Sometimes he plays his cello when he has nothing to do. He sums up all his talent and gives his best. The pieces he plays are often heart breaking. They're so sad but he likes playing them anyway. He prefers playing sad music to happy music. Of course, music is music- sad or happy.

He has to practice. He has a guitar lesson tomorrow. It was actually Misato who gave him the idea and ... something just happened. He survives Asuka's vicious taunting- he can handle it. Or so Misato assures him. He's fond of this particular song and he knows how to play it well. He's a good music student, he knows that. He's finished practicing. Most people practice Tai Chi to calm themselves; of course, Shinji isn't any ordinary person and therefore he plays music to calm himself. He wafts his fingers through the cello's strings. He is thankful that he doesn't have a Tai Chi lesson tomorrow.

Right now he's strumming along the guitar on his denim-clad lap softly blinking. The penguin Pen-Pen looks at him quietly; perhaps he is appreciating his half-nonsensical music. He's just hitting the strings in his semi-conscious state. He's losing himself softly, quietly. Usually he tries to give his best performance when playing the cello. Perhaps it's for Asuka's praise.

He's learning to play the guitar, mastering the cello, Misato and Kaji are getting married, and Asuka is going on more dates than usual. Things are changing.

He gulps a little; Misato had given him the duty of telling Asuka that she was going to get married. Somehow, she wasn't comfortable with telling Asuka about the news and Asuka was having her PMS. Why else was she so pissed off? More than usual of course...

He can only shut the world out for so long. He hears a violent fling outside. Ah ... so much for a quiet evening. Did she have a date today? Of course, it must have been a really horrible one.

She usually rants to him about how all of the boys were unworthy and that they were doing something totally unsophisticated in her presence. He listens to her, hoping that she would calm down. However, today, she isn't angry because of her date.

She slams the half-closed door behind her and stomps towards him. He swallows, taking a glimpse at the worried warm-water penguin better known as Pen-Pen. He inserts his verbal signature 'Wark'. She glares at the defenseless being telling it to fuck off. He's scared; she must be in a foul mood. She shakes him by his collar violently, furiously asking why he didn't tell her. He manages to squeak 'what'. She keeps asking why he didn't tell her about Kaji and Misato's wedding. Why the hell didn't he do it? Did he have to be a pussy like the demented two? Oh wait, he had always been one. He trembles but he manages to say that Misato told him to pick a good time to inform her. She informs him crudely that he's such a fucking procrastinator and so good for nothing. He's scum and lacking in balls. He's so useless. He's intimidated, but little by little she's adding straws to the camel's back and the camel sure isn't liking it.

He might be lacking balls but he's definitely not lacking hormones. Frustrated he yells at her asking her what he did wrong. She pushes him to the bed. He sits up and before she can push him down again. He grips her wrists telling her not to point fingers just because she feels like it. She snarks that not everybody meditates to get things off their minds. He blushes a little. His grip loosens. She snorts kicking a fallen pillow on the floor. Her heels kick off the obnoxious high-heeled shoes she had been wearing and she flings her jacket off of her. She plops down on the mattress, slightly elevating him in the process. Everything's just fucking wrong.

Her dates are dimwits who want to get a piece of ass, her status at school is a bit tight at the moment, her synch ratios are decreasing because it's her time of the month and Ayanami has to fucking point it out. But what really ticks her off is that she wasn't made aware of Misato and Kaji's marital status. Everything is wrong. Nothing is right. It's all so fucked up.

His questions are answered.

His knees are comfortably numb; his lap is accustomed to having the guitar on it for long hours. She crosses her arms and puts her head on them. Her hair is a little ruffled. It slides off her creamy white arms like a fiery waterfall. She is wearing a sleeveless, lacy, white top. He can't help but stare at her a little. The denim skirt covers her legs. Too bad. She's sexy, That's why the boys chase her. He takes a little glimpse at her, she's breathing and she's frustrated. She's trying to calm down. She glares at him, telling him to stop looking at her like a pervert. He quietly apologizes for his unacceptable conduct. That sure makes everything all right for her, she remarks sarcastically. All's right in the world when he says sorry.

