Title: Scraps of Gold - Violin songs and hearts in the dark

Author: Kjesta

Chapter: 2/34

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the series Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Rating: T

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, AU.

Word Count: 4,529

"You're bleeding," the boy said.

Shinji stared. A soft trickle of blood ran down the other's cheek.

"You too," he remarked, barely noticing he had actually said it aloud. This had to be a nightmare, some bad dream, concocted by too many long nights of guilty thoughts... Everything about this was much too unreal. He couldn't almost shoot someone - a total stranger at that -, then have that someone tell him he was bleeding. He was supposed to panic, to shout and call the police or something. Not look at him like that and come closer and...

"There," the boy murmured, brushing a finger over Shinji's hair, a little above his temples. The touch was feather-light, he almost didn't feel it at all. A shiver ran down his spine when the hand was pulled back and the fingertips darkened slightly with blood.

Shinji said nothing. Every moment, he would wake and someone would yell at him because he was crying in his sleep again and kept the others from resting... Wouldn't be the first time.

The other teen touched his own face as if realising only now that he was wounded. He looked at his bloody fingers. Shinji, though his head was still spinning from everything, couldn't help but notice that the dark beads of liquid and his eyes were of exactly the same shade - he couldn't really see it in the silvery white sheen the sallow moonlight pouring into the room covered everything with, but - and he felt extremely stupid and awkward for thinking this - he could somehow just feel it.

"I think I should get some first aid stuff or something," the boy said softly, just as if he was talking to himself, and looked at Shinji like he expected an answer. When none came, he stepped past him and vanished in the dark. Shinji stayed motionless.

When the boy had passed him, he had caught a nose full of his scent. It was a nice scent. He smelled of freshly washed cotton and wood and old paper and... blood. The blood that stained his fingers and face. He shivered slightly in the chilly breeze that flowed inside through the still opened window. The air tasted bitter.

Far off, he could make out a small dark spot in the otherwise flawless white wall. That must be where the stray bullet had hit. Straight out of the window, without damaging anything else. Shinji found himself strangely comforted by this. He wondered why.

Standing in silence, the sudden thought of what the others were doing right now popped up inside him. Were they waiting for him? He was almost sure. He could vividly picture Asuka cursing about his incapability to do anything right, Touji sitting around moping, not willing to admit that he was seriously worried, and Kensuke spacing out, off in some daydream about combat and honour. Where would they be waiting? Right behind the wall, where he had left them? Or maybe across the street, from where you could look at the house's front.

Shinji didn't dare to think about if they might see him getting arrested from wherever they were now. The thought was too overwhelming for him to let his mind linger on it.

Then, there was that boy. Shinji had come to the conclusion that he was not normal. No normal person would act like that. He tried not to think of the fact that he himself wouldn't usually be considered normal. Still, the boy was acting very curious. Why on earth would anyone point out to a picklock he had just caught in his own house that he was in serious need of some first aid? Really, it was ridiculous.

Shinji mentally crossed out his last thought. Calling the boy ridiculous felt like an act of blasphemy. It was altogether wrong. He had not done what he - justified enough - could have to get rid of the worthless housebreaker that had dared to betray his friends - and Shinji by now really felt like he had betrayed them, how long had they planned this and how much was he risking by thinking he could manage on his own? - and instead had even offered his help. In a really strange way, to say the least. But the street kid could not help but feel that he ought to be grateful somehow. The other one had given him the chance to get out of this.

Enigmatic, the brunette silently corrected himself. But not ridiculous.

As if called up by his thoughts, the silver-haired teenager returned, a patch already on his cheek. The trace of blood was gone from his pale skin and Shinji secretly wondered why he was a little disappointed because of this. Maybe it had been the feeling that he, ordinary as anything, had been able to affect such beauty.

The teen looked at him, seemingly pondering something. Then he made a vague step forward.

"Come," he said. "We have to get that taken care of..."

Shinji decided to play along. It didn't seem like the boy was going to call the police yet - what if he had already done so while pretending to get bandages or something? - and he didn't want to make him by trying to run off or something.

Besides, and he was grateful the room was quite dark so the boy couldn't see the light blush tinting his cheeks, he found he started to be intrigued by the other's presence. It seemed like he was radiating calmness and peace like an extraordinary perfume, making Shinji want to breathe it all in and just relish the fact it was there and he was chosen to make contact with it.

