Rma Isn't Flat Or Boring At All. I Read The First Chapter And Was Hooked IMMEDIATELY, And Then Read All

+32° 37’ 39.72”, +129° 44’ 17.73” abandoned buildings on ha island, japan

Flower Curse | 3

[levi x male!reader x erwin]

this work will have vomiting, heavy angst and death. the reader suffers from the hanakahi disease.

summary: you loved him. he didn’t. everything goes downhill when suddenly, you cough a petal when you think of him.

t w o

After that horrible and bizarre moment, you were sitting across the room with Moblit, Erwin was sitting in front of Hange as she was behind of her desk sitting as well, looking at the blonde with seriousness. Moblit gave you water and helped you take off your jacket, because you were suddenly feeling exhausted at the sudden force of throwing up. Currently Erwin and Hange were talking about your current situation, but you really didn't pay any attention about it– you were too tired to listen.

Feeling the jacket off you made you sigh in relief; you wanted to strip right there. You felt like your clothes were suddenly suffocating you– Was the uniform that tight before? You weren't sure anymore. And as if Moblit could read your thoughts, while placing your jacket on a small desk, he said, “Maybe it would be a good idea to take off the harness as well. What do you think?”

“Yes, Moblit. Please,” you said –or rather begged– sounding pleading, only to make Moblit smile in an apologetic way and helped you. You sat down as Moblit take off your boots and stood up again so he could help you with the harness. You placed your hands on his shoulders, suddenly feeling dizzy so you didn't want to fall. He was turned back of your actions, but understood the cause of it when he saw your troubled face.

“Take it easy, you stood up to quickly. Just don't move and hold onto me, alright?” you nodded and tried to calm you down, hands still on Moblit’s shoulders. He began to take off the harness as gently as he could, suddenly feeling a strong gaze on him that made him... uncomfortable. And before he could turn his head, you spoke.

“Man, I feel like shit,” sighing and closing your eyes you tried to relax. “And this happened just a week before the expedition... I’m so lucky.”

“You have always been quite lucky, [Name]. Just like that one time with the abnormal or the other time with the black horse,” he slightly laughed hearing you sigh in irritation, remembering your near-death experiences, “these two situations could have been your death, but somehow you came out alive. That's why we call you the «The Luckiest Soldier of Humanity»”

“Well, yeah. But whoever came up with that nickname is an idiot. It sounds so ridiculous,” you sighed, “I hate the «of Humanity» bullshit, so absurd.”

“And I'm even luckier to get this unknown disease– if it's a disease.” You thought.

Finishing taking off the harness, Moblit placed it on the same desk and turned to you, “Whatever it is, I'm sure you will survive it. Just like you say, you are lucky most of the time.”

You only grunted, making the brunette softly laugh. “But I don't know if I will be lucky this time.” You thought.

You approached where Erwin was and sat next to him, trying to understand what they were talking about, but soon Hange looked at you and smiled.

“[Name]! I see you have a better face now! But stripping in front of people is quite reveling, you know!” she joked, grinning and furrowed her eyebrows, looking like a complete idiot.

Snorting, you replied, “Believe me, Hange. I want to take off all my clothes right now, but my decency is keeping me in rule.”

“Squad Leader Hange, I'm going to clean the... flowers?” Moblit said unsure, “I'm going to get the mop, I’ll be right back.” And before he could leave, Erwin called him.

“Berner,” they both looked at each other, “No word from this to anyone, understood?” the blonde said with an authority voice– usually his normal tone when he ordered something serious.

Moblit’s expression turned serious and replied, “Understood, commander,” and left.

“Alright, now,” you began, “What the hell I have?”

Hange’s expression turned serious and deep in thought, holding her jaw with her fingers. “I'm not really sure,” she hummed, “I've never seen this before... This happened today, right?”

At the question you shifted uncomfortably on your seat, making Erwin furrow his eyebrows with a questioning manner, “Did this happen before?” he asked, sounding... somehow irritated.

“Uhm... yes...?” you answered, sounding like a child getting caught on something they shouldn't have. Before anyone could say anything you bet them to it, “To my defense, I didn't throw up like this. I just coughed a petal three days ago. I thought I breathed it by accident, but it seems that isn't the case... hehe…”

That didn't calm down Erwin, judging by his irritation showing off. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, he said, “If I didn't find you at that exact moment, would you have told me?” he asked, referring at the incident on your office not too long ago.

Gulping, you decided to not lie to him– either if saying yes or no it wouldn't satisfy him, anyway. You just shocked your head, ashamed to look at him. Hearing him sighing in disappoint made you feel bad– he was your friend, your comrade. You were a horrible friend, making him feel like this.

“Throwing up flowers... flowers...” Hange said, trying to remember something about the problem at hand, ignoring your little conversation. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers, making the two of you turn at her, watching expectantly, forgetting about the awkward conversation.

She quickly stood up and approached her bookshelf. Looking at it, murmuring something inaudible she paced her fingers on the books, trying to find the one she was looking for. “What was the name of the book? Hanake?” she thought, moving her eyes at one book to another, until she found the one she was looking for, “Hanahaki Curse!” she yelled, taking the book on her hands and returning to her seat.

“Nahaka what?” you asked confused, looking as lost as Erwin.

“Hanahaki Curse. This book,” she holds the book so you both could see the front of it– just small letters were on it– the exact same title Hange said before. “Talks about the same thing you may have.”

Erwin looked somehow relieved, “So this is a medical book?”

At the question, Hange laughed nervously, making both of you farrow your eyebrows at her, suspiciously. “Well, it's a... children book.”

Blinking with no emotion in particular, you said, “A children book,” she nods, “A fairy tale. Something fictional,” you sighed, brushing your hand in your hair, “Oh man...”

Like always, Erwin tried to stay collected about the situation, placing a hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down, he looked at Hange and asked, “I believe you remember it because it's useful, right, Hange?”

She just nodded eagerly and explained, “This book talks about the same thing you have, [Name]. And I believe it can explain why you have it.” Now that made you interested.

“Okay, tell me why then.”

“The book begins about two kids, Darla and Barry. The little girl has affections for the boy, but Barry has no interest in her. They remain friends until their teenage years, with Darla still liking Barry–”

“Hange this is absurd. What the hell are you saying?” you interrupted her, looking irritated. Were you really stay here and hear this nonsense? Absolutely not. “This is something serious; I won’t read a book for children!”

“Now, [Name]. I believe Hange has an answer about what's happening to you, so be quiet and listen to her.”

Grunting irritability, you just sighed and nodded, and Hange returned to telling the story.

“Like I was saying…

Darla never felt different about Barry. But never told him how she felt, because she knew he didn't like her that way. Until one day, Darla saw Barry with another girl, sharing kisses and hugs. That sight made her heartbroken– crying, Darla went to her house, ran to her room and cried on the floor. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation on her throat. First, it felt ticklish, making her softly cough. She thought nothing of it– but the sensation didn't go away. She began to cough harshly, feeling something on her throat– until the last cough she could sense whatever it was inside get out of her.

The unlucky girl spotted a white petal lying on the floor– but before she could think anything of it, the feeling of throwing up appeared.

She threw up flowers all over the floor. And not just white colored flowers; pink and yellow were mixed like a bucket. The unlucky girl only cried more, terrified for what she was feeling and seeing.

“What is all of this!? I–I'm scared!” she shouted, sobbing uncontrollably. All of the noises made her mother open the door of her room, stopping and watching the scene in front of her with a shocking face.

“Oh no... Darla, my dear Darla... not you...” Darla’s mother sadly murmured, approaching her daughter and kneeling beside her. Hugging her, the mother holds Darla’s head on her chest, lovingly.

The two of them just sit on the floor, surrounded by flowers. Both of them crying and only the mother’s reassurance words were heard. Time passed, now mother and daughter were sitting on the daughter’s bed.

“Mother, do you know what I have? Why do I throw up flowers? What is this?” the unlucky girl asked.

Her mother let out a sigh, “My Darla... I’ve something to explain. The thing you have- is called ‘Hanahaki Curse’,” seeing her daughter’s confusing face, she explained. “This... curse makes you throw up flowers. And the cause of that is because of something so silly.

When you love someone, and they don’t love you back you have a very small possibility to... be cursed. The curse it’s so rare to have; but you- you have it now. But hear me- no matter what, I’m by your side, my daughter.”

And with that, little Darla suffered by the flower curse. The unlucky girl never stopped throwing up flowers of different colors.

Darla never met Barry again after knowing the cause of the curse. She didn’t want to see the cause of it; she suffered enough on her own.

The unlucky girl lied on her bed staring at nothing in particular with her mother at her side. The girl’s lungs filled with flowers, making her unable to breathe.

Darla disappeared from the world with her mother at her side, just like she promised.”

Nobody dared to say a word after that. The silence in the room was so tense; the three of you could feel that very clearly. You were shocked, clearly. You only thought was if you were going to have the same fate as little Darla.

“Well that’s… very dark for a children book, uh?” you said, trying to get less anxious.

The blonde’s hand reached your shoulder in a comforting manner. You turned to see his usual neutral expression, but judging by his shoulders he was just as tensed by the current situation as you.

“Hange, does the book have an author? Something we can use to reach the person who wrote this?” Erwin asked.

Hearing the questions, the woman began to search for a name in the cover, the back... but there was no name. You now where in a high stress level at the situation, but she opened the book again, going at the very last page of it, and there was two words elegantly written on the center;

“Barry Ziegler”

She sighed in relief and looked at the two of you with one of her usual smiles, “We have a name! It’s better than nothing. We can look for him or at least, find someone with the same last name.”

“Yes, we could do that. But we don’t even know how old this book is. For all we know, this guy is dead or the name he gave is fake. This doesn’t give me much hope.” You stated, looking annoyed.

“We can’t think like that,” the blonde instantly said, “I’m going to find information of any ‘Barry Ziegler’ inside the walls. This shouldn’t be hard to do- after all, these walls aren’t that big.”

You just shrugged and nodded, feeling a little better than before. Somehow, Erwin’s words always made you comforted. The guy was commander after all; he had his way with words.

The three of you chatted a little of what to do next. Moblit came and cleaned the mess, then leaving when Hange told him to look for some records about the ’curse’, if there were any. After some minutes the chatter turned out more pleasant, talking about the cadets and the jokes you heard from them sometimes. Erwin left first, saying he had important things to do, but you stayed with Hange a little longer.

“It’s Levi, right?” she said with a serious tone, unusual for her.

You just nodded, looking ashamed. Hange took your hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

One tear came, and then another and another, now crying in silence in your friend’s presence.

You somehow knew this wasn’t going to get better.

But you hoped you were wrong.

f o u r

e m p t y / 13

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

chapter twelve

someone else

"[Name]! Wake up already!" Eren’s voice is the first thing [Name] hears, right on his ear. His friend moves him and pushes him around, trying to wake him up. The sleepy boy only gets irritated by the harsh movement, punching the brunette away from him. “H–Hey! That hurt!”

”Go away,” is the only thing [Name] can say before hiding his face on his pillow and sleep again. Unfortunately for him, his friend doesn’t give up. Eren tightens his hold on [Name]’s shirt and makes him sit by force, making the sleepy boy a little dizzy by the sudden movement.

”There you go!” He grins, “Marco advised me to lay your clothes here, so hurry and change! I’ll be right back.” He stands in the same spot, looking at [Name]’s cute sleepy state for some time before leaving.

The [hair color] haired is not awake, clearly. His eyes close and open every second, and he can’t sit still. Luckily, all the noise around of everyone talking, yelling makes him not fall asleep again.

[Name] undresses so lazily it almost looks like hes doing it asleep— almost even falling. Somehow he gets poorly dressed, and doesn't even try to tighten the straps around his legs correctly. His hair is a mess, his shirt is a mess, he’s drooling and he’s almost going to fall asleep again. But luckily, a blond passing trough sees his trouble.

"Need help?" [Name] slowly tilts his head and looks at him, trying to recognize him. Reiner can notice he is half-asleep still, and he can't stop a chuckle from seeing his sleepy state. "Damn, I think you are worse than Bertolt."

[Name] just stares a the blond kneeling and tightening his straps, "is as if... they don't want me to wake up,” he says in a whisper, yawning without care.

Blinking, Reiner stops his actions to understand what he means.  What he said came out of nowhere, and it was a couple of seconds what Reiner needed to understand. "They...?"

The [hair color] haired blinks, "I dreamed something important... but I forgot about it...”

[Name] stands up as he sees the blond finished, but Reiner can see his buttoned shirt is horribly done. "Here, you didn't button them right." The blond’s hands brushes against [Name]’s naked skin, making him flinch. The touch makes the taller teenager blush, but fortunately what happened before in training changed his semblance to change the topic, "ah, about what you said before..."

[Name] blinked, slightly tilting his head. "what?"

The blond blinks blankly, his mouth gaping. "In the forest, when we were doing our first practice with the gear," Reiner explains, "don't you remember?"

[Name] rubs his left eye without much care, "I didn't say anything— I just left...?"

"But you said—" He blinks, not fully believing him. But seeing [name]'s clueless expression makes him not say anything and leave things be, "...I guess I just imagined it, uh? It's nothing, then."

"If you say so." [Name] notices Reiner’s hands were frozen buttoning his shirt, and just stares at him curiously. “Are you alright?”

”Uh— yeah, sure. I was just...” he shows a grin, “trying not to lose my mind.”

”Uh?” [Name] takes Reiner’s left hand, seeing a small cut, “what’s this?”

