Back in her room, Asuka can only hug the pillow against herself and stare at the far wall. She hates this feeling, the pent up frustration, the growing sense of wanting to do something, but unsure of what, the urge to smash and yell and scream until she felt empty and hollow and drained. Better than this.

Another moment of staring and she snaps, scooping up the alarm clock from alongside the be she shares with Kaworu (how can he sit there and talk to him, how can he sit there and act like it's all normal-) and she hurls it at the far wall with a clatter. She slams a fist into the wall next to her, ignoring the blossoming feeling of pain.

She wants to hurt and be hurt and she can't think of another way to do it.