station72 | [closed] Play Nice

Entry tags:

[closed] Play Nice

CHARACTERS: Asuka, Lakshmi

WHERE: The camp, en route to the next stop.
SUMMARY: Asuka hears about Lakshmi doting on Shinji through the rumor-mill. She's not thrilled.
WARNINGS: Brattiness.

The last few days have felt dream-like. Almost a blur. After the funeral, she's been going through the motions, trying to pick up the pieces and pull herself together for the sake of the mission. She's had help and for once (for once), it's help that matters. Help that she can almost accept, even if there's that little voice that keeps whispering to her that she should stop, that she should shove them all away, that she's weak and useless and that they'll all realize this eventually, so it's better to leave them behind now. It's an inching, halting progress, trying to drag herself out of the hole she was in in the first place. And then the other hole that's been blasted in her by the death of her broodmate and the unconsciousness of the other.

But she's managed. Even if she's felt like she's been on autopilot and particularly snappish to anyone who she feels has trespassed on her personal space without being asked. Not that she cares about the latter part. If people don't like her attitude, to Hell with them. Well, that's her external attitude. As always, the inner voice has different thoughts, whic she tries to fight down. She's... not quite as surly as she could be, but she's still not in the best of moods. Not that she's ever been since she arrived - still there have been times when she's shone brighter and now isn't one of them. Especially since she's been hearing about someone she considers... well.

Not hers, exactly, but someone she wants desperately to trust, even if half of her wants to run screaming in the other direction.

It's evening and she's feeling a bit tired and maybe a bit crankier than usual. As she expects, she finds Lakshmi in her room on board the strange flying ship they're all piling into. She's sewing and Asuka - Asuka has considered taking it up for lack of anything better to do that isn't training with Shepard or being bored. But she's not here to ask about that. Instead, she has to ask about something else. A certain visit that may or may not have happened and that she wants to find out about. She tugs her head covering off once the door is safely closed behind her and she settles her hands on her hips, arms akimbo, so she can watch Lakshmi for a moment before she flops down onto the bed dramatically, as only a teenager truly can.

She could launch right into this, but there's a certain reluctance to just start screaming at her. Instead she pillows her chin on her hands and watches Lakshmi works for a few moments, expression thoughtful, with just a hint of a downward tug that slowly begins to deepen into a frown.

"I heard you brought some food over to Ikari the other day."

It isn't quite an accusation. But it's close. She hasn't really made a secret of her distaste for Shinji (and, at the same time, her attempts to try to get him to stop acting like this was the same as "home" hint at some rather more confused feelings). So maybe this conversation shouldn't be too much of a surprise.

"What's up with that?"

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Lakshmi sits with her sewing in her lap, as always. The piece of fabric in her hands taking a greater form day by day, piece by piece. The deep blue material turning rich with gold threading. It blooms into patterns of flowers - the open furled lotus. The stars that fall over them in a space out pattern from tightly bunch to loose flickered. Her eyes stay on it, as Asuka paces about then throws herself down across from her.

Pointedly in fact, she can feel the agitation in it. So she keeps herself busy, wetting the end of her thread between her lips, before threading her needle. The long loop of the gold that she twists about her fingers, before she slides her free hand under the material to brace it.

"He is my brood, should I have done otherwise?"

"Do you actually know anything about him?"

Asuka knows why. It's something she might have done herself in another time and place, before she'd realized how much she thoroughly detested Shinji Ikari. Or does she? She's not sure anymore. She's forgiven him, in a way, but she also hates him. It's complicated. She rolls her shoulders in a shrug that's far too casual to be anything other than an affected gestured.

"He's from the same place as I am."

She wonders if Lakshmi knows that.

Another stitch pulled through. Her eyes look up briefly as she hooks the thread against her finger. Pulling it up and over and lose again before she continues.

"I was made aware of that, yes."

"What do you think about him?"

There's something dangerous in those words. A hint of an edge and the glint of something sharp and betrayed in her eye. She doesn't know how she feels about Ikari. It's complicated and messy and she both hates him and pities him and she doesn't know which is worse or if it will even matter in the end. She rolls onto her side to look at Lakshmi.