The tall boy had to blink a couple of times to remember. ”Got a little trouble getting the hang of the gear. Nothing to worry about— or are you my cute nurse?” The blond tried to play it off— to try and have an embarrassing reaction out of [Name]. He expected the boy to yell at him or embarrass him— but what he got made him feel shy.

[Name] took his hand and kissed the small cut with his soft lips— as they were besides a window, the rays of the sun hit his gentle face, his hair... he seemed like a divinity— with those exotic eyes only Reiner could see with that spark, along with that kind smile; an expression so gentle Reiner thought [Name] never wore before.

”My mom told me kisses were a great medicine. Hope it works.” He rubs his hand gently, before letting go.

The taller teenager coughs, trying to hide his blush behind his hand. His eyes traveled around the barracks, being sure there were no prying eyes in their situation. “Well, well, I don’t have to worry anymore about my mistakes, then. I know where to go when I get injured.”

[Name] tilts his head. ”Did it work?”

”Of course it did— see? It seems to fade away.”

”[Name]!!!” Eren’s loud voice is heard coming near, but seeing the close proximity of the two stops with a suspicious glare, “ah? What’s up?”

”Reiner was helping me with my shirt— I’m too sleepy.” [Name] spoke with a big yawn, blinking lazily at his childhood friend.

The brunette frowns, not pleased by that answer. ”If you needed help why didn’t you tell me?!”

”I don’t know where you were. Reiner was nearer.” [Name] glared at Eren, who shut up seeing his harsh gaze. The blond clearly noticed the dominance, pretty surprised [Name] could have such effect on Eren. Reiner smirked.

”What’s this? Are you two together or something? Eren, you look like the clingy boyfriend in the relationship."

[Name] blinks, unsure of what he means. ”Together...?”

”Ah?! What’s with that?!” Eren blushed, clinching his fist, "that's none of your business, Reiner!"

"What? Man, I hoped after I helped you I would be given at least a little of gratitude."

"What if we are, uh?! Is that a problem!!!"

"Wow there, I didn't expect you to actually saying something like that," the blond laughs amused, “well, I can't say [Name] isn't cute, because he is." He plays with [Name]'s messy hair with a smirk, the other just watching the two with a confused stare.

"Hey! What are you getting at!?" The brunette frowns with the action— he didn't know why, but just seeing Reiner touching [Name] so carelessly touched a nerve.

[Name] dozed off, trying not to hear their voices anymore. The only thing he wants is to sleep— he doesn’t want to do anything else. Just thinking about another practice makes him whine. He misses his days with his mom.

Slowly and without the notice of the two, [Name] closed his eyes, still sitting on the bed awkwardly. His slow breathing and tiredness allows him to fall asleep so quickly, and it’s a miracle he sits still on the bed without falling.

”Come on– tell me! Has anybody ever kissed him?”

”Of course not!! Right, [Name]?!” Eren turns to get an answer, but his frown changes into confusion as he sees [Name]’s state. “[Name]?”

The blond catches his state too, noticing his sleeping state, “well, somebody will have to kiss the prince out of his curse.”

Eren glared at Reiner.

 ___________________

 ”I can fucking believe this— no way. Fuck Eren AND Reiner?! Really?!”

”Uh... Are you alright?” The freckled boy chuckles nervously, seeing his friend’s anger showing. "You seem... pretty angry...?"

Surprisingly, [Name] training hand in hand combat was much easier since the beginning. As his first practice with the ODM was a failure, plenty of his friends thought he wasn't that qualified at first. But Armin, Eren, Mikasa and Jean knew otherwise.

Unfortunately the way his new friends knew about it was with a good beating Reiner received.

"I'm going to be easy on you, [Name]. Does it sounds good?” Reiner smirked, passing the wooden knife to his hands. Seeing [Name]’s attitude and how lazy he was today, he decided to not be too harsh on him.

[Name] couldn’t care less about his kindness. He already liked this training — even if it didn’t even counted for their ranking, it wasn’t much trouble. Reiner could be bigger, but that didn’t matter. "If you are that considerate.”

When it came to fight, [Name] didn't even think how, he just did it. It was as if his body was being controlled by someone else— he just let his thought at ease and go with the flow. It was weird, but the boy often thought that was his older self waking up, if that made sense.

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 The blond charged forward, trying to fake stabbing [Name] in the stomach without much plan. [Name] immediately hugged the arm with the knife, turning his back on Reiner and without much trouble throwing the blond’s body on the ground harshly. He took Reiner’s arm and placed his boot on his back, and just pulling a little he could hear the blond’s whimpers and defeat statements.

”Okay, okay! That’s what I get for being considerate?!”

”Yes,” he let go off his arm, helping him stand and dusting him off. “What if you take this more seriously from now?”

Reiner, who carefully looked at [Name], realized he did know about how to fight. Stretching, he smirked, feeling confident. “Alright then, I  guess I stop playing nice. But don’t cry and yell about getting a chance, uh?”

”I can say the same for you.” [Name] smirked.

Every time Reiner tried to attack [Name], it was a failure. The amnesiac never received damage— in fact, he noticed he reflected it, if that made sense. For example, Reiner tried to throw a punch, but [Name] always was a step ahead of him— he denied the hit by changing it’s direction with his wrist or his fist, not receiving the damage but evading it. It was the first time Reiner saw a technique like that.

Unfortunately for him, he got his ass kicked every round. [Name] didn’t seem to forget their promise about not giving chances, and even Reiner could say the lazy cadet was enjoying his defeat. [Name] didn’t even seemed to be tired after the many rounds they had, but maybe it was because Reiner was the one always getting his ass kicked.

 ______________

Armin watched in amazement, forgetting his own practice with Bertolt, "that's different when we were kids..."

The taller blinked, his eyes catching Reiner’s practice. The blond was face-planted on the ground, trying to get free from [Name]’s hold. "Uh? How so?"

The petite looks intently, choosing his words. "[Name] was... much harder before. But I guess that was because we were children and didn't know better," it was true— or maybe it was  because the victims of his attacks where Armin’s bullies, and [Name] hated them a lot, "even so, he doesn't look too much aggressive now."

"Harder...?" The taller can see [Name] is not holding back— or maybe Reiner is exaggerating? Nevertheless, [Name]’s technique looks clean and very defensive-like.

"Ah. He broke one's kid nose one time. Oh! and also, he made throw up another kid too and made him eat it.” Armin answered without trouble, not caring that much about how horrible that must have sounded.

Beetolt’s eyes widened, a little horrified by the brutality. [Name] didn’t look... as harsh as that. His past thoughts about imagining him as a kitten was now gone. He couldn’t properly imagine him in a scenario like that, but with Reiner easily being handled to the ground made him think it was possible. "Just... how much force did he have...?"

"A lot,” Armin chuckles a little, “Eren fought with him a lot and well... he can tell you how much it hurt, hehe..."

  ____________________

"W-Wait, [Name]! I surrender! I SURRENDER!"

"But this was just the beginning..." [Name] says with a pout, twisting Reiner's arm, "does it hurt?"

"Of course it does! I didn't think you would have this much force!”

"A kiss can make it better, if you want." He hugs the arm, rubbing his face on it while looking at Reiner with a twisted stare and a sick smile. The blonde can help but to gulp and blush by such hard look— he almost looked at him with playfulness. His eyes were so much different— Reiner felt he was looking at someone else. Now that he noticed, [Name]'s eyes had changed into a different color— but just as he was carefully looking at them [Name] blinked, as if he was waking from a daze. "Ah, sorry, Reiner," he lets go of the blond's arm, helping him stand with a much different manner.

”Did I hurt you?” [Name] asks, frowning as he passed a hand over his temples.

The blond blinks, trying to connect the dots of the unusual behavior. This was just like yesterday in the forest— that weird glint in his eyes... as if he wasn't [Name] no more. ”Uh, no, it’s fine.”

”Should I kiss it?”

Reiner laughs, trying to have fun, “now that I think about it... I think I got a bruise right here...” he points his cheek, and [Name] can see a scratch. Unbothered, [Name] pecks it, standing on his tiptoes. Reiner smirks, catching the glare both Jean and Eren gave in the distance.

The blond sees Annie passing with a bored look on her face trough the training grounds. [Name] waves at her with a ‘hi Annie’.

Reiner got an idea. “Annie! Good to see you again doing absolutely nothing!”

”Hmn? I see you want another round, Reiner.” Annie spoke with her cold voice, glaring at the taller as she got nearer.

”Not me! I heard [Name] saying he wanted to try you!” He places his hand on [Name]’s shoulders, making him closer to the girl as he hides behind him.

”...?” [Name] looks at him in confusion, knowing very well he didn’t say anything related to that.

”is that so?” The cold girl didn’t even waited for a confirmation— she just went straight to business. She had shifted in her fight stance.

Well, this didn’t sound so bad. [Name] blinked, hearing Reiner saying good luck as he left his side.

  F̸̛͔̰̕i̶̲͔̩̥͔̫̭̗̯̼̓́̒̿̓̊̿͗͘n̶̝̪̯̳̮̼̿̀̒͑̂̔̕͜ͅa̷̫͒́͑̌̈͘̕͝l̷̤̽̉̈́͗̽̄̔̍͘l̸̛͈̍̎͆̽̏͊̎̓̚͘͠y̸̢̼͙̜̠̬̘̘̟̲̮̫̟͍̏̇͋̔͂̀͐̏͆͒̐̊͐͝ ̶̛̳͓̩̱͒͊̉̊̉̿̾͆̾̍̌͝s̴̺̳̻͍̮͈̈́͘͜ȯ̷̧̠̹̝̩͍̹́m̵̢̯̱͍̬̰̘͕̝̆̽̾̓͑̔̕͝ě̶̖͔̘̙̙̾͐̕͜͝o̸̢͉̾̈̅̌̈́́́͋̏̓̿̂̂͗͠n̵̡̡̙̪͇̲͕̙̖̩̯͓̳̘̬̈̍̑̂e̷̡̛̼̹͚̼͕͉̪͆͂̊͊̆̈́̇̈̓̾̌͋̐̕ ̸̢͚̤͙̳͈̌̃̓̍̈́̏̀̏̀̎̋͗͜͝ͅc̶̢̺͚͚̗͔̤̓͂̾͊̒̀̈̐́å̴̡̢̲̫̥͙͕͎̫̯̬̰̱͚͛̊̊̎̔̃̔p̸̛̣̝͉̞̤̙̫̪͔̺͖̤̳̭̔͐̿̓͌͐̐̾̍̃̚ͅá̷̝͎̻̄b̸̛͉͉̼͖̰͊̚ḷ̵̨̮̹̝̈̑͑͗͐̑̚ě̶̡̨̨̙͍͉͇͎͚̞̗̹̀̅̋͂͊͜.̵̡̦͚̠͖́͋̊̇͛́̏͊͜

 [Name] shifted in his own, carefully looking at her. It somehow was clear to him she went all way in— her stance gave it away.

How come I know that?

The blonde girl moved first, lifting her leg to kick him. [Name] backed away quickly, missing the attack by inches. He doesn’t have to wait for the upcoming move— Annie throws a punch, [Name] deflects it with his wrist, switching the hit’s target. Seeing the opportunity, she quickly takes his elbow and harshly pushes the side of his face. [Name] knows her next move, and as just as he’s falling by the kick, he supports himself with his arm and gives a kick at the side of her ankles, making her almost trip. That’s enough time to allow him stand up again.

Annie returned to her stance, and just as in the beginning, tried to kick him— but this time [Name] saw it as an opening. This time he didn’t need to back off— he lowered his body just under her leg just in time, at the same time he threw a kick at the side of her knee. The attack had forced her to fall, by the surprise of everyone and her’s included. 

Watching her first was a good choice. That kick had to be timed right seeing Annie’s speed— one second less and his head would have been in a much worse state. [Name] couldn't explain his own reflexes and instincts guiding him— but it paid off nevertheless.

Something changed. Annie thoughts.

[Name]? throws the forgotten knife, stabbing it at the side of her head in the ground. There’s a cryptic glint on [Name]’s? eyes, along with a playful smile. He speaks in a different tone, clearly enjoying his victory. “You are dead.”

Annie gets up with a glare specially for him. Taking the knife, the cold girl tries to get her arms around his neck to make him fall, but [Name]? gets his arms under her to push her, effectively throwing her back. She doesn’t fall, but gets more aggressive in her attempts. She gives another quick kick, but [Name]? ducks and throws another kick against her leg, making her fall much harder onto the ground this time. He has a grin on his face, “twice.”

It’s clear Annie is irritated about his playful behavior— why is he smiling like that? Nevertheless about it, the blonde can actually say this was a nice fight for once. 

She sees how [Name] places a hand on his temples, rubbing them with his eyes tightly shut. Annie carefully looks at him as she stands up, dusting herself off. The amnesiac slowly opens his eyes, looking at her with much different eyes.

”Hope we can do it another time,” His voice is different, she notices. Narrowing her cold eyes, she can tell something is different about him— the near description she could tell was as if he became someone else entirely.

 She looks at [Name] then at Reiner, who was looking at the whole fight with careful eyes. She changes her gaze at [Name] again, shrugging her shoulders, “sure.”

Before she could leave tough, Annie turns to Reiner, ”Now, Reiner, I heard [Name] say you wanted another round.”

The blond instantly freezes in fright, not wanting to relieve that defeat. ”What?! That’s a lie!”

”[Name] doesn’t tell lies.”

