redheadcarrier | Crush Intensifies

Crush Intensifies

When the world fell apart (for the second time), Asuka decided she was done with saving the world. No more being a hero. No more putting herself in danger for a bunch of ungrateful morons who she was never going to meet anyway. No, when the world finally got back to a place where it made sense, she was just going to try and live a relatively normal life. Finish school (not that she really needed it), get a job, try to sort out everything. Try to get her head back on straight. As much as she denied it to herself and to the rest of the world, she knew that she was a little fucked in the head. She'd had conversations about it with Kaworu. She'd opened herself up to Tenjou. She'd found a friend in Maryam. Half of it had ended up a waste of time, as far as she was concerned, but when the world finally stopped spinning and she was on her way back to normalcy, they kept her sane.

Lately, it was one specific person who was keeping her sane. Utena. As damaged as they both were ("I'm so fucked up"), they were both veterans of their weird, strange time in Exsilium and ending up in the same place after all of it finally went poof was their luck of the draw. Asuka kept in touch, considering that Tenjou was a friend and one of the few people she felt like she could actually confide in. To almost everyone else around her, Asuka kept on trying to be that arrogant, hot-headed girl that she'd started out as years and years ago. It was easier than trying to change (or felt like it, anyway).

So she spent a lot of her spare time bumming around with Utena, at least when she had the chance. It almost felt normal. They did relatively normal things, like get tea, talk about the weather, go running together. Just normal, every-day stuff that you'd expect a pair of young women to do when they hung out. It was almost like the last three-quarters of her life hadn't actually happened (except for all of the memories and the psychological trauma).

Except something had changed.

Asuka wasn't sure when things had started turning over in her head or when she'd started becoming one of those people. Maybe she wasn't one of them, maybe it was just Utena. She didn't know. All she knew was that Tenjou was becoming the highlight of her week. She wanted to be around her, she wanted to be close to her, she wanted to spend time wit hher. None of that would've been too weird, but every time she saw Tenjou, she swore that her heart skipped a beat or her face flushed and sometimes (sometimes) she found herself lying in bed at night and staring at the ceiling and wondering if Tenjou was thinking about her.

Why her?

Asuka acted like nothing had changed, though. She kept going over for visits. Like this one. She was supposed to help Tenjou put together a little dinner, maybe zone out for a bit, try to act like they were perfectly normal teenage girls with no super horrible things in their pasts.

Ha.

Asuka rings the doorbell for the second time, toe tapping against the pavement. Maybe she can spin her nervousness into irritation and anger. That always seemed to work for her before.

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If someone had told the Utena Tenjou of a few years back that one of her best friends would be a girl like Asuka, she wouldn't have believed them. But then she had ended up in Exsilium — twice! — and gradually the span and scope of her world had gone from condensed to very big, and very frightening, and it did not seem so strange to have Asuka as a friend anymore.

Utena is wary of forming attachments now. To burden another person with her pain seemed an irresponsible way to live, and so she was distant in her interactions. But Asuka understood her, in her own way, and in turn Utena understood Asuka. They had learned to fit around one another, like two pieces from a different puzzle that somehow matched. And Utena was the best at handling Asuka's moods because Utena herself did not feel much of anything, most of the time. Not anymore. Living is like a performance act.

These are not thoughts she shares with anyone. She is not in the habit of even admitting these thoughts exist. Still, for little pockets of time, around Asuka, it's easier to live instead of float about and barely exist. She pulled her back into the present.

She is not to the level of thinking of anyone in "that way." Not yet. Her dreams, when they are not nightmares, are filled with the melancholy visage of Anthy Himemiya and endless bright blue skies. There's no room in her heart for anyone else. She doesn't form attachments romantically, either, because those are different burdens, different things she doesn't want to bother anyone with. The notion of what was "normal" attraction had been flung somewhere out of the window when she'd been skewered alive by swords. She'd be shocked to know that anyone was attracted to her, because she spent so long just trying to keep afloat.

Asuka's crush, as a result, has gone entirely unnoticed. Flown right over her head. If she had an inkling of it, it was crushed and buried somewhere so far deep that she wouldn't have to worry about it. So they spend their days doing normal things, like normal girls, who had not been through wars or lost eyes or had their childhood crushed underfoot like a fragile rose beneath a cruel heel. When she does notice it...well. Who knew? The only thing for certain was that it would be awkward.

Utena answers on the second ring. She looks tired, though this is not altogether unusual. For a moment, she blinks owlishly at Asuka, as if she wasn't expecting her. Then clarity dawns a second later.

"You're a little early." An observation, not a complaint. "C'mon in. I was just getting things started."