"You think he could save the world or something?

To that she looks up - more than annoyed or frustrated, rather deeply, truly, amused. For that, at last, she sets aside her sewing and addresses it all as frankly as she could. What on earth was going on between them - Kaji, Misato, Shinji and Asuka. A mess of a mix, it looked like.

"He is a boy. Perhaps a little more grown than I first gave him credit for, but a boy nonetheless - and single boys, by themselves, do not 'save the world'. Even if the world would like to tell them that."

It's grit out - something of her own frustration she worked through. "I think I hurt him, in my way, even when I meant not too. I do not like doing that, so I went to make amends of it. To which he was not pleased about. He was rather upset with my friendship with Master Kaji, case in point."

Asuka makes a noise. It's a bit strangled and somewhere between a 'harumph' and a whine. She's not sure she likes that answer, especially from someone she's mentally marked as 'hers'. Why is she trying to make things up to Shinji of all people? Which ignores the fact that Asuka tried that herself a little while ago. But Asuka has a blind-spot about herself in many regards.

"Kaji? Why does he care about you being friends with Kaji?"

Wait.

"You're friends with Kaji? When did that happen?"

Asuka hasn't been tracking the drama revolving around Misato or Kaji. She's just been peripherally aware of their existence and keeping a distant eye on them. Mostly because Kaji and Misato are tangled up in her head and she wants very little to do with Misato these days. It's complicated.

"...Shinji's a moron. And he was supposed to save the world or whatever, but he didn't. Couldn't."

"I would wager you would have a better understanding about what lies between Kaji and Shinji than I would, given I seem to do nothing but step between you all in a way you all dislike."

It's mildly put, reaching for another thread after she finishes her row. The new thread is red, brilliant as a setting sun. She inspects it briefly to the light before she looks again to her work.

"People do not 'save the world' Asuka, that is a fallacy and a cruel one to put on those still learning, whether that be you or him or anyone. You may change it. But save it? What do you suppose that even means?" That said and done, she carries on. "We learned of each other through our work on the mission, I find his dedicated useful and... admirable."

Asuka doesn't much understand Kaji and Shinji, honestly. She doesn't know what they talk about or even why they get along or if they do. Thinking about it just leads to more jealousy and the more painful thought that, once again, she's been rejected in favor of another. It stings. Her expression twitches and she rolls over onto her back, staring at the ceiling with discontented frown, limbs sprawled out as she tries to sort through her thought.

"We were supposed to save the world. And we didn't," she replies, "And now it's gone."

And good riddance. Which is a particularly bitter thought for a fourteen-year old to have, but she's not going back and doesn't want to go back. There's a weight of history to those words. A story of a life that flickers through her memory in disjointed bits and pieces. Still images and scents and emotions that say something, but aren't woven into a whole.

"He isn't useful," she says after another moment, voice flat, "And you shouldn't rely on him. He'll just let you down. All he cares about is himself."

And he's going to take you away from me is the unspoken thought.

- And with that, rather than beat about this anymore - she has neither the years nor the time to have that kind of patience. She has never particularly good at games. Even when doing it might have made all the difference. Better leave that to people who had the skill, she knew her own.

So she sets aside her sewing, finishing off the stitch and putting it aside, smoothing her skirts flat to sit upright.

"Asuka." Enough, the tone says. "When you asked me a question, I answered it, as plainly as I could. I expect the same in return. I am not anyone from your home, nor you from mine. So let us set us some simple rules: I will have honesty and I will directness in all dealings. I will not have questions dug at me, in any haphazard way or we will start playing a very different game, and I promise this much: you won't like."

She lets that settle. She does not raise her voice, she doesn't not take a sharp tone to her words. But she levels them as sure as an order.

"Now why don't you tell me what is really bothering you about my speaking with Ikari. Or are we going to keep dodging that?"