Reiner was once again getting his ass kicked. [Name] couldn’t hold his laughter by seeing such absurd posture.

 ”What the hell is everyone doing?! Get back to training!” The instructor shouted, “change partners now that you are at it!”

 Neither of [Name] nor Jean took attention when they exchanged partners— just as they saw each other was when things got awkward.

”Hi, Jean,” [Name] was unsure on how to approach— he wasn’t good at fixing things. Even worse when he didn’t know what he  did wrong.

”...Hey,” Jean responded with a sigh, playing with the wooden knife. His face showed everything he was feeling— it was awkward, even more with the silence behind them.

Neither did anything else but evade seeing each other, but the amnesiac boy didn't want things to go like this. If he didn't know what he did wrong, then the only thing he could do was ask. Jean was angry for something he did— he realized that.

With a soft and curious tone, [name] looking at Jean a little timid, "did I do something wrong yesterday?"

He noticed Jean tightened his grip on the knife. Sighed exasperatedly, Jean still didn't look at him as he would wanted, but at least [name] got a motive of his anger. ”You can’t just... kiss everybody like nothing happens!”

So that was the problem? [Name]'s shyness went away when hearing such... motive. In fact, he was a little irritated by the reason. ”Why not?”

”Because—“ because what? It was wrong viewed? People would call him names? Would they think something else? Why was it wrong? He knew [Name] and him didn't had the same thoughts or opinions of things, but [name] should know kissing everybody wasn't something he should be doing. “Because a kiss means a lot to people— you can’t kiss everybody as a ‘friend’— that's not how it works.”

[Name] tilts his head. ”How come a kiss has one meaning?”

”Don’t get philosophical with me,” Jean said with a frown, “if you keep kissing everyone in public people will look at you being a weirdo, so don’t.”

”A weirdo...? But neither Reiner nor Eren tell me it’s weird...” He places his finger on his lips, wondering.

Sighing exasperated, Jean’s left eye twitched in annoyance by such statement, “because they are some dumbasses that—“ he stops himself there, “—they are weirdos, specially Eren.”

”How come?”

”He just is!”

“But Jean, no one has told me they don't like it. What do you mean?”

”That’s why I’m telling you before they do!” he rubs his temples, "they could be thinking for more, jeez!"

”Me kissing you makes you angry...?” [Name] unconsciously touched his lips, a frown showing.

Jean's confidence flatters, getting taken aback from the question. ”Yes— No— I mean—!” He sighed, “I don’t hate them. I...” he looks at the side,  blushing, “like them, okay?!” It's not that he hated them— he secretly loved them, but it was a thought nobody would know about. He could have [name] know, but since he didn't feel the same thing Jean felt for him, that was out of the question.

”Then why do you punch me away?”

“I told you– the others can see and look at us weird!”

”Do you care that much about what others think...?” [Name] wondered. He didn’t think about others opinions about him or what he did— he just... did everything he wanted without much thought. Was it wrong? Nothing had happened to him so far...

“It’s not that— ugh...” he sighs, “you are too careless. I’m telling you this right now: not everyone deserves to be kissed. You don’t know who is a weirdo. Imagine if someone took advantage of you by asking for more!"

”Advantage...”

”Exactly. You don’t know when somebody will ask you more than a kiss, and I cannot let that happen.”

“Is asking for more that bad?”

Jean blushed a little. Did [Name] really know nothing about this topic? Was he this clueless? Beatrice had to explain at least something about this— the woman should’ve, right? He was a teenager, for godsake! And teenagers are always thinking about the same stuff at least once in their short lives! Didn’t [Name] ever think about that type of stuff...?

"[Name], you know... when we talked about that..!"

"Oh, that. That when you talk about it your face goes red. That kind of conversation, that," [name] tilted his head, "...I don't think much about it."

"O-Okay! How else I should react anyways?! Ugh—! Just-- you know what to do when you don't want to do something like that, do you? If you mistake other's people purpose—!"

"I know. I punch them in the face-- but I only kiss people I like, Jean. Like you," he stared in gentleness at Jean, who only blurred words came out of his mouth, red creeping his face by the sudden declarations. But before he could answer, Shadis approached menacingly, shouting at them with a dead glare.”What the hell are you two doing?! You are standing there like idiots! Get back into training before I make you clean the entire place!”

”Y—Yes sir!”

_____________

Eren didn’t look pleased when he told him he was going to sit with Jean and Marco. The brunette gave away his displeasure with a frown, speaking with an irritated tone to him. To not make things worse, Armin, as being the sweetheart he was, smiled at him and told him to not worry about it that much. Just for that he won a kiss on the nose, making Eren yell why he didn’t receive one.

Already at Jean’s table, everything was going smoothly. But, for some strange reason, Jean spoke so loudly out of nowhere— It was an evident change to [Name]’s ears, making the boy narrow his eyes at him in suspicion.

”By manipulating your inertia like that, you’ll be able to spend less gas than usual,” he bragged to Marco, moving his hands while he talked.

”You make it sound easy...”

”Well, I don’t think that’s something everyone can do, you know?” [Name] notices Jean glances at Eren’s table, and it’s then that the boy can understand Jean’s purpose, “tough there’s nothing to lose if you keep that in mind. Especially if you want to enlist to the Military Police.”

Marco smiles dreamily, “it would be nice if I could... There’s no greater honor than to be able to work under the king, don’t you think so, [Name]?”

To [Name], the king was a faceless man he couldn’t care less about— unfortunately, Beatrice had told him to mind his mouth when talking about the powerful man around other people. The amnesiac boy couldn’t understand Marco’s dream to work under such a man who tried to cage all of them for eternity, but what he could understand from his books about royalty novels was that working and protecting a good king who cared about his people was a great honor. And this king had none.

”Not really.” He answered quietly, taking a sip from his drink.

”Don’t lie and say what you really think, Marco,” Jean said, carelessly pushing Marco’s cup against him, making it spill on Marco’s face and shirt, “you just want to enlist so you can live an easy and powerful life inside the inner walls.” He smiled devilish at him, and [Name] couldn’t stop thinking how crazy he could look sometimes.

”T-That’s not true! I—“ before Marco could finish, Eren’s voice interrupted Jean’s little show.

”It’s pleasant within the inner walls? Five years ago, this was also part of the inner area.”

While the two discussed whatever monologue they had in mind, the [hair color] haired turned to his freckled friend. “Be careful where you point at,” [Name] spoke to Jean in an angry tone, gently grabbing Marco’s chin as he cleaned his face with a napkin. The act made the freckled boy blush, “you got some on your clothes...”

”U–Uhm! Thank you, [Name]!” Marco stuttered, not expecting such caring action. Such caring made him felt warm in his chest, and gulped a little seeing how close [Name] was from his face. Were his eyes this pretty...? Marco! What are you thinking!

For some reason [Name] didn’t think much about what he did— he left a peck on Marco’s nose without care, “I saw the cup hit you pretty hard. Your nose is red.”

The freckled boy immediately covered his nose, clearly embarrassed by the unusual action, “I–It’s better now! Thank you!”

As the two smiled at each other, Eren’s yell took their attention from each other to him. The two had already stood up for a fight, evident by their angry expressions and hostile actions towards each other.

”You piece of garbage!”

”Just face reality!”

Both of them took each others’ shirt, and [Name] couldn’t stop himself to look disappointed at such behavior— he thought Eren grew up from such anger, but it did seem little had changed. Did we look that foolish back then? They certainly look like that...

For some reason Eren glanced his way, noticing such discouraging eyes staring at him in disappointment. That made his stomach revolt uncomfortably, not liking one a bit seeing that towards him.  He had to show [Name] he wasn’t the same brat as before— he was much matured since then. The brunette exhaled, trying to cool off as he let go of Jean’s shirt.

Of course, Jean noticed where his eyes wandered to— and he couldn’t feel more furious than before. What? Was he trying to show off he could control himself for [Name]? Fuck that. He was even more annoyed when he noticed [Name] blinking in surprise by such ‘control’, looking relieved. Jean didn’t fall for such act.

Taking Eren’s shirt even more harshly, he yelled at him, “don’t screw with me, you bastard!”

”Ah?! Hey, let go! You’ll tear my shirt, you dumbass!”

”Who gives a damn about your clothes! I’m so jealous!”

”What the hell are you talking about?!” It seemed Eren wanted to keep yelling at him, but he stopped himself from doing so. Instead, he quickly placed a hand on Jean’s face, took his fore arm and kicked the back of his legs.

[Name] frowned as he saw Jean fall onto the hard ground, but thankfully he didn’t seem to hurt his head that bad. Nevertheless, he wanted to make sure he was okay, but he wanted to give them the space of whatever they were doing. Eren seemed to make a point of his surprise attack, and so the amnesiac just observed in worry as he stood quickly.

He saw Jean sit, rubbing the back of his head. As he yelled for an explanation of such action, surely receiving a response from Eren.

[Name] was preoccupied of Jean’s state, but as Marco could see his worry he tried to calm him down with taking his hand, “[Name], I’m sure Jean is alright— it did seem like a bad fall, but I don’t think it’s too serious.” He smiled.

”It did sound pretty loud...” he frowned, squeezing Marco’s hand as he saw his friend. The freckled boy blushed a little by the action, smiling nervously at himself. “They are both idiots, uh?”

As [Name] wanted to see any damage, Marco yanked him to his seat, bumping into him a little as everyone saw the door open just a crack to see the scary face of Shadis looking at them with anger? It was hard to say, but it looked like a demon was staring at them in the depths of the dark.

”I heard a loud noise now. Care to explain what it was?” He spoke with a deep voice, staring deadly at everyone. Of course, nobody answered until Mikasa broke the silence,

“Sasha farted, sir.”

”UH?!” The unlucky girl widened her eyes in confusion and embarrassment.

”So it was you again,” the instructor covered his nose, “learn some modesty,” he spoke before leaving.

[name] couldn’t stop a chuckle from coming out. It was pretty quiet and soft— in fact, Marco was the only one who noticed it. His face reddened, staring at [Name] with timid eyes. It was the first time he had laughed like this, after all. [Name] was a serene individual, so any other reaction than his serious stare was well welcomed.

Marco didn’t notice he had his arm around [Name]’s waist, but it was when his friend wanted to move when he returned to reality. Feeling embarrassed even more, the freckled boy apologized many times and quickly moved his arm.

[name] blinked, not sure what was happening. Thankfully, Jean was returning to their table with annoyance plastered all over his face. [Name] stood up, now it was a good time to ask him how he was, “Where did you get hurt?”

”It’s nothing. That jackass all there trying to look cool, damn...” he rubbed the back of his head, “fucking embarrassing...”

The amnesiac boy could see his irritation— he could understand it. Being throw like that in front of everyone was upsetting, but Jean got out of control for some strange reason. Sighing, [Name] stood on his tip toes and kissed Jean’s head with caring, “that was a bad fall.”

The action only made Jean more embarrassed than he already was. ”Hnshsksjs! What did I told you about giving kisses like this?!” Jean whispered harshly, looking everywhere to see the smirks and mocking faces some did as they saw the curious interaction.  He blushed in embarrassment, “Goddammit [Name]—!”

Blinking, the amnesiac tilted his head and pouted, taking some steps backwards. ”Sorry, I forgot. Are you mad?”

Jean saw the wory fave [Name] was making, instantly changing his own anger to a simple frown. Was he being too harsh? The leqst he wanted to was to put distance between their friendship. He sighed exasperated, “no, I’m not. I’m not mad, okay?! So stop looking at me like that.” He rubbed his face, “anyways, are you sleeping with that suicidal maniac or what?”

”Suicidal...? Eren?” He blinks, amused by such nickname, “I don’t think so. Why?”

”B—Because—“ because I want to. He wanted to say, but no words came out. Jean gritted his teeth, rubbing his neck in shyness. Why he couldn’t ask him like a normal question?

Oh, of course. Because he was asking the person he likes— not just an ordinary person.

Fortunately [Name] understood the silence. “Do you want me to be with you?” He whispered gently, aware of Jean’s embarrassment towards his actions.

The taller didn’t see [Name] straight in the eye. His eyes stare at the wall, while he nodded slowly, flustered. If Eren was all mighty sleeping with him, then why the hell he couldn’t? I have the same RIGHT!!! 

“Then can we go now? I’m pretty tired,” [Name] yawned, passing a hand trough his face. Today was a good day— but it was still tiring. He just wanted to get to bed and sleep all day. “In fact, I’m leaving whether you want or not.” He stated, already walking away.

”W—Wait! You can bump into doors if you walk with your eyes closed!!” Marco yelled worriedly, already knowing [Name]’s sleepy behavior by now. 

“You are such a dummy,” Jean says, walking calmly while Marco hurries to help [Name].

“I can tell your fights with Eren will be for long.” [Name] places his arm under the side of his face, blinking lazily at Jean. The two boys laid on Jean's bed, looking at each other as they talked. The lights were already turned off, but many others still talked under the darkness. 

Jean grits his teeth. “It’s not my fault he’s such an idiot trying to act all brave and shit. He just tries so badly to be seen as cool, the fucking maniac.”

[Name] blinks. “Fucking.”

Jean blinks, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment by hearing his friend cursing, ”...why did you say it?”

”You said it. Fucking. Fuck. Shit. Cu—“

Hastily covering his mouth with his hand, Jean sighs exasperated, “don’t say all of them, geez! What are you trying to say?!”