He knows how she feels. They both go through periods of frustration and depression. Sometimes when he gets too angry he damages his room. He did that last week. She tries to be careful around him though she'd rather die than admit it. He's learning to make her cautious but she told him clearly that had he ever gathered the courage to pull a fancy move on her, she'd bury him alive. He heeds to her warnings.

He quietly jokes that maybe they could break things together when they're upset. She snorts because she knows he's hinting about his foul mood last week. She runs a hand through her hair, sitting up.

Sometimes, he tries to think up of ways to cheer people up. Usually it's through music. The girls in his class swoon about it.

Right now he's trying to cheer her up. Bad moods scare him. It's like a volcano that might erupt soon but it's still waiting to pick the time for the perfect ambush. Even after shouting the house down, she still looks pretty pissed off.

He asks her in his quiet voice if she would like to hear some music. She snorts out a 'whatever'.

He never really talks about what he's playing or why. His fingers strum along the instrument's strings. The music is quiet and soothing. It makes you kind of nostalgic. Soon enough his voice accompanies the tune.

She sighs quietly, hugging her knees and directing her focus on his face. His voice is soft and a little raspy. But it sounds okay. She appreciates the lyrics of the song.

She appreciates his talent- she appreciates his artistic and creative side. He could really impress a girl. Of course, he impresses Rei. Even though, she was determined to enjoy the song, her mouth couldn't help but twist a little downwards.

The boy wasn't particularly fond of crowds. Praises and words of appreciation and acknowledgements made him feel awkward. Dumbass, she called him sometimes.

Before he can sing the next line of the song she places her finger on his lips.

They just look at each other for a while.

She asks him if he ever sang it to Ayanami or if he ever plans on singing it to Ayanami. Her question doesn't have any relevance but he has to answer her. He denies it; he doesn't think about things like that. She calls him a liar. Before she can loose her temper again, he puts his hand on hers asking her to stay. She throws her head on the mattress. He offers her a pillow. She puts it under her head sighing. He dislodges the guitar from his lap and joins her on the bed.

She asks him what he sees in Ayanami that he doesn't see in her. He denies once again that he has any romantic feelings for Ayanami. She sniggers, telling him not to lie but he insists that he isn't lying. She looks at him somewhat possessively. She warns him that if he ever catches him doing anything funky with Ayanami, he'll be sorry.

Before he can react her lips crush his, they invade his mouth. He's slightly shocked. He closes his eyes at sensations her tongue causes him. He moans; damn she can kiss. Her hands cup his face and she deepens the kiss. She slowly gets on top of him, her fingers run through his brown hair slowly and then suddenly she grabs a fistful of his hair. He can't help but react. He slowly locks his arms around her waist in a delicate bond. She draws her mouth away for lack of air. She looks down at his soft, intent brown eyes. She dips her tongue at his back of his ear, slowly brushing her tongue against it like a painter.

She buries her face in his chest and he buries his in her shoulder. She laughs caustically, saying that she can't believe she's doing the thing she had always wanted to avoid the most- she's making him lick her wounds as he licks hers. He confesses that strange times make for strange bedfellows. He says in a light mocking tone that sometimes, just sometimes, angry redheads like Asuka need to shut up and do something useful with their mouths. Like kissing pathetic dimwits like Shinji, she asks. Like kissing pathetic dimwits like him, he agrees. They laugh. He watches the ceiling and the dim dark-blue shadows dance around on the ceiling. He feels her move away. In a pleading tone, he asks her not to leave once again. And she doesn't.

They know what they're doing is a little odd. Who lies down at evening anyhow? They're under the rubble. Things are changing, maybe for better or worse, but some things stay the same. It's been two years since they became pilots and neither Shinji nor Asuka's fathers try to keep in touch with them very often. The two of them still do not wish to be ignored, they're still desperately looking for attention and love. The people around them are still messed up like they are.

They're under the rubble and maybe the weights of the stones are getting lighter but it really doesn't matter. It may never seem so but sometimes they get each other when everything else is so hazy and no one cares. Sometimes they realize that they're alike in so many ways and they can give each other something no one else can. And sometimes, when no one will be looking, they'll play footsy under the rubble. Misery loves company.