panic, with his body moving before his mind did. His arm snapped into action, and with a determined palm opening he attempted to quickly snatch the unruly cup, though much to his horror his fingertips still wet in a solution of soapy detergent slipped against the hard edges of the cup giving a gentle push.
And that gentle push was enough to send a house of cards tumbling down.
He watched as the cup almost seemed to fly away, much like Icarus did soaring the skies in spite of the sun as it glided in a short-lived memory before ever so gracefully smashing into the kitchen floor — dispersing into a thousand pieces. Shinji sighed to himself watching as his peace was disturbed once again, incapable of even getting a single thing done right; though it didn't surprise him one bit.
Crouching over, his soft and boney fingers picked up some of the larger shards of glass from the floor. The smaller and finer dust would be collected too with the dustpan under the sink but that was part of a larger effort which would come later — but until then placed them onto the side of his palm. And so, Shinji carried on, dumping the shards in some box from a random ready-to-eat curry meal Misato had eaten the other day as he finished cleaning the remaining dishes, ignoring how the water darkened to a beautiful Rosey-pink.
He also tried to ignore the thuds coming down the hall.
“What the hell did you do?” A familiar redhead grumpily growled.
“What do you mean?” He replied.
Rolling her cerulean eyes, she merely repeated what he had just said yet in a mocking tone as if she had just spoken to the village idiot. “I was busy actually trying to do something productive and you...” Asuka followed, prodding him with an accusing finger “...Interrupted me!”
Shinji could only sigh, wishing he were either a snail in its shell or a thousand kilometres deep within the depths of the mantle of the earth so he could crumble up into a tiny ball far away from everyone and everything. But alas, he was only a boy – and a particularly fleshy and mundane one at that so he went with his tried-and-true method of keeping the peace.
“Sorry.”
Though for some reason unbeknownst to him, it seemed to have the opposite effect as he watched Asuka’s eyebrows furrow as hard as they could — and if they had gone any harder her hairs probably would have fallen right off of her face. At the thought, a set of images flashed before his mind of a smooth, balding and hairless Asuka in various situations; laughing, crying, yelling it was almost ridiculous as he found himself chuckling softly to himself.
“What are you laughing at?” She growled.
Oh shit.
Shinji began to panic being brought back to the moment, and as every hair raised and droplet of sweat ran down his spine he didn’t realise he was chuckling right in-front of her face. In truth, he didn't mean to and hopefully at least if he just explained the truth Asuka would understand, I mean it wasn’t like he had tried to demean her.
“Y-You...” Shinji trembled, “I didn’t mean to though, it was just... you looked funn-”
The boy only had mere seconds watching Asuka’s haughty face scrunch up into a valley of wrinkles, she looked... hurt, dejected even? For what reason could she possibly care about what he said about her...? Though it was short-lived as it was quickly replaced with a rush of anger, and as Shinji tried to explain himself he only felt the heat of a thousand suns linger on the side of his cheek as the sensation of blood pumping through his head clouded his mind. He felt dizzy, almost tripping onto the tile floor threatening to smash his skull to which he luckily forced out his hand in time, grabbing the bench beside him he kept his body from unceremoniously mopping the floor.
He began to nervously shake against his own will as he felt his adrenaline surge within him, his lungs strained, heaving with heavy rasps almost certain he would choke on the mucus lining his throat as he went into shock hyperventilating. His terrified eyes dared to trek upwards as he stared at what he could only deduce as Asuka’s hands clenching into a tight fist, and fearing for the worst his instincts had struck first.
He cowered into himself and without a word, raised his hands to keep her an arms-length away as he clenched his eyes shut failing to see her eyes widen as the world went to black.
But after a while when he finally opened them, everything was the same.
Except that Asuka was gone.
Raising his hand again with a few nervous shakes, Shinji brought a finger or two against his inflamed cheek relishing the cool sensation of contact against the sizzling, reddened skin. With great effort, his arms pulled his limp body upward from the floor regaining some of his lost dignity as he found even-footing now waddling over to his 'suite' or rather, the laundry closet.
Sliding the thinly-walled partitions, his soft eyes glanced over the mess scattered across the kitchen as a part of him were only left in dejection as he knew his job was far from over.
Useless as always.
Despite what he felt, just the idea of completing his chores felt incredibly arduous especially after the recent ordeal. The dark-circles surrounding his eyes also had certainly not help with his case, but he would thank the heavens and its angels that Misato wouldn’t be coming home until the following Sunday — for he still had time to make everything right again.
And so, with heavy steps he pressed forward into his little cubby-hole, carved away from the incessant chaos and anarchy of the rest of the world, and with hollow eyes he stared onto the divider of the opposite room housing the other resident, or rather more aptly ‘Occupant’. Sliding his own divider shut, Shinji watched as the remaining light of the world ceased to be; bathing the world in darkness.
Alone once again, Shinji threw himself onto his firm futon not even caring enough to change the set of clothes he had worn that day, being pre-occupied with more important things in mind. Most notably with slipping in his wired earbuds into his ears and shuffling the mix of songs burnt onto the cassette tape within his SDAT. Though, in a sense it never really mattered anyways considering he already knew for certain he wouldn’t find the sweet release of sleep anytime soon. However, it certainly made the gentle trickles of tears down his cheeks that much easier to forget.
And now, clenching his eyes, everything had already seemed better than it was.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Maybe everything will be alright.
Maybe.