[Name] chuckles, “you have a bad mouth. These words are not on many books I’ve read— oh, I forgot suck my co—“

He covers it again with more force this time, “shut the hell up!” Jean whispers angrily, “you are such an idiot when you want to!”

[Name] takes Jean’s hand, placing it on their dad as he interlaced their fingers. “Just showing you how childish you look.”

”I don’t care. I bet he was the one making you believe on that crazy dream he has.” In fact, hearing Eren’s ideals and dreams did made him realize he was the one at fault to make [Name] join the Survey Corps. There wasn’t anything else, since both of them had been together for quite some time. No wonder that blond boy and the pretty girl wanted to join with him. “Fucking hell. Doesn’t he know other people will believe his bullshit?”

”It’s not bullshit,” [Name] speaks, “if he dreams about it, it’s not impossible. You dream to join the Military Police, even when we are more than 100 soldiers here.”

”That’s different— I want to be in top ten, not to eliminate all titans. That will never happen— if that hasn’t happen before, after 100 years, what will he change when he graduates? Fucking nothing.” Jean couldn't believe [Name] actually had faith in such a fever dream— exterminate all titans? If the Survey Corps have been active for years and hadn't got a single clue of what titans were and where they came from, how would someone like Eren do the job? It was impossible.

[Name] sighs, not happy to hear such pessimism. He believed in Eren— things could be changed. He... just did. 

  I͛̄́ͣ͆ͨͫ͏̬̜͇!̱̪̯͖͚̒͒̆̔͊̎ͩ̚͘͠ ̮͍̹̪̻̝̤ͫͨͪ̓0̨̊̓ͬ̄̆ͨ҉͖̞̱̼̭͉̘ͅͅn̎ͩ͐ͣ̋҉̪͖̲͖̕x͋̌̑ͧ͢͏̳͕̘̣̰̠̞x͊ͧ͊҉̹͍̱ͅͅỹ̺̮̮̜͈͈̎̍ ͎̰͇̲̺ͧ͛̍̕͝/̺̩̻͍͕͗͛̊͑̂̍͟ö̡̠̭̻̪ͤ̆ͬͮ͐̏̓ͅu̜͇̻͖͕̹̦̤̽̊̉ͫ͞ ̩̊ͧ̓̾ͬ̄̅̚͞k̷̟̝̙̗͖͓̯ͫ͆͠n̨̮̞̪̗̣͒̿̃͘͡#̡̻̯̦̩̤̪̙͓̑ͪ͊!̦̖͚̖̖͖͙̹̱̽ͯ͛̕͢͝x̝̹̥̹̤̣̝̋̂̑̿͐ͪ̌ ̦͖̟̣̤͐͑̑̽̅̒ͤ̈̕x̮̱̣̞̳̖̟͆͂ͬ̊ͩͨ̅ͭx̸̺͈̩̲͇̞ͨ̄̓́͆̅̚͡x̶̫̜̘̥͇̱͕̘ͭͥ͂͊̌͊ͅx͔̲̽͋̓ͤ̿̽͊͟͡ ͔̬̲͚̉ͯ̃͗w̧̟̪͌ͮ͒͠͞i̸͓̰ͬ̔̾̐ͫ̀́͑l̵̲̗̘̯͙͈̀͒̽̈́͐̑ͭͮ͞ͅl̬͍̈́͌ͫ̆̏͝ ̦̳̥̼̹̹̎̄͌͢h̿̊̐̒͏̫̼͎͇͍ͅ!̩̼͙̮͙̠̹͒̔̐ͦ̅#̨̦̙̞̞̞̖̞ͪͤ̾ͧͫ̾ͭ̑p͍̞̼͈̖͎ͩ̿̉̃͂͜$̩ͧ͟͠x͇̜̫ͮ̔̇͝ņͥ҉͇̝̲̼̬̟͈ͅ.̭̱̔͗ͧ͟͠

 “And you joining after him... what the hell are you thinking?” Jean spoke more to himself than to [Name], frowning. Even after knowing for some time he would join the Survey Corps, Jean still couldn't grasp that absurd idea.

[Name] leaves a kiss on Jean’s cheek, staring at him when he breaks it, “you don’t have to worry that much.”

”Easy for you to say,” he sighs, “aren’t you... upset?”

He blinks. ”For what?”

”Thinking about when we graduate. I feel I’m the one only suffering here, you heartless dummy.” Jean grits his teeth.

He did felt sadness— not being with his friends anymore made him felt... a little scared. “...I get upset.”

Jean bits his lip, averting his gaze, looking like a pouting child. ”Doesn’t look like it.”

[Name] places his arms around Jean, while the taller guy instantly wraps his arms around [Name]’s form. The amnesiac boy rests his head on Jean’s chest, smelling him and hearing his heartbeat. Jean blushes, biting his lower lip. Secretly smelling [Name]’s hair, the boy closes his eyes while enjoying the sweet scent, calming himself a little.

“I get sad thinking about how we won’t see each other again after that. I care a lot about you, Jean. Times like these are to be treasured while we can, don't you think?"

Jean blushes, narrowing his eyes in sadness. He didn’t want to let go ever— he wanted this night to be forever. Why was [Name] this stubborn? Why he couldn’t go with him inside the walls? With him? He understood his reason to go to the Survey Corps, but he had to understand nothing good would come out of it. He should be to the Military Police with him.

”There’s still time to change your mind.”

”I can say the same to you.”

Jean sighs, “why are you this stubborn?”

[Name] can sense Jean is upset. He moves his head to look at Jean, who only stares at him curiously. The amnesiac boy closes the gate between them, placing a soft kiss on Jean’s lips. The taller boy really didn’t expect such action, as [Name] felt his grip around him tightening, hugging him closer as he reciprocate the gentle kiss. He didn’t want to finish it, but eventually they did. 

While Jean’s face was as red as a tomato, [Name]’s remained the same, but a small tint of red decorated his face. 

WhatthehellWhatthehellWhatthehellWhatthehell—

”Everything will turn out alright,” he spoke with a small smile, “let’s make a promise.”

[Name] showed his pinky, “no matter what happens, we will see each other."

Jean doesn't want to do that promise— if he does, then [Name] going somewhere he can't follow will become real. He doesn't want to. But then seeing that smile just for him... [Name] always kept his promises— they were serious stuff to him, specially pinky promises for some reason.

"If you do a pinky promise and you broke it, you had to swallow 1000 needles. I read that in a book!"

[Name] still had so much to learn, but everything he read he believed it. He could be such an idiot sometimes... Jean didn't want to stop seeing that smile, hearing whatever he wanted to explain to him about what he learned. Was that fate? Everyone going to their own paths was inevitable since the beginning, and Jean was fooled to believe he could change [Name]'s mind and go with him.

Reluctantly, Jean made the promise. Locking his pinky with [Name]'s, both of them confirming vowing. Jean knew that was such an embarrassing thing to do, but being under the darkness where everyone were in their own business made him able to do it. And also, if he didn't vow then the promise wouldn't be serious, and [Name] wouldn't like that one a bit.

Such a childish cute guy. And dumb.

[Name] smiled once more, hugging Jean closer. He murmured something Jean didn't hear, but he guessed he wanted to sleep finally. 

Jean hugs him closer, frowning. He grits his teeth, resting his cheek on [Name]’s head. What will I do when you are not there? What then?

Childhood sunrays

He was seven when he first met you. He was the little boy, who dressed prim and proper and had a fitting face, though sullen.

His father was an honest professor that taught the elite and propitious, those in the privileged life. He, ignoring the threats and pleas, never shied away from the reality of the world.

He would spend hours on the injustice to the poor, government reforms, and political ideas too ‘radical’ for the school.

He would always get permission to get into his lectures and he would be so memorized when the topic evolved into something so fundamentally different that you had to wonder about it until days later.

And that itself caused tension between his peers. Erwin knew it stemmed from fear and insecurity— he was a seven-year-old kid who was known to outshines his elder peers who were groomed to be the best of the best, so he understood very early on how pride lead you in a leash.

With bruised knees and a bleeding lip, Erwin was chased to the unsavoury and poorer parts of town, house projects run down with green moss growing on the sides and grass unevenly and overgrown. It had its discarded concrete sidewalks cracked and uneven from the time.

He knew his father was sick with worry. Frantic, possibly.

But he also only has known the white washed walls and red bricks of home where nothing ever changes in its constant loop. Knowledge is power, and curiosity is the driving compass.

Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, as the saying goes.

A chained dog ran in up front, started to bark frantically, mad, only the old chained fence acting as its last barrier. Erwin froze, terror locking his muscles and a tremor broke out, stuck in front of the water down house with no lights on.

Only for the dog to run away as an orange peel thrown into its way.

His saviour was swinging his feet against the chain fence, with ripped jean shorts and a t-shirt too big for you. You had orange peels in one hand and the other gripped to balance.

“Hey, are you sure you ain’t lost?” His childish voice, high and confident, brought and hooked you to the reality.

“I’m sure, thank you for your concern.” His shaken voice, still present, but netherless grateful. You frown, tilting your head if to better understand.

“I mean, you walked this way, like, three times.” You hold your fingers up ( a cheap bandage clinging on with God’s miracle ) as if to better understand, he held his gaze for a moment or two, breaking contact to look at his clothes, tender red knees and busted lip.

“Oh.”

You sigh, swinging down from the gate and arching your back, you look at him with a perplexing look, “Well then, c’mon we got a date to go to.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

Under the searing sun of the summer of ‘96, you led way through roads Erwin was a stranger to. You were patient with him, and you were keeping pace with him, and your grip was neither chafing nor bruising. But yours were messy hands.

Messy with the sticky feeling of oranges, and cheap crayola crayons, with a too big shirt and choppy, uneven hair that somehow suited you.

Every motion you created was an animated picture, and it made him want to follow your every move, a dance of two.

You are a tour guide in this turning world, like in the first meeting, you hold his hand as you walk and talk through he neighbourhood. Talks about Mrs. Jones— the old lunch lady with tattoos and a motorcycle she lets the kids play with, to old man Joe, the man lost it in the war and got a silver tooth, you say.

It’s all chaotic and wild, but you move through it all as if it’s as flexible and easy as water.

Erwin’s father breaks into wild sobs as soon as he saw his son being led back into the safety of their home. He was too close on calling the police when a boy holding his son’s hand asks for him.

You’re this split-second burst of color that suddenly erupted out of nowhere, and before he could even think, you were already gone. You always were.

Melting into everything, into his hindsight, into the deepest trenches of his memory. You were so abrupt, and blinding, and you made his chest feel weird and you had this presence that both terrified and confused him for some unknown reason.

Through his teenage years, he and you would grow closer. Flashes of memories snapped and froze to twinkle, from the time you and him snuck into a movie, to the time you were forced to get a hair cut and "ran away” to his house.

Childish naïve, as they played tag under the golden rays of the sun set, and counting the bugs underneath the rotting wood with the stars above them. You said that if you squint hard enough, they look like porcupines dancing with each other.

You, in his humble opinion, feels like running away, but not the real kind. More like how you saw it in childhood movies. Running to endless woods that hid magical adventures, running to hills filled with flowers and frogs and grasshoppers. Happy ignorant and not having to prepare but knowing the future of everlasting happiness and sunshine.

He wished he prepared more.

——

New York is a city too big for one, yet ironically too small for Erwin.

His works circle towards bringing down the corrupt, from CEO’s to the politicians and the rich and influential. He works here because its his duty and passion. (But his head is whispering haunting promises of city lights of a boy with ambition in his eyes.)

The percentage of even meeting you again, after all these years is mathematically impossible, how could he? When he left, he wonders, if you still think if him as his childhood friend or imagination of what he could have been.

His wishes ended up being manifested as a piss thrown bagel.

He was walking through the crowds, leaning thinner than other days when a half-eaten bagel lands on his shiny expensive leather shoe.

He grimace, Hange crackling in the background and Levi tsk with murmuring under his breath.

He looks up, scanning for the culprit, noises in New York are always blended but a voice sticks out from the rest. ( young and deep, a paradoxical dream, he knows this voice ) Arguments, insults and loud voices, he brings his attention to the couple in front of him, and—

The countless heads of ongoing bystanders, and yet. You. With the hair that catched the sun’s eye, and the wind’s kiss blows.

“Y/M!”

You, with caramel factories in your pockets, and rainbows stains on your fingertips, turn around and all breathing is sucked from the tunnel vision of you.

Your hair is longer, less wild and free, and your face contoured with more chiseled since your childhood days. But your freedom of expression is painted in your face.

Surprise, confusion, and realization.

“Erwin? Erwin Smith is that you?!” Your pitch rose as your entire being rose with it, your eyes widen and crinkled, blooming like the dandelions on spring.

“Oh lord, it’s really you!” You ran, skipping through the lady’s threshold, and Erwin already dropped his briefcase as he opened his arms as wide as he could to catch the wild storm of colors that you were.

You hit him with all your force, and from that force of reality that sucked all breath from him, he finally thought he knows what home really is. (He remembers, they were sprawled out on your couch, facing each other, smiling like idiots, mouths stretched so wide our cheeks ached with the strain. )

I often fantasize about how life would be like with you.

“My god! Jesus, I haven’t seen you, in what? Six, seven years? Look how much you grown!” You pull away just slightly, still entrapped in his arms, as you take a good close look at him for the first time.

And Erwin stares. Stares because in these streets that blur in the background, he can smell the orange soda that you drank under one gulp for a bet and the crackers that you hid away for the zombie apocalypse prep. And then he realises that he is staring.