"Took you long enough," Asuak grumbles, mainly for her own benefit. She's not really that irritated, but forcing herself to be irritated is a better outlet then giving in to her urge to just stare at Tenjou or babble something. No; she can just enjoy being around her and that's where this is going to end. She's not going to tell her best (only) friend that she stays up at night thinking about her.

So she ducks inside. It's just a normal visit between friends. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. She lugs her bag of groceries inside and heads for the kitchen(ette). She's learned how to do more of her own cooking over the years.

"What have you got going back here, anyway?"

A shrug of her shoulders. She's learned not to feed into Asuka's irritations, takes them on with the unerring steadiness of a cliff face buffeted by ocean waves. "Geez. It was two rings. Maybe you're just impatient."

It's said mildly. Almost joking. Utena falls into step behind Asuka, and answers: "Curry."

It's something that is relatively easy to make and that she can generally find ingredients for that aren't questionable or horrifying. She can cook well enough if it's simple. It's a step up from the days of eating what she could find, which it turned out, was pretty scarce in a war-torn dystopia. She pokes her head into the bag of groceries Asuka's bought, scavenging for something...

"Oi, Asuka-chan. Did you bring sweets?"

"I'm exactly as patient as I need to be!" Asuka retorts, although there's not nearly as much venom there as there might have been a few years ago. It's all different now and this feels like a part of a routine (which is comforting in its own way and irritating in others). She starts digging for cooking utensils (she knows where they are) and turns around to give Utena's shoulder a quick tap with a spoon.

"Hey, don't go eating everything before I have a chance to start!" She pauses and then adds, almost as an after-thought, "Of course I did. There's a package of shortbread cookies in there. But don't pig out on those! I'm cooking!"

She sounds a little indignant. Sheesh, she's going through all this trouble for you, Tenjou.

"Mm, sure." The words come dry and unamused, but Utena is smiling, a little — a tiny crook of her lips. She emerges from the bag with one of the cookies between her teeth, unmindful of Asuka's scolding.

"And yeah, yeah, I know." Muffled, said between bites. "I'm only gonna eat one. Don't freak out." The pinnacle of table manners, Utena props herself on one of the counters to finish her cookie, lazily swinging her legs back and forth. The rest of the cookie is polished off, but slowly. Sweets were a rare gift. She likes to savor them. "Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were excited to cook for me."

Asuka grumbles as she starts to set up in her little workspace. Cutting board, knives, saucepan - everything she needs to make a relatively simple curry. Nothing fancy, but she'd stopped expecting or trying to find something "fancy" a long time ago. Utena's lazy response draws a slight indignant sniff (and a hint of pink in her cheeks). Did Utena suspect actually suspect anything?

No way.

Asuka pushes on, sounding a touch indignant, answer a bit too fast, "What? Are you saying I can't be? It's not like either of us get out that often, you know. You ought to be thanking me for making your life a little more exciting. "

Edited 2016-12-07 05:50 (UTC)

Utena, naturally (and perhaps luckily), doesn't notice the blushing. Asuka's response though, gets a little huff of laughter. "I'm not saying that. It's just nice, that's all. That you're excited. I like spending time with you, even if you're grumpy."

It's a genuine response, said without flustering. Matter-of-fact, even. Utena often said thoughtful things thoughtlessly. This, at least, hadn't changed after the Revolution. "Do you need my help with any of that stuff?"

"I can do it," Asuka replies with a bit of a snap. She's always been touchy about what she can and can't do and that's only gotten worse since her eye injury. She still doesn't like accepting help, even if it's from someone she actually considers a friend.

A friend. Weird to think that she actually has one.

She takes a breath and then sighs, trying not to sound too apologetic.

"But if you really want to help, I guess you can start washing the potatoes."

"Alright, alright...geez." Getting her head bitten off by Asuka is so commonplace it's just about routine. She takes no real offense to it anymore, and brightens up when she's allowed to help out.

"I can do that." By juggling the potatoes before they actually get to the sink, that is. She's actually not bad at it. She might even be showing off a little. "Say, Asuka-chan, I bet I could join a circus with this sort of thing. What do you say?"

A joke, to lighten the mood. She does this often, some odd dexterous feat meant to draw attention. It's better than thinking too hard and too often on the various misfortunes they've had to deal with.

Oh my God, Utena, please. Asuka blinks and looks up, her one good eye wide and staring, mouth open in a little 'o'. For a moment she stays like that and then she starts laughing. She settles against the counter, covering her mouth with her hand as she tries to stifle the giggles.

"You probably could-"

Occasionally, Asuka does have those bursts of good humor. There's kindness and empathy underneath her bitter exterior. It just takes a little while for it to come out. As she recovers from her laughing fit, she looks to be in a bit of a better mood. And her cheeks are a little flushed as she shoots a sidelong glance at Utena and goes back to work.