But maybe he had just gone mad after all and just not noticed yet. The likeliness seemed to increase dramatically with every passing second.

The boy turned away from Shinji, one hand on the doorframe, gazing back at him. The look clearly told him to follow and Shinji himself was surprised by how gladly he complied. Leaving the corridor behind, they passed the great hall with the huge staircase leading up deeper into the house and entered the living room. The silver-haired boy didn't switch the lights on.

The brunette only now really took the room in. When he had first entered, he had been much too busy worrying about everything and nothing - but, he silently wondered, wasn't there just as much reason to worry right now? Why didn't he? - to really pay attention. But now, he felt slightly overwhelmed by the wealth and perfection all around.

The room had two straight walls mitring in a right angle, the third wall was curved and consisted almost entirely of glass panels. One could not look inside from outside the estate, the huge white wall - it seemed infinitely far away to Shinji now - was right across the lawn and shielded the living room from stares. The fireplace was embedded in the wall to his left, cool white stone only slightly darkened where - so he pictured - bright, merry flames must dance in hot bliss sometimes. In the room's centre, there was a glass coffee table, surrounded by two white couches, a larger and a smaller one, and an armchair. It reflected the pale light from outside and, so Shinji thought, the diffuse white spot in one corner of it had to be the moon's mirror image.

It was almost disturbing to see how much the pale boy fitted into the room and at the same time didn't. His looks matched the ambience perfectly, red eyes a strong contrast to all the white around, but the vibes he emanated were that of an unwilling decoration, an involuntary toy dropped into a place it didn't want to be. A bird, trapped in a gilded cage.

Shinji could have died from shame when the boy saw his bag on the floor and the sculpture poking out of it, the evidence of his crime, and looked a little surprised.

It was weird. Of course he had to know by now that Shinji was a burglar. How could he not, sneaking around his house, wearing black clothes and having a gun with him? Funny that he felt like having been caught in the act now when the boy saw the traces of his intents. Like a child that was caught with the empty cookie bowl in its hands, mouth covered in chocolate and crumpets.

Shinji hated himself for the guilt he felt about having tried to steal something from the person who right now seemed strangely concerned about him.

"Sit down."

Shinji's head jerked up when the voice abruptly brought him back to reality. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the boy getting bandages and some clean-up stuff - he was now sitting on the couch, looking up expectantly. Shinji felt awkward, someone like that shouldn't be looking up to a shabby street kid. He quickly sat down.

The boy's voice was very boyish and mature at the same time. Smooth and not really deep, but having already lost somewhat its childlike nature.

Shinji watched silently when the other teen dipped a cloth into clear water, sparkling in the glass bowl next to him. He couldn't help but gasp softly when the cold fabric touched his skin - not to mention the gentle fingers accompanying it.

"I'm Kaworu. Nagisa Kaworu."

Shinji gave him an unsure look. A faint smile was lingering in the corners of the other's mouth.

"Well, you have to call me somehow, right?" Shinji nodded unconsciously. Surely the boy - no, Kaworu, he reminded himself - would ask for his name now. That'd make it easier for the police to find him.

There was a small, indefinable sound as Kaworu's fingernails briefly made contact with the bowl's smooth surface. No questions followed. The brunette accepted it thankfully, yet still somewhat unbelieving.

For some minutes, there was silence. Only the quiet water splashes and Shinji's poorly suppressed moans every now and then when the water made his wound sting with pain. The scene was almost abstract, calmness and curiosity and excitement and fear each fought for dominance over the situation, filling it with an odd tension. Shinji heard his own breathing disturbingly loud.

Kaworu finally put the clothe aside - the bowl's formerly clear content had turned dull and reddish brown by now. Shinji preferred not to look at it for too long.

The sound when the other boy ripped open a pack of gauze cracked the silence with its noise. He placed it on the wound with great care, holding it in place to wrap the bandage over it.

"Why are you doing this?" Shinji asked quietly, saying out loud what he'd been thinking throughout the whole procedure. Inwardly, he was surprised himself about how clear his voice sounded, not trembling in the least. It didn't match how he felt at all.

"Mh?" Kaworu gave him a questioning look out of the corner of his eyes.

"All of this." Shinji shrugged helplessly. A pale hand passed in front of his face as the other teen began wrapping the bandage around his head. It was almost eerie how milky white that skin seemed in the semidarkness.

"What else should I do?" he asked, an expression of calm concentration in his eyes that he had focused on what he was doing again.