Well, she definitely has Lakshmi's attention now. For a brief moment she's reminded of Kaji and there's a tiny bit of guilt for poking at Lakshmi. Then again, it's not her fault that Lakshmi hasn't learned about Ikari yet, right? She shoots her a sidelong look and then pushes herself upright, settling cross-legged, chin in her hands, expression set in a pout.

"Fine."

Her gaze slides away and she isn't quite sure what to say next, but she has to say something. The truth is buried deep - Ikari is going to take you away and I'll be alone again - but she might get close to the mark anyway.

"He's a worthless jerk, that's why. He's a coward and a pervert and he isn't worth your time!"

Says the girl who tried (tried) to offer him a lifeline a mere day or three ago. She keeps going back and she doesn't know why she bothers.

What had her father done when she raised this kind of temper in herself? Sure enough, she had it, always did. But to it, her father was a patient, honour bound man. Devoted as a Brahmin and loving as a father, and taught her more important lessons than she understood at the time.

And if Asuka was ever going to outlive her, she must learn them too.

"Whether he does or doesn't, it has nothing to do with my actions. I am not fuelled simply by what I wish, child. I never will be."

The sewing it put aside, and she lifts a hand, gesturing to Asuka. "Come here."

Edited 2017-12-19 15:20 (UTC)

Asuka's expression twists and she reluctantly slides to her feet and crosses the space between them with hesitant steps. There's a lot she wants to yell at Lakshmi, to make her understand why she should leave Ikari well enough alone. Why he doesn't deserve a single moment of her attention. But for now she's silent and surly, watching and waiting, arms crossed defensively against her chest.

"What?"

She doesn't know what Lakshmi wants now.

"I want you to hold the material here and here - " she indicates to two sides where she means. braced either side around a section of embroidery she had been working on. "And hold it fast. So that the material is taught."

A request more so than an order, and after giving it, she turns to reach for a cup of water, bringing it up to drink slowly as she takes the time to form the words she wants.

"I will give my time to those who want my time. He does not want it, particularly. I hurt him. I did not mean to do it so severely. That is unacceptable to me, so I went to make reparations. Do you understand that difference?"

Asuka huffs quietly, but does as she's asked, hands finding the embroidery fabric and then pulling it taut, waiting for Lakshmi to finish with her water. She's still holding it when she finally speaks up again and she bites back her instinct to object (loudly) until Lakshmi has finished.

"...I understand," she says and it's quiet, almost surly, "But he still doesn't deserve it."

She forgave Shinji Ikari. She still doesn't like him.

At least her fears of having someone else stolen away from her seem to have settled, if only a little.

The next stitch is different, and plain why she needed Asuka's help. She punctures the material to hook underneath and pull up and through. Over and over again to form an almost feathered looping line. It's quick and fast, at least.

"No, I suppose he doesn't."

It's quiet, a pause when she turns the angle of her hand to keep the path for the stitches smooth. Little by little it starts to take shape, of peacock feathers branching out in a fanned shape. "But we are as good as we choose to be, as we choose to act."

A part of Asuka wants to tell Lakshmi exactly why Shinji doesn't deserve any of it. Not an apology, not understanding; nothing but a cold shoulder until he finally understands what's wrong with him and his cowardly, spineless self. She tries to focus on the stitches that Lakshmi pulls through the cloth. It's... something to keep her mind occupied, anyway.

"And he always chooses to act like a coward. So what?"

She's still getting a dig in while she can.

"I do not."

Simple, simple as that and perhaps it isn't, but it does not matter how they are connected, it will not dictate what she will do. Or how she will behave.

"Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise about what he means to me, what you mean to me? Have I not shown my care for you? I simply chose not to be petty."

Asuka's shoulders hunch. She feels... guilty. Sort of. She's doubting Lakshmi when, logically, Lakshmi hasn't given her a single reason to doubt her. But beyond logic there is emotion and years of hurt and one does not overcome all of that through simple logic. Her fingers tighten against the cloth, pulling it too tight.

"Something always happens. Something always takes it away."

"It" isn't defined. She's not diving into that. Yet.

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[closed] Play Nice

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