He's at a loss for words. Shinji looks down at the envelope, its weight a minimal presence in his hands. Even as he pushed Kaworu away, Kaworu is still trying. Even now, he's telling him that he deserves to be loved when no, that's not true, because he's a pilot without his machine, a boy whose father abandoned him--

Shinji's eyes sting. His throat tightens. His fingers crinkle the envelope slightly.

What's there to be admired about him?