"Probably be more fun than this dump, right?"

Edited 2017-04-27 02:54 (UTC)

"Probably." She agrees to this gamely, smiling at the sound of Asuka's laughter: real and bright instead of high and cruel. But then her expression goes thoughtful for a moment. She turns toward the sink, grabs the little brush she uses to scrub vegetables clean, and starts to work.

"But I don't mind it here, most of the time." It was where she deserved to be, after all — a sentiment she thinks often but wouldn't dare say to Asuka. The reaction would be nuclear. She's not absentminded enough to test her luck.

"I guess it could be worse," Asuka reluctantly agrees. She would yell at Utena if she knew what she was thinking. Utena was... well. Utena was Utena and she had so many positive qualities that Asuka wished she could understand. Asuka didn't know how she really felt about herself, but she knew, without a doubt, how she felt about Utena.

Maybe she should actually say something.

She scowls at her cutting board at the thought and throws herself into her preparations with renewed vigor. Later. She'll do it later. Onions go into the skillet, followed by some spices and as that all that starts to sautee, she goes to work on getting the chicken ready to go.

"...hey. Utena. You ever think about what you want to do? Or where you want to live? Is this gonna be it?"

"Huh?" The potatoes are washed, rinsed, set off to the side. Utena bides her time on answering that question by playing dumb for a few moments. Finally she frowns, brow furrowed, the serious expression somewhat out of place on her face.

"No, I guess not." A lazy, one-armed shrug to hide the way her shoulders have gone taut. "Just surviving here is enough to think about."

"I guess so," Asuka responds. She's starting on getting everything put into the pot so it can just cook for a while. She's a fan of that; means she can do something else while she waits. The sound of the knife cubing potatoes feels a bit loud for some reason.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing something."

Byt then she remembers her world is dead and gone. Her own shoulders have tightened up a bit. Where is she going with this? What is she even going to say?

"...but. I mean, I guess I'm glad you're here. Makes it... worthwhile."

"Ah, gee...I'm glad you're here too. I think I'd be in pretty bad shape if you weren't around." For all of Utena's unease, her smile to Asuka is bright and warm. It's nice, to have a friend. Someone who understands her, who she believes she understands in turn.

"But what do you mean? Missing something like what?"

Gosh, Utena. Why'd you have to go and say something like that? Asuka's face really does turn a bit redder at the first part of her comment and she mentally curses herself. She needs to say something instead of just stewing in silence like this. Instead, she redoubles her work, head down as she tries to finish getting everything in the pot and cooking.

"I mean - I don't know - just - something. Like - someone, maybe. Someone you can just trust, you know?"

She's beating around the bush, still. Maybe it's for the best.

"Like a friend?"

Utena tilts her head, considers this. "Well, I guess so." A chinscratch.

Beating around the bush does neither of them any favors. Utena's a little too slow on the uptake to get the significance of the conversation. She laughs a little: still puzzled, but amused, too. "Gee. You make it sound like you haven't got any friends. It makes me feel bad."

"I didn't say I didn't have any friends...!" Asuka responds with a little glare. Although it's kind of true. Utena and maybe one or two others are the people she considers friends. She scowls and goes to was her hands. Now they just need to wait while everything cooks.

"And I don't mean... a friend. Like. Something else."

She's getting there. Give her a little bit Utena and eventually she'll just blurt it out. She settles down at the table, chin in her hands as she watches Utena intently with her remaining, bright blue eye.

Being scrutinized isn't totally unusual, but Utena has spent the past scattering of years working on not being noticed. To be the center of anyone's focus makes her uncomfortable.

She doesn't make any move to get closer, but she leans back against the countertop and stares back for a second before her gaze cants away. She frowns, though it's less thoughtful now and more perturbed. Rubs at the back of her neck.

"Like a boyfriend, or something?"

"Or... something," Asuka replies. She can't quite bring herself to say it. But she should, shouldn't she? If she keeps beating around the bush like this, she'll never know. But if she says something, she might lose her only friend. Her nose wrinkles and then she drags a hand over her face.

"Look, Utena..."

She's calling her Utena. Not Tenjou.

"I have something... I have something I want to tell you."

The use of her personal name gives her pause. Utena's gaze sharpens some. It's not like Asuka to be so...serious. Grumpy, absolutely. Kind of mean-spirited? Sometimes. But this conversation suddenly takes on new weight.

"Yeah?" A little smile, an attempt at lightening the mood. "Should I sit down?"

Her glib attitude aside, she's at a loss, and a little uneasy.