“I— yes. We, I mean, I did grow. With, uh, food.”

You laugh, and your laughter feels like a dying sunrays directed at him. Like blooming flowers, and with his limited vocabulary he fumbled out the crooked, vague, feeling that waved through his teeth. When was the last time he was swooned by your laughter?

You move to speak, and he unconsciously lean forward as if seeking a place to rest, as a shriek of your name breaks through this haze of whatever overcame you two. You blink, your face realizing your situation, and your expression drops, like his stomach, unto one of uncomfort and annoyance.

You lean forward and in an entirely exaggerated expression, you crestfallen sigh, “Hear that, Erwin? It’s the devil calling my name.” A sharp tug, what else could if be? A sharp poke at his tender heart, do you hear that? A taunting voice, he’s preparing to leave again.

You lean back, tilting your face in the same way when he met you and smile such a sad smile. “It was nice seeing you again, Erwin. Don’t be a stranger yeah?”

His finger twitches, his lips parting in anticipation, but he closes in remorse.

“Yeah, let’s.”

But as you start to pull away, you move with just speed and color as you pull put a sharpie from your pocket. And he’s taken back to your phase of always carrying candy in your pockets, no matter the event or temperature.

“Here,” you hold your hand out, and Erwin isn’t even aware as he instantly drops his whole hand in yours.

The blank ink stings his eyes, as numbers shaped his hand. A smily face, wobbly and silly, is at the end.

Your face almost splits in half as you smile up at him, “Don’t forget to call me tonight, yeah?”

He nods silently, not trusting his words clearly, as you waved through the crowd back to the woman who started to hit you in the head. He takes a step forward, and you throw your head up and start to taunt her as you start to run away.

Reminds you of the time you used to throw orange peels at his peers. You turn around for a second and smile one last time and wave a goodbye, and just like his hindsight, you were a hurricane of color that picks him up and disappears immediately.

Even though his colleagues watched their interaction between a well-known blank mask to a complete stranger, he throws his head back and lets out a deep laugh from the credence of his chest. He could act all stoic but his heart doesn’t feel stoic enough to make him serene.

He pockets his hand and ignores the shouts of Hange, and the silent eyes of Levi that probe him for his unanswers questions.

His steps feel lighter.

——

I don’t know if i should, like a part 2, or a pov of the reader. I dunno. I’ll go and sleep.

Hey, how's life? I really like your works! They're very interesting and I'm always excited when you bless us with an update, ha. If you hadn't said in your bio that English isn't your first language, I would have thought you were a native. What's your first language? Have a good day and remember to drink some water!

Hiya! Well, right now my city is quarantined, and now I’m all day at home hehe. That’s a big part on why I’m updating weekly right now, but that’s just because I have insp rn ;_; ALSO that animal crossing has taken over my life rn u_u

Thank you very much! I’m always anxious with my writing, I know it has a lot of mistakes but I’m glad you like my works c:

My native language is spanish! I’m trying to expand my english more because it seems I always use the same sentence and words a lot jksadkajsd

Thank you again and have a good day too! Please take care and stay safe <3

ahh i dont really have anything specific to request, just wanted to know (and for other folks who come across ur blog) :,) hope to see more from u in the future 💖💖💖

thank you so much!!! ;0; i’m so happy!

have an amazing day/night! ;v;

e m p t y / 9

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

chapter nine  — new mornings

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They lived two years in Trost, but it took them one year to live on their own. Even with Lydia's protests —and Jean protested in secret, too—, Beatrice didn't want to be the burden she felt she was, and with her savings of the bread and pastries she did in the local bakery, it was enough for them to move to a house near the gates. Beatrice and [Name] couldn't stop thanking Lydia in opening the door of her home, taking them in as if they were family. [Name]'s mom had told him Lydia was a great friend in her past, before she moved to Shinganshina.

Even if the old memories of his past hometown tormented him in some way, along with his friends, he somehow enjoyed living in Trost. It was a nice place— Lydia was just as nice as Beatrice and Jean was a good friend. Before he knew it, their friendship went deeper and deeper, becoming really close. Jean always worried about [Name]'s headaches, every time trying to help in anything he could along with Lydia. The woman bought plenty of herbs with her own money to try and calm his migraines, and Beatrice nor [Name] could stop thanking her for it.

It become frequent how Jean couldn't stop himself and caress [Name]'s hair every headache— his eyes became softer when he frowned. It had become a reflex, somehow. [Name] didn’t mind— in fact, the teenager didn’t care at all about getting touchy. He liked taking Jean’s hand and play with it when they were bored sitting under a tree, or just lay his head on Jean’s legs to sleep.

At first it felt weird, but as Jean could feel butterflies in his stomach, he suspected what was happening. He got nervous when [Name] so normally and carelessly touched him like nothing, as if it was something anyone would do. Jean now believed Beatrice when she said [Name] was a social inept— all of what he was doing felt like they were lovers, and he didn’t even know it. Every time he did it, Jean blushed and averted looking at the boy, sometimes even evading touching him.

Jean knew very well what his feelings were but refused to believe it, it was obvious. Even his' and [Name]'s mom did. It was difficult to bear with it, even more when [Name] was oblivious about it. Why wasn't him more upfront? These couple years have made him more brutally honest than before, so why he couldn't confess to him? Was it fear? Maybe for rejection. Jean knew [Name] didn't know or wasn't interested in these topics— he had tried to question the boy before, but nothing came out of it. [Name] was uninterested, or maybe he have never felt something like that before, so he couldn't speak about it as if he knew.

__ __ __ __ __

“So [Name]...”

”Hmn?”

”Have you ever liked someone?”

”Liked...?” He looks to the sky, “well, yeah.”

”Really? Who?” He tried his best to sound uninterested about the topic.

”You,” Jean’s face blushed at that, but before he could get his hopes up [Name] followed with, “my friends from my hometown too... specially Armin.” And with that Jean went to the beginning, frowning with a twitch on his eye.

”not that type of liking! I mean If you have liked someone as in... love." He blushed, embarrassed by such thing to say.

“Like the books our moms read?” And he did sometimes too. Beatrice loved reading, specially romance novels. Armin and Beatrice had taught him reading books would be a good thing for learning about emotions, in some way. It could have sounded stupid— how someone didn't know what they feel? But [Name] didn't. He felt like a vessel still— these past experiences have helped a lot to grow his sentimental side, but there was more to know.

”Weird example, but yeah, like these cheesy stories.”

”hmn...” he had never thought about it— well, he liked Mr. Erwin a lot, but not as in love. “Don’t think so.” Maybe Beatrice? She says 'I love you' a lot to him, but he doesn't know if it's that particular form of love Jean is saying. "What about you?"

"W-Well— of course," he tried to sound 'cool' if that helped, "I've going out with some girls and—"

"That's not true. You are always with me." [Name] looks at him with a raised brow, obviously not believing his lie. Jean's facade faltered, but the teenager tried to change the attention to another topic.

"A-Anyways!" He laughed nervously, "have you ever kissed somebody?! BECAUSE I HAVE!"

"Kissed..." He blinked, deep in thought. [Name] didn't remember kissing anybody, but the sudden feeling of doing it is there. He touches his lips, wondering. "I don't think so."

Jean gulped, trying to play it off, "would you... like to try it?" He knew very well what he was doing— [Name] was unaware of these things, but it wasn't as if he was taking advances out of him, right? It was just... something for him to learn.

The amnesiac teenager blinks, staring at Jean. According to these books, a kiss meant something special, a sign of love. [Name] didn't know what love certainly was, so maybe trying kissing Jean would make something different? "Okay."

"O-Okay?! I-I mean—! A-Alright," Jean gulped, blushing. His heartbeat is erratic— he didn't actually believe [Name] agreed of something like this. Good thing they are in the forest near the walls— it would have been too embarrassing being looking at. Both of them kneeled in front of each other, [Name] looking at him with his head tilted. Jean averted his gaze, trying to calm himself.

He sighs, ready. Getting near [Name]'s face, his hands shake. The amnesiac teenagers gets near too, but Jean freezes. His eyes widen, not knowing what to do. Surprisingly, [Name] is the one who initiates the kiss— his hand supporting on the ground to get nearer Jean as he closes his eyes. It's clearly an inexperience kiss— but Jean's heart felt like it was going to explode. It's such a gentle and soft gesture, a curious action. Before he knows it, [Name] is pulling away with a humn. Jean is completely red, he is happy about what just happened, but he knows he can't get his hopes up with [Name], remembering how he usually is.

Nobody talks— [Name] tilts his head, touching his lips while Jean is still shocked by the kiss. What did [Name] feel? Did he like it? Did he realize something?

"S-So, what do you think?"

"I don't know."

"W-What?"

"It's... different, but I don't feel something else about it," Jean's heart crashes as he hears these words. He had a little bit of hope something would change, but it seems it didn't. "You?"

The taller teenager sighs, clenching his jaw. "Same." His excitement and happiness fade away as quickly as they appeared. Maybe this would be the first and last time he took advantage of [Name] like this— a kiss was something hurtful but wonderful at the same time. 'Love' surely hurt a lot.

__ __ __ __ __

Love was something unknown for him, and for now, he didn't look interested by it. Jean hoped sometime he would have taken a more liking to him after that kiss, but Jean knew that was unlikely. So he hided his feelings, in hope of someday he could show them when the time was right. But obviously he took advances of [Name]'s touchy behavior— when he laid his head on Jean's lap, he played with [Name]'s hair. Or sometimes when the other rested his head on his shoulder, Jean would rest his head on the other's, smelling his hair.

This situation was annoying.

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Beatrice lived in fear of hearing those words— living the day he would leave to chase his dream. She didn't want to appear sad in front of her boy, so his anguish and sadness were showed with Lydia. The woman tried to comfort Beatrice as best as she could— but both of them knew their boys would leave them soon.

But it was time, and Beatrice knew from the start it was going to come sooner nor later. She always hoped he could change his mind, but his mind was set the first time he heard about the military. But she couldn't stop him, could she? She couldn't stop her husband nor son, and look what happened.

"Mom..." He spoke, stopping eating. Hearing such tone made Beatrice's heart hurt— that was it, "I'm going to enlist to the military."

She didn't say a word for some minutes, worrying [Name] by it. Beatrice had never got silenced over anything, but he knew he touched a sensible spot. She relieved some memories about her husband and a son he didn't know anything about— they left, enlisted to the survey corps and as many expected, they died in combat. It was painful and difficult to accept such thing again, but Beatrice can't forever hold a bird who wants to be free.

"Is that what you really want?" She hold her tears and her voice from breaking, but [Name] saw trough the facade easily. It was the second time felt something like heartbreak, seeing her like this. He stood up from his seat and keeled besides her, hugging her waist and resting his head on her legs. She caressed his hair, not holding the tears anymore. [Name] shut his eyes, some tears slipping and wetting Beatrice's dress.

"Yes."

"I see."

They stayed like that for a long time.

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It was pretty difficult accepting he was going to leave. Surprisingly, Jean was going to enlist too, but he had told his mother he was going to join the Military Police, and not the Survey Corps like [Name].

When Jean knew where [Name] was going to join in the end, he almost had a heart attack. He couldn't believe something so idiotic, reckless. Was he insane? But, most importantly, didn't he care they were going to... separate if that happened? They wouldn't see each other again. Jean was mad, and even when he voiced his worries to his friend he didn't listen.

"But what are you thinking?! It's the survey corps!" He tried to reason.

"Yeah, I know it's the survey corps. That's why I will join them." He stated, not bothered by Jean's yelling. The taller boy only got railed up by such behavior— didn't he care?

"But you could die, do you know that?" He desperately tries to talk a sense to him, "many of them don't come back!"

"I know, Jean. But... that's what I have to do." [Name] knew he had to join them— after all, they found him outside these walls. His answer had to be out there, somewhere.

"What you have to do?" He snorted, "aren't you thinking about Beatrice?" About me?

"Jean, I will join the survey corps. It was decided since the beginning."

"You don't care about anyone, do you?!" Jean couldn't stop his anger— [Name] was cruel when he wanted, even if he didn't mind to. He sighs, passing his hand trough his hair exasperatedly, "whatever." He left without turning back, he was angry and felt betrayed. Jean knew if he stayed any longer he would say things he didn't mean and turn the situation worse,

[Name] frowned, clearly sad about how things turned out. His hand tried to reach Jean, who disappeared without even sparing a last glance at him. He felt something heavy on his chest, and the same static noise overcome his ears. He did something wrong— but this is what he wants, and he can't turn back from his decision. But why is he feeling so sad? Just as he lost Eren, Mikasa and Armin? Was it so important to Jean where he wanted to go? It was his life— not his'. Was he being cruel? Just thinking about begin mistaken caused another headache to appear.