"I don't know." Oh, how he did. "Throw me out or call the police or something."

The hands stopped. "Do you want me to throw you out?" Kaworu asked softly. Shinji found he did not need to think long about the answer. "No."

"Well, then." The hands picked up their work again. Shinji occasionally felt the fingers brush against his hair, or his ear. It tickled. It felt... almost nice. Kaworu reached the end of the bandage and pressed it lightly against Shinji's temple.

"Hold it," he murmured, shifting to get some plaster from a small box on the floor. Shinji watched soft shadows play across his hair and neck.

"It's Shinji."

Kaworu turned. "Mh?" "Ikari Shinji. My name."

He smiled. "Nice to meet you. Shinji." Then, he sat next to him again to finish his work.

"You sure you'll get by alone?" Kensuke asked sceptically and earned a sniffy look from Asuka.

"How old do you think I am?" she replied sharply. "Three? I'll manage much better without such idiots like you around."

Kensuke didn't reply. He wasn't in the mood now to get into an argument with her now - his thoughts were still occupied by Shinji. How could it have possibly happened that the rope had snapped? He had checked and double-checked it several times and every inch had seemed pretty okay to him. But maybe he had overlooked something, though... Maybe it was his fault Shinji was in there now, all on his own. He felt pretty miserable.

They were standing at the street crossing about a kilometre from the house. They had decided it was no use if they all kept sitting around in the cold all night, waiting for Shinji to get out. Kensuke and Touji had exchanged surprised glances when Asuka had immediately volunteered to stay. She had accompanied it with the explanation that she was going to kick his ass for managing to make the rope snap as soon as he showed his stupid head outside, but they both thought in silence that she probably just had a thing for him. Not that she showed it openly, but the way she always teased him and was angry at him if he didn't react in the desired way told them more than they wanted to know. It was like in one of those corny movies, really.

"Come back as soon as he's out, okay?" Kensuke finally said and was, as usual, rewarded with a "You think I'm stupid?" look by Asuka.

"Oh, sure," she hissed and rolled her eyes. "You think I'd want to keep that dumbass company longer than I have to? Also, manchmal frage ich mich echt, ob du noch alle Tassen im Schrank hast." Her last words were some muttered curses in German and Kensuke was pretty sure he didn't even want to know what exactly she said. It didn't sound like she was telling him how nice a guy he was.

Touji snorted. "Are you two done? It's getting cold."

Asuka turned away and crossed her arms. "'Course, I'm done with him." With that she stomped off and soon was gone in the dark. Touji and Kensuke looked after her.

"You know," Kensuke said, nudging Touji with his elbow, "I have a bad feeling about this. Seriously."

"So..." Kaworu stretched lazily. "Don't you want to tell me why you're here?" He looked at Shinji who had gone a little pale and uncomfortably stared down at his knees. The brunette once again noticed how worn his clothes were. The black fabric had turned grey already.

"Part of a break-in," he muttered. "Obviously."

Kaworu nodded thoughtfully. "Alone?"

Shinji shook his head. "The rope snapped." The second after he had said that, he could have slapped himself. Risking his own safety by telling his name was one thing. Revealing that there were others in it as well was infinitely more. It spoiled all his attempts to save them trouble by going in alone. He bit his lower lip.

"I won't ask for others," Kaworu interrupted his train of thought. "Promise. No danger to them."

Shinji stared at him. That boy made no sense to him. He didn't understand. And it scared him.

"Why?" he finally managed to bring out in a tone barely louder than a whisper. He didn't trust his voice to rise louder than this. There was a definite lump in his throat. "You have no reason not to call the police immediately."

Kaworu drew closer until his face was merely a hand from his own. Shinji wanted to pull away at first but quickly decided to stay in place. The ruby eyes in front of him definitely demanded attention and he wasn't about to refuse. He could have spent hours looking at them. Corny. He didn't give a damn for now.

Seconds passed as both boys stared at each other. Blood red meeting midnight blue. Brown hair a sharp contrast to almost white.

"You have lonely eyes," Kaworu murmured, making it sound like it was a reason more than good enough to let Shinji be here. He leant back and crossed his arms behind his head.

Shinji blinked. The sudden closeness had made his heart speed up somewhat and now it didn't seem like it was going to slow down again. There just too many questions about the strange boy swirling around in his head.

Kaworu gave him a side glance. "Why did you want to do this raid?" he asked. And caught Shinji, still staring at him in puzzlement, completely off-guard.

