The World We Couldn't Have

Chapter 3 - Dog Days

The two men walked across the central road of village-3, the setting sun stretching their shadows across the gravel path, turning modest single-story buildings and old train cars into looming silhouettes. It almost felt like old times to Kensuke, when he and Toji would walk home from school, their biggest worries being the next midterm. Those days felt worlds away now, but still seemed to follow him wherever he went with the doctor. The village looked like what Kensuke would have once called the slums–a patchwork of weather-beaten buildings, somewhere between repair and decay, slowly giving way to new homes, humble but sturdy, each one a testament to the survival of its community. Kensuke couldn't help but smile, they had all come so far.

"Crazy, isn't it?" Kensuke pondered aloud, hands in his pockets as he walked, "Just a while ago we were freaking out about school, now there's... this." He gestured to the houses and train cars, bathed in the orange hew of the sunset.

Toji gave a low chuckle. "That wasn't 'just a while ago', but I get what you mean. Whole world's flipped upside down since then. Though, I guess it's returning to some semblance of normalcy..."

Kensuke nodded, kicking a rock down the gravel path. "Normal doesn't exist anymore, huh? Sometimes I think about what the world was before all this. We were just a bunch of kids running around with stupid worries and no clue of what was coming."

"Guess that's just it," Toji pondered, looking up at the sky, darkening into deeper shades of blue, "The world just keeps on moving despite everything, and somehow we're still here trying to rebuild it."

Kensuke stayed quiet for a moment, pondering. He couldn't help but question if all of it was worth it. If the people that died were a fair price for the state of things. "Sometimes I wonder if they'd want it this way–the ones who... you know. Katsuragi, Ayanami, Shinji..." His voice softened. "They all fought so hard, gave up so much. I hope we're at least doing something right with this second chance."

Toji clapped a hand on his shoulder with a pat hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Even though the man had gotten gentler over the years, he still had that natural strength that never seemed to waver. "Hell, man, we're here. We're making it work, somehow. Besides, I don't think Asuka would give us an ounce of rest if we weren't respecting that legacy."

Kensuke nodded, and let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah... you're right. She'd probably belt us one."

Toji nodded, nudging Kensuke on the shoulder. "Besides, this is not the night for brooding–we're celebrating! Did you see the ocean earlier? Water's actually blue. Just like that aquarium Kaji showed us–remember that?"

Kensuke chuckled, with a wry smile on his face. "That was ages ago, I'm honestly surprised you remember."

"It's sort of hard not to," Toji remarked, turning Eastward to the water in the gaps between houses, the waters sparkling as the sun dipped below the horizon, "We grew up with a red ocean, seeing a blue one... is honestly surreal."

The two walked in comfortable silence, the familiar chirping of crickets fading into the background as the sounds of laughter and chatter rose ahead. The bar came into view–a humble structure made from salvaged corrugated aluminum, smoke drifting lazily from a crooked, makeshift chimney. Its front door hung open, groups gathered outside, nursing assorted glasses and making pleasant conversation.

The bar had been made a few years ago as an experiment and an attempt at some normalcy. The village could only brew basic rice wine each harvest, but over the years, those involved had refined their art, adding personal touches and improving consistency. As Kensuke and Toji stepped inside, the warmth of the furnace wrapped them in an embrace. They exchanged nods and waves with familiar faces, though most in attendance tonight were crew from the Wunder. Despite everything, the room was filled with easy laughter and spirited teasing as people passed drinks around. Newcomers struggled down the potent wine, coughing and spluttering as it burned their throats, earning them playful jabs and cheers from the veteran drinkers. Some of those who had been injured were in attendance, bandages around their heads and arms slinged, nursing the pain with the alcohol, laughing and enjoying themselves just as much as their comrades.