  P̵̣̫̱̮̼̲͔̰͈͙̈́̈̎̏̈́͠ī̷̞̥͍̙̓̈́̊͘t̷̛͕̝̓͐̓̋̄͑̎͋̉̊̈́̚̚ĩ̶͚̲͙̞̮̺͓̟͖͙̯̊̽͜͝f̴̡̺̬̟̭͙͕̙͚̯̟̹̱̹̩͐̈́̄̈͂̈́̈́͊̎̾̊̓̒͘ȗ̸̝̜͔̍̎̚ͅl̸̛̥͈̘̆̽̎͊̊͂͑̎͜ͅ.̵̧̢̢̛̮̘̤̭̳͔̈͒͗͒̔̍̇̈́̂͝͝͠͝ͅ ̸̨̦͔͙̫̙͉̝̭̣̮̫̤̪̎́̈̊̂̈́̓̆̋͝͝ͅD̶̛͖̹̣̲̘̫̭͕͔̊͒̾̃͊̓̊̀͂͊̕͝͠ǒ̶̧̧̢͉̳͉͔̪̻̠̗̲̜̒̄̀͜ͅn̶̮̻̮͍͔͚̲̝̮̪̖͇̠͂͌̀͌͂'̷̢̨̥̖̟̘̟̖̗̪̜̌̈́̋̃ͅͅt̶͒͐͊̈́̄̐̉̓͋̽̊̓͜͠ ̸̼͉̘͚̈́͛l̵̨͕͓̂͗̓̾̑̈́͠͠ͅị̷̛̭̹̺̂̌̇̊̐̀̍̎̂̋̔͘͠ş̶͕͔͈͎̻͖̪̀̏͊̌ţ̶̢̜͔̪̱͍͈̞̭̯͎͑̐͌͊̾͜͝ȩ̴̛̥̺̄̿̀͐͑͒̓̈́̋̄͋n̸̨̠͐̔͋͗̿͒͐ ̸̠͇̻͕̗͎̇̂̌̐̒̈́̕͝͝t̶͔̤̮͆͊̃͝o̵̡̪̦̙̲͆̈̂̑͜ͅ ̶̼̙̤͆͌͠ą̶̛͍͚̦͇͓̥̯̟͑̿̐̇̈́̈́̔̌̊ͅn̴̢̩̺̪̂̒̆͛̄̇̂ŷ̴̢̡̢̛̳͕̹̝̲̖̻̇͗͒͐̓͗̒͌̚ͅǫ̴̮͈̤̖͆̈́͑̃͆̾̌̿̐́͋̊͠n̴̠̬̫̪͐̈͑̇͌̅̎̓̑ȇ̶̡͇́̆̈́.̷̢̣̩̖̫͖͕̊͌̓̍͛̈́̌̂̓͘

But he's my friend...

Jean stopped talking with [Name] after that. The amnesiac teenager never felt so much sadness before— after all, Jean was his close friend. Beatrice could only guess what happened between them, and she couldn't possibly blame Jean. Seeing how [Name] stayed in his room all day made her worried— the boy was always under his blankets, and when he came down to eat, he was wrapped around his blankets still. Even if he looked so adorable like that, Beatrice couldn't feel happy when his expression screamed absolute sadness. She knew the best was for the two to talk it out, but seeing Jean nor [Name] tried to fix this, she decided to do a small step— talk to Jean. She have talked to [Name], but the boy didn't even wanted to leave to room.

When Beatrice talked to Lydia, the woman had realized something was wrong the moment her son returned so angry. He had come straight to his room and closed the door with such force that it was heard everywhere in the house. But he didn't shut himself in his room too much, thankfully.

When Jean came downstairs and saw Beatrice, he frowned and clenched his jaw. The woman could see his distress and maybe embarrassment— maybe he thought she would lecture him or something.

"Hello Jean," Beatrice smiled, hearing a small 'hi' from the boy as he sat down with her, "I know you know why I'm here for, right? But don't worry, I'm not mad at you."

Jean didn't spoke, rather, he looked down as he crossed his arms.

"[Name] is sorry about what happened— it's not that he doesn't care, it's more that... he really wants to know what's outside. He cares a lot about you, you know? But you know how he is with his feelings."

The boy doesn't talk. Rather, he sighs heavily, trying to think. If [Name] was just a neighbor he barely knew, he couldn't care less, but he wasn't. It was his friend, the person he liked— his life. Why he couldn't just stay with him?

"It's stupid," Jean said, "joining the survey corps? Is he insane?"

She chuckled, "I know. But you can't trap a bird forever, Jean. It will eventually fly away when they see the opportunity— that's how [Name] is. He has his mind set, and he will not change any time soon, even if the world tells him otherwise."

"Aren't you... angry?" Jean asked, frowning. Was she okay with the fact [Name] was going to join the survey corps? And possibly die?

She smiled sadly, looking down, "Not angry... just sad," she looks at Jean, "you can't decide or force someone to decide what to do with their life, can you? Just look at it in reverse— if [Name] tried to reason with you to join the branch you don't want to be, would you? After your mind is set?"

He fell into silence. But it was different, right? The Military Police was safe. The Survey Corps wasn't— both of them could live together, even. Nevertheless, imagining [Name] bugging him to join together would only irritate him. Averting Beatrice's gaze, he crossed his arms in defeat,

"I can't make him, can I?"

"Not even me." She smiles, but not a happy one. It's empty, and Jean can see trough it, "oh, and also..." She laughs, "you should do something with these feelings of yours."

The teenager's face becomes red at hearing the call out— he frowns, trying to ignore his blush. "W-What feelings?! I'm mad at him! Not- Not in..."

"Love?" She chuckles, "just remember one day you two won't be together. Time doesn't wait, so be fast."

He groans, rubbing his neck. Beatrice claps, widening her eyes with a devilish grin.

"And also! Who knows who will take interest of him! My boy has become reaaaally handsome, Jean. I'll say act fast!"

"M-Miss Beatrice!"

"I'm just saying, dear!"

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The amnesiac boy was miserable. Jean didn't want to talk to him, and [Name] didn't insist after that. If he didn't want to talk, then that was fine. But [Name] couldn't stop feeling so... sad. If it was Eren who fought with, his younger self wouldn't have cared as much as he did now. Since when did he change? Well, maybe it wasn't if he changed or not— he liked Jean. He enjoyed being with him and he helped him with his headaches, and more importantly, his voice wasn't annoying. [Name] grunted, hiding his face under the blankets.

[Name] didn't answer when he heard a knock on his door— he didn’t even paid attention of who the footsteps belonged to. Not until the person spoke, recognizing Jean.

”[Name]? Are you there?”

Jean? [Name] turned at the door, still wrapped around his blankets. He blinked,

"[Name]...?"

The amnesiac boy quietly got up from his bed, slightly opening the door just a little gap, his tired eyes prying outside the room to see Jean. The other jumped in surprise by the squeak the door made, along with seeing the unusual dull eyes looking at him.

"Can I... come in?" He gulped as [Name] fully opened the door for him to enter, closing it after. The amnesiac boy sit down on his bed, still covered in blankets. Honestly, Jean thought he looked adorable like this— but that wasn't important right now!

There was silence. Surprisingly, [Name] was the one who spoke first.

"I don't want you to be mad at me..." He looked down, playing with his fingers. His plain expression was the same, but his tone of voice changed. It was like a hurting child.

Jean sighed heavily, rubbing his neck. He didn't like being mad with him either— but he was justified, wasn't he? Maybe not but... he didn't like the idea of joining the survey corps one a bit. He wouldn't, that wasn't for him at all.

"Me neither," He sat down besides [Name], who didn't look at him still. "It's just... I don't want you to... die."

"I won't." He looked at Jean with a different expression he couldn't pin point, "I promise."

"Yeah yeah..." He didn't believe it— but knew [Name] was strong. Even if he still didn't accept hat he wanted to do, maybe, just maybe he could change his decision in the future, right? "I'm not mad, okay?" He looked at him with a clear frown in his face. Jean wasn't happy, neither angry— just... sad about not getting his way this time.

Silently, [Name] wrapped him around his blankets too, sharing them. "Joining branches will take time, so let's enjoy our time together." The corner of his mouth slightly raised, taking Jean's hand. He blushed clearly— how couldn't he? "Let's lay down."

Obeying, the two boys laid together on the bed, looking at each other. Jean averted looking at [Name] with a blush, while the other looked thoughtful. Can he hear my heartbeat??? Fuckfuckfuck—

"I haven't told you the reason why I want to join." That gained Jean's interest, forgetting about his little problem, "but don't tell anyone, alright?"

Then, he explained his first memory, who and how they found him and how he met Beatrice. Seeing it like this Jean understood, but wasn't he scared after seeing the titans? He never understood how the titans didn't scare him off when they took over Shinganshina— he admired him in secret, but he wouldn't say that out loud. Even so, it interested him where [Name] was from— that was why his eyes were different from everyone's? But outside the walls... that was impossible. No one lived outside— only titans.

"So that's why you want to go..." He closed his eyes, blushing, "just because I stopped being mad doesn't mean I still like the idea, o-okay?!"

The sound provided from the amnesiac boy surprised him— [Name] was chuckling. It was the first time hearing him like this. After all, him reacting like this was something rare. "Okay," he answered as he closed his eyes, "let's sleep."

Jean looked at [Name], still blushing. He was so... handsome but pretty at the same time. He looked so peaceful and gentle like this. Jean would never ever in his life would say that he always watched the boy in secret when they shared the bed together when they were younger, along with many secrets and memories he will hold everyday. He didn't want him to go someday— the thought only made him angry. This wasn't fair.

"And also! Who knows who will take interest of him!"

Remembering Beatrice's words made him almost grunt, covering his face. He wouldn't allow that! ...Would he?

  B̵̡̨̹̰̝̙̱͎͖̙̙̯͖̬̿̿̀̀̎̊͌͝ḙ̵̡͓͕̙͙̳͚̬̠͐͐̓̌̉̒͘͝͝ì̸̧̟̝̟̥̠̺̦̫̯͈͗̌̈́̒͂͑͆̄̈́̀̓͜͠n̴̨̡̪̗̜̮͇̳̮̟̼̗͇͒̋̊ͅͅg̴̥͇̼̹̮̻̼̬͉̺̲̝͐͊̏͋͑͜ ̵̢̺͑̃̈́̈́̈́͆̅͂̚̚̚ẅ̶̻̲͕͚͖̕ͅį̶̯͓͆͌̕͜͝t̷̜͉͎̫̘̝̠̣̰̲͕̫͓́̎͂̎h̷̺̼͕͔̹̪̮̜͚̯͐̎̉̎͐̇̽͒̃͝ͅ ̴͔̲̻̺̙̉̀̅̃̿̊͒̋̎̓͆̚̚̚ơ̸͎̜̜̣͊̔̂͊̉̌́͆͆̑̓͗t̶̘͇̟̦̩̞̰͉̱̰̖̜̱͕̐̆͋̒̈́͆͋͝͠͠͝ͅh̴͚͐͊̊̌̇ͅͅȩ̸̳̤̪̖̹͈̥͔̩̠̥̅̄̔̅̈́͋̓̒̚͝͝r̸͖͙̖͓̆s̴̨͙͔̦͙̃͑̅̈́͒̏̇͆̈́̾͊͝ ̸͓̹̫͇̺̭͉̙͗͜ȏ̵̺̘̱̮̜̟̗ņ̴̛̳̖̮̝̒̈́͋̽̌̅͊͊̚͝͠͠͝ͅl̵͍̻̜̖͑̋̿̃̈́͝ͅy̷̢͎͉͙̖͔͍̜͉͓̩̣̼̅̏͘ ̸̨̧̳̱̆̽̉̐͝w̴̧͚̗͎͍̳̣͇̣͍͍̜̣̔̒̅ǐ̷̤̦̰̫̱̃͌̈ͅl̷̡͚̰͔̼̩̦͖̬̼͍͖͗̒̐͝l̶̡̙̳͖̘̤͋̑̈́̈́̅̓̈́́̄̃̋͠ ̶̬̻͉͉̞̞͙̝̺͖̂ͅc̷̢̣͙̝̞̻̬͔͙̕ǎ̶̡̘̝̥̳̪̮͔̫̒́̆̈̀̐̏̑̕͝͠u̸͓͛̈́̌̑̐̅̒̆̿͆̋s̷̗̙̙̩̰̮̤̤̼̥̪͓̝̰̎̍̒̿͆̏͆̓̍̚͝ͅe̸͖͈̺͓̪̽͌ ̴̛͖̲͓̟̳͍̤̍͌̅̔̒̽̍̽͘̚h̵̢̡͚̺̩̻̉͂̓ī̴͔͇̙̝̓̓̿̐͗̈́̒͝m̴̥̘̱̦͚̹̱̳̻͂̂͗̏̾͌̑̿̆̂̃̄́̅͜ ̸̢̨̢̛̼͎͈̫̲̗̬̺̞̞̅̍͑̈́̍̚ͅš̴̨̝̻͙̘͇̞̠͕̠͎̫̐̈́̌͘͠͝͠͠u̷͚̝̗̜͉͔̪̙̣̪͓̦̝̲͗̐́̿̈́͋́͠f̸̢͙͈̲̘̙͈̱̈̾͒̊̕f̶̧͖̬̻͖͙̥̫̆̾͆́͒̀́̽̀̇̇̾ͅḙ̷̢̡͍͕̟͉͓̮̲̰͕̙͓̋̂̆͠ŗ̷̛̬͓̼̲͍̻̰̥̜̙̺̓̂̇͑̆̄̕͘͝͝͠į̴̜̬̹̥̘͚̘͉̲͎̜̆̈́͑̓n̷̥̏g̷̻̳̯̞̬͚̘̯̿̿.̴̧̹͖̱͔̙͙̳̣̾̂̕ͅ