Shinji opened his mouth slightly, then shut it again, looking down at his hands and ended up occupying them with fumbling nervously with the hem of his shirt. He felt like a stupid child, acting like this. Something clicked inside him. A stupid child. Useless. Unwanted.

"We need the money," he said. "We barely have enough to survive and Yuichi needs new shoes. Touji and Asuka, too." His voice suddenly grew bitter. Why was he telling all of this? That boy, sitting there nonchalantly in his light pants and shirt, obviously used to all the luxury and money... Why did he tell him? Wasn't it obvious that they didn't have enough money, couldn't the boy tell by looking at his dirty shoes, his battered clothes? Did he even like to hear him say it out loud like it wasn't bad enough when only thought?

Shinji was surprised to find his hands and jaw clenched, his voice strained as he spoke.

"We have to steal to get by, there's not enough food for everyone and we can't afford to let a doctor check on the ill ones." He wondered secretly as he heard himself talking louder and louder, rage taking over, until he almost shouted. "We have to live somehow! Why not take it from those who already have more than enough?"

Dark eyes watched him intently and Shinji became painfully aware of how he was acting. He quickly sat down again; he hadn't even noticed he had stood up at all.

Kaworu stood up, going over to the window. He didn't look at Shinji who felt like he had said something terribly nasty. His voice was void of blame or anger when he spoke, though.

"What about your parents?"

Shinji looked aside. "I don't want to talk about it," he said. He was still breathing somewhat more heavily than usual. He felt already ashamed for his small tantrum. Because, really, in what position was he to get angry?

"Mh." Kaworu laid a hand onto the smooth glass. "Are you ashamed of them?"

An image of his mother flashed through his mind, followed closely by his father's face. "Maybe."

Kaworu nodded slightly. "I see."

Silence ensued. Shinji watched shadows trace the floor as clouds made their way through the night sky, obscuring the moon every now and then.

"The song," he suddenly said, the words bubbling up from nowhere. He silently wondered where he took the boldness from to initiate a conversation.

"...mh?" Kaworu turned around to look at him, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

Shinji felt a blush creep into his cheeks. "The song you played. What's it called?" He could already sense the well-known fear well up in the back of his mind. Losing control. Helplessness. All he could do was ask. And hope.

Kaworu smiled and sat down cross-legged where he stood. The moonlight made the edges of his hair glow like a silvery halo.

It was his warm smile that told Shinji more than the boy had probably intended to say - that the music meant everything to him, that it reached deep enough into his heart to coax this smile out of him. A smile that made Shinji feel like he had missed a step going down a stairway. It was boyish and void of the mature composure that Shinji had observed in all his actions by now.

He felt a little proud, an odd pride at that. About the fact that he asked Kaworu questions and got answers like he was equal with him. That he got more answers out of him than he had asked for aloud. Like he actually had some of the power about him that he felt radiate from Kaworu and that he couldn't withstand.

"Lilium," Kaworu replied, letting the syllables gently roll off his tounge. "By Kawabe Chieko."

"It's beautiful," Shinji said single-heartedly. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could have bet there was an excited sparkle in Kaworu's eyes as he straightened up a little.

"Isn't it?"

Shinji nodded. he nervously rubbed the joint of his left thumb. "Could - could you play it again? ... Please?"

For a moment, Kaworu looked seriously taken aback. Then, the corner of his mouth curved into another smile. "Sure." He got up and left the room, disappearing into the darkness through the door. The brunette noticed with fascination how little noise he made when he moved.

Shinji slid down the couch and sat on the floor, head still resting on the cushions. He let out a small sigh and stared at the ceiling. An unfamiliar ceiling. It was high up - a very large room, really. But it wasn't as huge as the abandoned factory that was his current home.

He suddenly became aware of how heavy his body felt. Warm and soft and heavy. Chest moving up and down gently with every breathe he took. He inhaled deeply. Kaworu's scent still lingered faintly in the air.

He didn't know what made him act like he did. Behaving like that was not normal. Not after attempting a raid and nearly shooting someone. Not with a boy. But, and he didn't know if he should consider this good or bad news, he wasn't exactly normal in general. He decided not to care.

A quiet thud made him cringe and jerk his head up. Kaworu had already returned, the violin's case held tightly in his arms and was just putting it down to open it. Shinji found himself getting to his knees, curiously watching as the three locks were opened by pale fingers. It clicked disturbingly loud every time a hook snapped open. With a soft, creaking noise the lid was lifted.

