The World We Couldn't Have

Chapter 4 - Hangovers

Her eyes fluttered open, golden rays scattered through the blinds, bathing the room in the warm hues of sunrise. Sunrise. Goddammit, did she seriously have to wake up at sunrise? She twisted over in the bed onto her back, letting out a soft groan as she stared up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Her head throbbed. Of course she had to have a hangover. She laid there for a moment, ruminating on whether last night had really been worth it. Sure, she was nearly thirty, but her body certainly wasn't. Better not to dwell on it, though. Not like last night would ever happen again.

The light pushed through the blinds, almost mocking the girl's attempts to cling onto sleep. She buried her head into the pillow to block the sun's relentless attack. But, staying in bed meant being alone with her thoughts longer than she would like. She finally flipped back over, staring at the ceiling once again. She wasn't used to waking up this way–with vague, hazy memories of easy smiles and a night without responsibilities fading in and out, the kind of feeling she thought she had long since outgrown. A sigh slipped out, both irritated and strangely at peace. Why did every single thing have to pull her in two directions at once?

The ceiling came into focus, unfamiliar enough to make herself squint in mild irritation. I don't know this ceiling, she thought to herself, feeling her head pulse with pain. God, her head hurt badly. Where the hell was she? She slowly pierced it together–this was Toji's house. Where Ayanami... or whatever her name had turned out to be had once been taking care of Tsubame. Not exactly the memory she wanted this morning. She sighed, pressing her palm firmly to her forehead. Kensuke and Toji were likely somewhere nearby, nursing their own headaches.

With a final huff, she tossed the blanket off, rubbing her temples in a half-hearted attempt to soothe the pounding in her skull. The thought of joining the two men gave her pause. Kensuke and Toji were probably drinking whatever passed for coffee around here, and maybe even laughing about something stupid from last night. She'd definitely need a reminder of the previous evening's events, anyways. The thought of joining the two made her hesitate. A part of her wanted to find the two men, but a part of her clung stubbornly to the usual distance she kept from others. If her vague recollection of last night had indicated anything, she was getting too close.

She slowly stood, realizing she was still in her plug suit from the day before. I must smell awful, she thought with a sigh. It was the day after the final battle. The memory already felt distant, but the dried sweat clinging to her reminded her how recent it all was. It was almost insulting how quickly everything seemed to move on. She'd gone to celebrate last night, then somehow stumbled her way to Toji's place to crash. A pang of guilt surged through her. Why the hell did I even go? People were dead. People she cared about—no matter how much she hid it—were gone. But deep down, she knew she hadn't really been celebrating. She'd gone because... she was lonely. Even so, admitting she went out of sheer selfishness wasn't something she could accept, not now.

She slid open the door to the bedroom, the now unfiltered light stinging her eye. She covered her good eye with her hand, scrunching her face at the discomfort. The thought from yesterday slipped into her head again. Do I really even need the eyepatch anymore? She felt the temptation to pull it off surge through her, but she elected to stay on the side of caution. Slowly, she uncovered her good eye, blinking rapidly as the light set her headache throbbing again. She cursed the sun under her breath, before turning and making her way down the short hallway. Ahead, she could hear the low murmur of conversation coming from the living room.

Kensuke and Toji sat across from each other on the floor, hunched over their own mugs of rehydrated coffee, billowing steam into the air. They had been discussing something, before Toji, facing the hallway, looked up and noticed Asuka. He gave his usual warm smile, though she could see the pain written in it–he was nursing his own headache, too. "Good morning, Shikinami," He said, absentmindedly taking a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched, slightly parting his lips to blow air through. The contents of the cup had clearly been too hot for his mouth. Kensuke turned his head and gave a small wave, his eyes half closed in discomfort.