L̴͚̗̄̂͐̏͐̆̓̕ĕ̶̡̤̳̠̹̪̹̰͔͕̑̏͌̈́ͅt̵̢̳͓͈̃̏̈́͗͗̌̈̄̀̓̄̆ ̶̭̹̦͕̞͈̲̙̙̺̈́̓̋͌̒̎̂̅̀̚̕͝͠ͅţ̴̧̡̱̥̲̥̗̲̮͇̜̬̙̳̈̏̍̾͋̽̎̆̈́̋̎̐̕͝ẖ̸̡̛̳̙̞̪̫̫̮̺͇̳͇͔̞͌̾͑̍̒̚̚͘͝͝e̸̼͐̈͋̑̀̅͐͆̓̕͠ ̶̨͖̯͇͖͓͍͓̩̍̌͂̅̈́b̷̢͈́͂͒̂̍̂̈́̍̎̏̉͊͆͘ơ̷͈̼̝̩̰̭̥̻̩̿̿̒́͜y̶̭̽̈́̈́͊̈̆͠ ̵͙̜̻́̇̆̓̑̌͊̾̌͛̎̑́͠b̷̧̥͍͍̞̍̑ę̴̧̯̗̩̥̭̰͕̓̃́̍͂̄͋̓̐̄̌͛̃̕͜.̴̧̬̫͚͔̭̝͉́̓͌̑̂̉̈̊͠ ̸̨̡̨̛̬̳̺̪̪͇͐͛́̑̾̈́̽̓͗̒̈́̚͝͠ͅY̶̜̪̟̳͍͖̥̼̭͉̭̼͐́̂̓̑̎́̇̋̕͜͝ͅớ̷̠̮̬̲̒̍̎͑̑͐̕u̶̢̢̮̺͓̘͈̠̟̰̱̞̥̣̓ͅ ̶͉̠̲̣̖͊̍̾̀̅̋̏͜k̵͈͂̒̋̃̽͊̈́̽̈́͆͂n̸̛̜̠͉̳̤̥̟̘̟̬̻͕͇͆̍̊̑͋̈̾̄̉̀͊͘̚͜ͅo̸̡̮̗͇̺̦̺͚̱̠̞͓̭̓̐̕ͅŵ̸͙̉̉̈́̑̎̌̓͊̅̿̒͝ ̶̡̟͍͙̜̽̅͑͌̑͜͜͝͝w̸̡̩͈̩̹̤̙̝̒̑̾̂̌̎̚͠h̷̺̜̖̒̈́̓͝ă̶̜̥̖̘͔̹͐͐̓̈́̀̅̊̐̌̈̍̀͘͝t̵̗̥̲̚ ̷̨̩͗̍̈̈́́̈́͑̓̋̈̕͝ẉ̸̛̽͆̎͗̉͌̂̓̈́̃̿̋̍͜͝ĩ̴̛̛͍̺̣̲͍͋̀̀́͊̍͝͝l̷̛̠͚̰̊́̉̒̏͐̓̐͘̕̕l̸̬͍̤̠͓̠̬̃ ̷͍̥̭͉͉͍̞͔͎̯̺͎̑̾͌̾̈́h̶̨̢͖̯̫̮̭͑͜ẩ̷̰̩͙̰̲̳̹͗̊̑̈́̂͝͝p̴̡̡̛͇͎̮̟͍̥̯̂̔͜͠p̷̫̤̝̗̣͎̃͋̉͑́̋̈̎̾͌͝ͅẽ̶̼̠̳̙̬̉͒̾͂̄̂̽̍̍̐̈͠͝n̸͚̲̤̹̘̥̼̉̅͗̏̔͆̈̕͘̕ͅ ̴̨̛̛̟̦̬̺̫̣̯͓̜͖͎͆̍͑̄͗̑̊͘͝ļ̸̣̫̖̫̘̎̈́͋͌̿̽̊͑̚͠ả̷̩̣̮̫̐͊̽͊̃͠t̷̺̣̘͋e̶̙͓̯̜̭̗̥͉̫̎͛̆̀̓͊̚͜͜͝ͅr̴̩͔̗̔͛.̸̧̖̤̰̱̻͓̂͊

  [Name]'s whimpers took his attention. The amnesiac boy was frowning, and Jean knew exactly what was happening.

"Your head again?" He unconsciously placed his hand on [Name]'s forehead, worried. The touch somehow calmed him a little.

"I tried to remember— bad choice." He sighed, hiding his face onto Jean's chest, making the teenager blush completely again. He knew [Name] could hear his heartbeat— calm yourself! Clenching his jaw, he hugged the boy closer, looking at the side in shyness. He had to enjoyed while it lasted— soon they will be in the military, and doing things like this in front of everyone would be embarrassing, wouldn't be? He only wished time didn't go as fast.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

This was the day.

[Name] packed his stuff with the help of his mother, she doing most of the talking. She didn't want to cry, so the best she could so was to keep her mind occupied in talking and helping.

"You are such a handsome boy now, I can't believe it..." She sighed, "You are getting taller too..."

"Do you think so? Jean is still taller than me."

"He had grow up so much too... And to think it has been only two years." She laughed, "I can't wait to see how the military has shaped you."

They finish quickly, after all it isn't much. They leave the house, stopping at the entrance. There's silence— both of them see the path where everyone is going. After all, today was the day to enlist, and many teenagers were already leaving their homes. [Name] turns to see Beatrice, who is deep in thought.

She sighs, "you can come back if you can't take it, alright? No one will think less of you!" She takes him and kisses him all over, receiving a chuckle from [Name].

"Okay, mom."

"Don't forget to visit! I will sent you letters, okay? If I can I will sent you some cookies too!" She kisses him, "do your best, and make a lot of friends, please? When you come back in your free time, come with your friends! A lot of food will await you."

With a last hug and more kisses, [Name] leaves. When Beatrice can't see him anymore, tears fall from her face as she tries to hold her sobs. She wipes them, but the tears won't stop from falling. She's horribly sad and broken, but she knows this is the right choice for him. After all, he belongs somewhere else.

"Please come back safe..."

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

"There you are," Jean says, already waiting for him in their usual spot. They agreed to go together, as always, "thought you changed your mind."

[Name] let his tongue out, making Jean snort. "Never." They return on their walk, following the others teenagers to their new future.

I hope... they are there.

T̵̨̨̛̠̤͇̩̩͈̤̪͖̮̜̜̼̣̳̟̝̫͒͒͂̽͛̒͑̍̇̒͆̚͝h̶̩̜̳͔͍̱̳̺͍̲̩͔̥̠͍͚͈̑̃̐̾̇́̓͐͑̔̚͝e̶̫̭̬̩̰̝̬͎̰̿͋̓̒̅̉̉̎͗̕͜y̵̨̢̲͓͇͓͔͓͐̽̃͆̿̓̕͘ ̶̛̣̗̪̙͒̑̊͂̈́͒̏̔ẅ̷̢̧̨̛̬̗̮̳̣̙͉̟̫̣̬̮̲̲̬͔̑̓̒̉̾͠ḭ̵̬̲͉̱̲͕̱͕̞͉̯͎̯̘̤̙̠̻̽̽͋̀͑̓̂̍͆̉̽͐̍͑̋ͅl̸̢̡̧̬̟̞̻̩͈͓̙̙̻̺̲̭̤̦̼͉̖̩̻̩̣̓͗̐̊̓ͅļ̵̧̢̢͖̼̤̲̩̙̥̖̘̜̭̗̫̗̮͓͔̗̦̗͖̱̎̃̇̈́̊͋͑͌̓̀̐̀̏̔͋͋͋ͅ.̷͎̖̲̈́̋̑̈́̅̈́͆̈̓͛̾̐͊͋̐̓̌̈́̔͑̔̑̔̽

e m p t y / 15

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

chapter fifteen

found

It was an unfortunate turn of events. Things didn’t mean nor were visualized to go like this, but hey, life was a box full of surprises— some pleasant, some bitter. Unluckily, [Name]’s future seemed bitter in every aspect, and that didn’t seem to change any time soon.

”Where the hell should I go...?” The lost boy spoke to himself, sitting on the grass. His foot hurt, his side hurt, his head hurt— walking was a small problem, but the pain was bearable. His jacket helped a lot to not receive any scratches nor cuts, but his face and hands said otherwise. Messy hair, blood pouring from his nose, bruises and nails bleeding... the poor boy was left a mess.

He didn’t know where to go exactly. Reiner was the one with the map, so he was the one calling the shots. [Name] had briefly seen the map, but he didn’t pay much attention to it.

Big mistake, you idiot.

”Well, at least I’m not dead,” he yawned, carefully rubbing his eye. He had stayed in total silence for many minutes to at least hear a voice, but the only sounds he heard were the birds signing and the squirrels talking to each other, “...I wonder what they are talking about...”

There was no voices he could follow— he was truly lost in the forest. A very, very dangerous situation to be in by yourself.

Well, it wasn't as if there was another way to lose that thing. Reiner could be slow, and getting a bite from it wasn't going to be pretty. [name] tried to imagine his friends were fine, since they ran another way, but his mind didn't help him but wonder about them.

Lying on the grass, the amnesiac stared at the sky with lazy eyes. His chest moved up and down slowly, feeling a bit dreamy. 

He remembered those times with Eren, as they both sleep on the woods along with Armin and Mikasa. It was pretty weird— a sleepover on the woods. The principal activity was hearing Armin read his books, but specially his book about the outside. His energetic yet soft tone of voice made them wonder about the impossible; about what wasn’t seen by anyone here. Not even the soldiers who fought for humanity’s freedom.

Talks about where they wanted to go, what they wanted to do. Tangled wishes made by wondering children, all thanks for an old book nobody know who created— an unknown author that disappeared from the planet, leaving a wish behind for someone to fulfill.

The amnesiac boy was sure his answer was out there, where normal people couldn’t touch. Where people inside the box could not wonder; where people who refused to explore more than what was allowed choose to ignore the reason of such taboo.

[Name] was decided to explore that world. 

But first, a nap didn’t sound that bad.

♛

You feel fear— someone is chasing you. Not just one person, but there's many sounds behind you. There's yelling; someone is barking orders. Multiple footsteps— soldiers.

In the dark streets lighten by lanterns, two people run down the street.

Your companion is terrified— why are you running? What's the danger? Why do you feel so scared? Where are you?

You were too slow. They caught up with the two of you. A shame. 

You are cornered just like an animal. Perhaps we always were.

”We have finally found you— a ███...” the one in command spoke with a tired grin, satisfaction running all around his body as he saw every inch of terror on your faces, “you all have been hiding like those ███, aren’t you? A shame most of you die because of that ███...”

”P—Please, let us go! We didn’t do anything!” You tried to plead, but you know it's all for nothing. They are savages, after all.

”That’s true,” the man looked as of he was thinking, “but you are all the same. You share that dirty blood— sorry, nothing personal. Just following the King’s orders, you know?” a harsh chuckle left his mouth, mockingly looking at the two victims.

”Why are you doing this to us?! Please, I beg you, leave us alone! We’ll do anything!”

The soldier's aim falters, his expression showing a frown. ”...Anything?” He softly asked, tilting his head as he looked down at the couple. The ones being chased nodded erratically, a look of desperation and relief plastered on their faces. “...Then run.”

”...What?”

”Run away from me. I’m giving you the chance,”

A soldier's confusion makes him speak out loud. ”Sir?”

”Did I allow you to talk, soldier?” He glared at the poor soldier who only shut his mouth in return. The sergeant looked again at the poor horrified pair, “you heard me. You can run for your lives, but don’t look back because I will kill you.”

The leader stares with an unknown look, but you don't hesitate. Already running with your partner while holding hands, you hope to get out of there— were they don't exist. Where you can live freely. Where there are no dreams shattered. Where there are no children fighting battles they don’t own.

The two of you almost make it out of there; your partner grips your hand. Hopelessly staring ahead, you almost smile.

Just before the pair sighed in relief, two shots echoed trough the silence of that night.

Footsteps approaching— the unmistakable sound of military boots stepping on the dirty ground.

The sergeant in charge stared at the two bodies laying on the floor uncomfortably. One pair of eyes remained closed, while the other widened as it looked at it's partner. They didn’t know what just happen— or perhaps they didn’t even realize. Maybe that was a gift.

An expression of complete disgust appeared on his face, utterly repulsed by such view, “such a waste of ammo,” looking behind, he immediately barked orders, “soldier ███ and soldier ███! Get these things and throw them away. You,” he pointed another soldier, “will clean this shit.”

With a last look, the captain whispered. ”You should have looked back, filthy ███.”

。。。。。。。。。。。。。

“This ███.. are you sure he can have it?”

”Do you have another child around? This kid is the only one left— Keno’s child fell into illness, and we all know she’s not going to make it.”

”But... he’s going to be so alone...”

”We have no choice. All of us are going to ███ eventually. Hopefully he can find his way back...” the man sighs, “if he’s lucky, he can find us. But... I don’t have much hope.”

”Oh, my poor child... please, find your way home...” someone kiss your temples with gentleness, “I will pray for your safety.”

”Praying will solve nothing. What good have that brought us?”

。。。。。。。。。。

In front of you is the sea.

You are not alone— there’s a woman besides you, but the ocean waves are the single thing you can hear until she speaks in a gentle tone. You know that voice, but you don't know who belongs to.

”You know, little boy, there are many things you will discover trough your life. You have to live it fully until you can— people like us can’t live longer than what we like to.”

”Why?” You hear yourself asking— a younger voice of a little boy.

”Because we are the ███ . Easy as that.”

”But mom wasn’t like them...”

”And perhaps you could live longer. Who knows? What we need to know is that you will walk forward until the end, with your head high and with no remorse. You are strong— make your future and travel trough these waves. The world is much more than a simple caged island full of fools.”