Kaworu took out the violin and adjusted the shoulder rest. His moves were fluid and showed he had done this so often he'd long by lost count. Then, he drew the bow.

Shinji retreated respectfully and sat to lean against the wall while Kaworu rose, the same content expression as before on his face. He raised the bow and began to play.

It was a short piece, barely half and a minute. Shinji kept his eyes shut and just let the music work its magic on him. High notes changed smoothly to darker ones to rise into trembling heights again, a constant up-and-down of peaceful beauty.

When the piece ended, there was a moment's silence before another one began and Shinji looked up. He knew that song. It was entirely different from the former one, much more forceful and less ethereal. He unconsciously mouthed the text.

I kept my mouth shut from the start

I guess I left you in the dark

You thought you knew me but you don't

You say you'll love me but you won't

When you find out who I am

He had often heard this song when - when he had still lived with his father. It had touched him in a place he hadn't even expected to exist within him. It reminded him of a past he didn't have, how he had lost a love he didn't remember anymore. Sometimes he wondered if it was a memory of a past life. Or a life that another Shinji Ikari lived somewhere out there. He didn't know.

He felt his body relax, slumping back against the wall. He was tired from running and hiding; not only physically, but even more so mentally. So tired... He barely noticed as his eyes slid shut.

Kaworu looked up from his playing - he could play the song blindly, he had done it so many times before - and nearly missed a note upon finding Shinji resting against the wall, eyes closed, mouth opened slightly, all the wariness and defense that had tinted his posture up to now gone. Kaworu immediately decided he liked it much better. Secretly he thought the boy looked like a puppet fallen out of some fairytale, lying there with his face adorned by light and shadow. Ragged and dirty maybe, but still longing for someone to play with. He looked very fragile.

All too soon, the song ended. After having another rather ferocious part, it blended into a last line that was soft and quiet, almost regretting. Everything grew still.

Shinji didn't move. Kaworu tilted his head. He couldn't be asleep...?

After carefully storing Manon back in her case, not before clandestinely placing a brief kiss on the scroll, he slowly approached the other boy who was still motionless. Only the gentle rising and falling of his chest told Kaworu he was still alive at all.

He knelt down. A sudden urge to touch the teen welled up inside him. Not touch him like that or something, but he felt the strong need to make sure this wasn't just a dream, a feverish succession of pictures that his mind had made up to tear from his grasp when he woke. He didn't want him to vanish, the lost child that had so suddenly stumbled into his life and was so entirely new and different from everything he had known up to now.

He smelled of earth and dirt and something very sweet underneath - of life, Kaworu thought -; it was enough to make Kaworu dizzy with its richness.

He settled next to the sleeping boy, arms folded behind his head. What an odd night this was. Whatever path he had expected his life to take, this most certainly wasn't it. Not that he would complain, mind you. He liked the turn the road had taken.

He smiled self-ironically. How he thought this night was going to change his entire life. Maybe he'd never see Shinji again after tonight. Maybe this was just a meaningless encounter, a short episode to end tomorrow.

He gave Shinji a side glance and wondered if he was dreaming. It still surprised him how he could just fall asleep here like that. He had been so defensive all the time.

Kaworu closed his eyes and pulled his knees close. Before he drifted off, he only wished the boy wouldn't be gone when he opened them again.

I'm sorry it took me two weeks to update - I wanted to update weekly originally, but I did some editing in this chapter and I ended up adding more than 1,000 words. It actually was much shorter! And I'm still not really content with it. Major OOC all the way sigh

I hope you like it, though - it gets better later, promise. And I'll work harder to make the story better, I'm going to edit all chapters before uploading. (And I still have to type 4 chapters! I'm writing by hand, you know, and type it off later.)

Um... much mushy KaworuShinji interaction in this one. Yippity skippity! And it's not gonna end soon! Weeeh! ... Sorry for that, inner fangirl.

And I wanna thank everyone who posted a comment. You guys make up for all the work! I got few comments, but nice ones (mainly) and that's what counts. I only wonder why some people have to post something about yaoi (this is not yaoi! !) being gross if I wrote "don't like, don't read, no flames". Ridiculous.

Oh, and in case anyone wonders what Asuka's been cursing: "Sometimes I really wonder if you still have all mugs in your cupboard." It's a German saying that means pretty much the same as "one beer short of a sixpack"