She moves too quickly for him to react. The slap hits its mark, ringing loudly in his ears. The flesh stings. Shinji's hand shoots up, touching his bruising cheek.

He's reminded of the first time he's been struck--by Misato, for disobeying an order. Punished for responding with the wrong attitude.

He deserves this. He deserves her hate. He deserves to be hit, he knows this and it crushes him. He wants to crawl and hide away, but he stiffly sits there, head turned to the side, fighting back his own tears, doing what he did best:

Nothing.

He doesn't understand her. Doesn't understand why she has to keep pushing him away even as she yanked him forwards, leaving him breathless and unsure. He's been looking at her. He's been watching her, just like she wanted. That's all he's done, all he dares to do. But she wants something more, wants something that he has to step out of the safety of his carefully constructed solitude to understand, and he's terrified to do that. He can't do that. He can't be expected to, right?

(He's a coward, through and through.)

So when she grabs his shirt he breaks, like the weakling he is. His voice cracks as he answers her.

"I'm sorry. I've been trying. I've tried. You don't understand either. You don't understand how I've been feeling! I--"

A shaky exhale. He has to resist the urge to bury his head between his hands and scream.

"It isn't fair. It isn't-- you can't expect me to understand you like this!"