"I don't know!" Asuka snaps, feeling herself bristle, and then reels it in. She can do this. She can talk to her only friend (the friend she's been silently carrying a torch for for the last few months) without biting her head off. She owes Utena that much. Right?

"Look - we've been friends for a while, right?" Asuka shifts her weight, feeling unsure. She's about to take a plunge.

"...I've been thinking. About you. And I think I like you as... more than a friend. You know?"

Utena's eyes go very wide. The confession is like a sucker punch: unexpected, enough to steal the breath for her lungs. For what seems like a long time, she only stares, shellshocked, at a loss on what to say next.

Finally...

"Oh. I..." She seems to struggle inwardly with something, to find some sort of answer that might be sufficient, and only comes up with: "I didn't know."

That wasn't really the reaction Asuka had hoped for, but she doesn't know what else she should've expected. It's not like Utena's ever expressed any sort of interest in her beyond being friendly. She feels stilted. Awkward.

"I - well, yeah, I wasn't expecting you to know," Asuka responds with a frown, gaze fixed firmly on the ground about ten feet in front of her.

"I just - I thought I should say something."

Utena rubs at her arm. She thinks of about a million things she could say, but nothing seems to suffice. Eventually, she moves to sit next to Asuka at the table.

A long pause follows this. Then she sighs, and all of the facade of being casual seems to leave her. She looks tired.

"Yeah. I guess it's hard to keep that to yourself. Listen...ah, I don't even know where to start."

She frowns. "I like you, Asuka-chan. You're my best friend. Nothing like this will change that. But I...I can't be that person for you. I'm not any good at it."

Her way of saying, you deserve better.

Asuka's spine stiffens and she sits up a bit straighter as Utena settles in next to her. Her head cants so she can actually track her with her "good" eye, lips pursed. This isn't how she wanted this to go. This isn't how she wanted Utena to find out. And what's worse is that Utena seems to be taking it terribly. Or at least with indifference.

"Can't or won't?" Asuka lets the words slip out. She's always been good at being blunt.

"Do you just... not feel the same?" Asuka's hands wring together on the table. She should stop, before she hurts herself even more.

"Because I don't know if I really believe that you're not any good at it."

This time, the silence lasts longer. She can’t seem to look directly at Asuka.

“I don’t know.”

It’s said very softly. Utena stares down at her own hands, sighs. “I really don’t. Ever since...well, after everything, I don’t feel anything. I know it sounds strange, but it’s easier that way.”

This is something she has never admitted to anyone. It’s something she has trouble even thinking about herself. She’s still staring at her hands. They are pockmarked here and there with old scars, all layered one over the other.

"You don't feel anything?" Asuka sounds a little disbelieving. This conversation is slowly getting turned onto its head. She was worried about being rejected, but int a way this is worse. It's not even that Utena knows for sure. It's just... emotional numbness.

"But-" Asuka's eye settles on Utena's hands. She knows about the scars. Has an idea of what happened. She's never really pressed for details. She frowns and on an impulse, she reaches over and yanks on Utena's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"If I can pull myself back out of that bullshit, so can you!"

Her own death. Everything surrounding it.

"No. I don't feel anything."

Sometimes, she'll get a flash of something. Joy, or pain, but for the most part it is an unerring numbness. A lack of anything. It's as familiar to her as an old friend, by now.

She lets Asuka take her hand. Why not? It would hardly change how she felt. Or didn't.

"I've tried before. It doesn't really work." A shrug. "It doesn't bother me. It's better than before."

When she'd been miserable all the time. Zeroing out to nothing was better than that.

"Tenjou-" Asuka starts to reply. Pauses. She doesn't know how to deal with this. She's barely equipped enough to handle her own emotional trauma. How does she handle Utena's? Something sad and forlorn flickers across her expression as she tries to think of what to actually do with this.

"You're stronger than that! This is-"

Her teeth grit and a noise of frustration rolls out of her. Raw and angry.

"How can you just give up?"

A pause, then. A period of long and somber silence. Asuka's obvious pain hurts her too, but in the vague, murky way most pain did to her, these days.

"Stronger, huh." A one-armed shrug. She pulls her hands away, rests them in her lap. "Right. Listen...I understand what you're trying to do. Thank you, for that. But this is a decision I've made for myself. This is how I've decided to handle it. So, can we please talk about something else?"

"No! We can't!" Asuka's on her feet with a yell, voice loud and angry and trembling. Her arm sweeps out in one of those broad gestures that wouldn't have been out of place on her old self, back on Earth. Tokyo-3. Her teeth are gritted and she steps forward, slamming a hand into Utena's shoulders and shoving her back in her chair.

"You can't just stop feeling! You might as well just be a robot if you do that!"

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Crush Intensifies

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five months later rip me