She gazes at the sea, a grim expression shown on her face. “But a peaceful future is not what we can get. That boy... it has been said he would only bring misfortune. The elders said your only goal is to ███ him,” she frowns, “that’s something I don’t want you to be. Why do we have to be in that position..?”

”███? I don’t get it...”

”Well, it’s not as if we aren’t named the cursed, after all...” she sighs, “you will understand soon enough. Our only goal as the ███ bloodline.”

The woman sits on the sand, signaling you to do so. Obeying, you can’t help yourself to grab the sand and play with it. You only hear a chuckle coming from the woman, amused by the show.

”Pay attention, okay?” She says in a firm tone, showing him a small brown book, ”this book is important— don’t lose it. Inside there is everything I told you about, and much more. Be careful with it and handle it with care... drec femm pa dra mycd desa E fuimt cyo ed.”

。。。。。。。。。。

“Goodnight, ███.”

-

”███ is going to attack someday— that’s all we know. Hopefully, the others ███ can do something before that.”

”You are speaking as if you have faith in this kid. That’s dangerous— you won’t even be there when he wakes up.”

”Oh, ███! Stop the negativity! I believe in my ███. He’s strong— if something even happens, he will find his way trough.”

-

”I didn’t mean to make things go this way. Forgive me.”

-

Fa ymm yna kuhhy tea! Zicd palyica fa luimth'd cdub y cehkma eteud! Dra Nispmehk... ed fyc ehhajedypma.

-

”That stupid kid! Why did he had to exist?! If only he didn’t, everything would have been better! Shit!”

”How can you say that, ███?! He’s the key to all of our freedom!”

”Cut that shit! Can’t you see?! The Elders even said that! The world is going to suffer the rage of a ███! Just because he has The ███! Fucking shit! Your kid is not even standing a chance against that— it’s just useless. All of this,”

”He’s going to do the right thing. I know him— he’s my boy.”

”What even is the right thing, ███? This world is going to see the true devil once for all… just because they couldn’t do their job properly. For a nation, ███ is truly useless.”

-

”You are the connection. You will do the right thing and free us. You are the future. ███ counts on you.”

-

”Kill him— you have to.”

-

”Why did you have to join the Survey Corps? You will get killed!”

-

”I love you, ███. Please forgive me.”

-

”Did you know the sea is soooo big?! Even bigger than these walls!!”

-

”I know you have to kill me. But even if I love you, I won’t let you.”

-

”The sea. We’ll go together.”

-

”–ced. With this letter I hope we can unite for a new and greater future. Sincerely, ███ lineage.”

-

"We are the ███'s shield, as they are his sword."

-

"They are chasing us! Son of a bitch! After the hell they put us through we are disposed like this?!"

"Making us forget...? But we swear to protect... why do we have to disappear? Why is that our fault?"

"There's nothing else to do, then. Let's get out of here."

-

”I told you I wasn’t crying!!!”

-

”We are just a creation born from ignorance. Born from hunger for more power and control. Why are we even fighting for them?”

-

”We’ll find each other. Even when 10 years go by, I will always think of you.”

-

"I heard your whistle. You saved me, again."

-

"I promise you I'll protect you!"

"With that loud voice? I don't think so."

-

"I... I can't. I love you."

-

”Goodnight, ███. I’ll see you later.”

♛

…

…Well, sometimes naps didn’t do the trick.

The unlucky boy slowly opened his eyes, feeling even more tired than before. He forgot his dreams were mentally draining— even when he didn't remember much about them. 

Frowning, [name] glares at the sky in irritation. He feels useless; unusable. Forgetting those feelings were closed inside his heart, whenever he was alone they surfaced to torment his thoughts. This wasn't what he wanted to feel. It wasn't nice, nor made him feel better. It was a never-ending misery he didn't want to take part of.

”...I’m thirsty,” sighing in defeat, [Name] sat down. He played with the grass, feeling sweaty. Taking off the jacket was an urgent need, but the stinging pain on his left arm stopped him. “...and full of pain,”

[Name] wasn’t good with directions, even less inside a forest with his aching body causing his mind to not work properly. But he believed his hearing would come in handy— if there was something at all around this forest. Unfortunately, he could already hear there was more raining coming.

Standing on his feet with an exasperated sigh, the lost boy began his exploration. Sucking up the pain and bruises, he only hoped to find someone or at least the way out. The sun was still up luckily, but it would soon hide because of the rain— the clouds were already grouping up. The fear of being alone with a monster roaming around already crawled on his mind. This was scary.

He felt useless. u̵̬͉͐̌̌̍̈́͆̓̌̐̀̆ś̵̳̯̯͕̯̟̦͖̬̠̪̦̲͔͇̔e̵̢̧͉͔͚̯͈̠͇͖͑̇̎l̷̪̣̘̘̪͇͔̥͎̩̆́̇̑̊̈́́̉͜e̴͖͗̍̽̿̕s̵͚̟̜̯̯͉̼̦͛͊̎͆̆͌̑̊͑̈̈́́͘͠s̵̨͎͎̜̗̉̐̇u̶̟̜̹͎̯͇͌̐̇̈́̐̎̿̌̕͜ŝ̶͓͍̠͖̞͍̰͚̩̜͆͐͑̈́̀e̶͖̹͎̦̭̦͕̰͎͚͍̓̇̈́̏͂͑̿͊̈͐̚͝ͅl̴̡̻̽e̴̛̪̙̙͓̽̈̏̅͝ͅs̶̞̲̣̘͐̊s̵͉̜̗͕͍̰̬̦̻̰͖̈́̎̐̽͆́̈́u̷̝̠̙̐̂͗̈́͌̒͘̚͜s̴̖̹̪̮͙̣̓̎͝͝ê̵̛̺̥̭̊̅͌͗̂͗̃͘͘͝l̶̫͇͎̍̍̊̑̃͊͛͘e̵̡̪̼̯̬̣̫̞̥̾̉̓͘ͅś̵͔̤̣̦̺̰̀̔̂̓̉̈̍͠͝ś̸̛̘̈̂̌̋̀̂͘͝ů̷̢̢̯͎͉̬̥̱͖̮̯͉̦̱̍̊̂͐̅̌͑̅̎̕̕͜͝͠s̶̢̢̙̲̰͍͇͎̙͓̲͈̑̃̆̽̑͆̔̄͐̈̎̌̚͜͠͠ȩ̴͇̤̼͍̯͈̤͉̬̣̿̈́̐l̵̢̡̛͓̜͈̦͈̭̎̍͂̂̉̑̏̕͘̕͠ͅȩ̵̢̖̳̠͓̼̠̮͚͍͔͇̰̋͆̃͆̏͐͜ṡ̷̛͔̺̑̓̋͘̚͝ṧ̵͓̪̮̱͕̭͖̲̺̈́̈́̽̾̐̚͘̚͠ͅu̵̧̢̻̔ͅs̸̫͈̘̺̺͖̫̭̜̭̟̖̿ę̵̞̱͚͚͈̱̟͖͔̣̻͋͌̽͛̓̈́̑̒ͅĺ̴͔̼̥̗̥͕̠̋̍̒͋̕͜e̶̡̟̝̪̰̥̤͖̪͚̼̤͐̃̍̒̆͒̋̑͘͝s̵̯̤̠̤̍̈̾͌̋͐̎͑̓͒̂̈́̀͠s̵̡̛̫͉̻̬̆́͐̏̄̾̈́̈͘͝͠ų̷̘͍͆̌͛͝͠s̵̡̡̻̟̺̙̹͓̲̦̦̰̮͇͒̈́̆̂̐̒̒̕̕͝͠͠ẻ̸͍̩̫̩͍̝͚̐̉̍̂̈́̉̓̃͋̀͊̀̈́͝l̶̢̛̥͈̤͓͖̤̩̤̞̟͌̈́̽͑̈́̆̏̓̑͐͊̓̕ͅę̷͔̬̭̮̾̋̔̅̋̋̄̀s̵̛̟͉̫͆̃̽̓̐͂͗̑̚s̷̹̱̞̳̫̖̲̓̓̒͒̒̆̐̇̋̚͜—

"Everything is going to be alright. I have always believed in you, so please be strong."

[name] didn't like loneliness. He loved his friends; their moments together is what made him, him. If not for the people around him— if not for Beatrice, he would have been a nobody. Someone who wasn't meant to exist-- a mere ghost with no purpose. But, even in his present, he sometimes felt like a ghost— as if he was someone faceless. Even if he remembered his name, he wasn't sure anymore about it— perhaps he confused his memories.

Perhaps they weren't his, anyway.

Perhaps he was nobody, really. 

w̶̰̦͈͍͚͉͛͋͌̌͒̑̽̀͛h̴̡̜͚̩̼̙̺͕̮̼͓̹̩͍̄͋̈́͗̀̅̅̾͐̇̾̄͘͝o̵̡̡̰̻̲̞̤͍̣̙͔͎͚̙͋͂͌̾͘ ̴̤̱̓̓̎̓̂̒̄͐͋̾̏̈́̀̔̕a̴̢̡̝̞̗̰̞̓̉̂̇̿̊͊́͛̏̑ͅŗ̶͔̟͚͇̾̽̈̉̀̓̽̓e̶̛̦̊͒ ̷͚̻̭̠̳̻͕̝̎̀̏͜͜ͅy̸̧̧̨̭̥̰̝̼̺̠̺̳͚̥̽͐̓̌͛o̵͇̯͋̊̓͆͝ų̷̳̫̣͓̦͖̳̣̣͈̻̬͚̂̇̈́̒̍̆̇͌̐̄̉̄̅̑̚?̴̡̙͇͔̪̬̟̖̘͍̭͐̾̔̀͐͗̑̑̾̋͌̂͘͝

"Its okay to feel fear. I have been scared many times!"

"Stupid kid. Be careful!"

As he wondered inside wonderland, the footsteps behind him weren't noticed at first. In fact, a deep haunting growl was the major factor that took his attention.

"Uh...?"

He looked behind him, connecting stares with a red intense eye. [Name] was sure the thing was looking for him all this time— he was a fool for believing otherwise.

I should have know better.

”̶̛̣̫͚̱͚̦̬̜̍̆̾̏͗̂͂̅̍̎͐͑Y̴̛̙͚͙̾̍̉̽ȅ̴̢̟̯̭̫͖̪͔̺̞̝̭͍̬́̓͐͂͊̈́̔͑̃ͅş̵͕̫̯̖͇̭̘͎̻̪̘̍̑̿͂̄̇̊̿̚͝,̴̡̝̠̭̈́̔̐̐͂̇̈̌͂̒͌́̋̀͝͝ ̶̧̡̩͇̞̲̙͍̰̞̤̩͕͍͇͆͂͌͋̉͋́̓͝͝y̸̨̨̼̬̦̣͈̠̜̣͙̣͙̜̞̾ô̸̰̞͎̞̝̠̣͙͕̲͇̗͓̗͑̌̎̔͘ͅu̶̘͓͙̺̻̹͌͋̂͌̀͝ͅ ̷̡̝̘̪̝̦̥̤̓́͋̽̑̀͆̈́̊̐̕͝s̶̢͖͓̗̤̻̖͇̟̗͇͙̀̍̑͌̓̅́͐h̸̤̬̳̱̩̀̀̊͛̉͗̐̓̈̉̋̈́͝͠o̸̞̔̆̾ṷ̷̧̪̙͍̱͎͎̩̘̺̪̏͜͜l̷̢̪͆̄ď̸̢͚͖͇̲̮̕’̵̨̢͕͉͔̩̥̜̰̜̠̞̝͍̺̒̓̆̆͠v̶̢̯̻̱͔͎̹̙̙̓͛͛̈̍̆̅̏̎̓̽͋͜ͅé̷̙̯͍͚̈́̈́͘.̵̢̹̭̺̳̘̖̫̬͆͐́̏̓̾”̶͕̳̀

“I’m so fucked.”

“̶͉͍̩̥̮̈́̅̏̽́͒͜͠I̴̢̓́’̶̛͚̫̲͚̈̀͛̆̽̿̃̔ͅm̶̨̙̮̘̺̩̹͎͖̪͛̽͒̍̓̔̌́̈́͘ ̵̢̨͚̮̰͖͈̾̄͆̕͜ǹ̵̨̛̝̺̩͚̀̈́̂̌͛͊̏o̶̮̯̺͕̠̍̃̒̐̂̓̃͆̒̌ͅt̷̨̛͚̤͔͍̻͕̑͗͌͊ ̵̼͓̦̄͝ͅh̵̨͒̎ẻ̵̢̨͍̙̼̪͎̱̝̇̈́͝l̵͚̘̀̿͑͋͗̊̚p̷̧̮̎̄͘i̸͖̭̤̩̦͉̐̍̽̋̿̿ṋ̵̯̩̣̺̰́̀̉̓̇̀̀̓̽g̴̞͔͎͍͇̎͌̄̍̈́̓̃͠ ̷͉͕̦̊͜h̸͇̼͇͛͊i̶͓̹̞̾̾̏̐͊̒͋̂͛m̶̯͈̘̣̰̖̌ ̶̩̈́͐̃̈́͌ť̶͉h̷̡̖̱̬̩̫͛̂͂̈́͜͝i̵͍̭̫̾̚s̶̢̱̼̱̭͉̆ ̴̤͉͑͐͗̈̉͊̎̚t̷͍̥̻̗̳̲͕̝̦̽̌͒̍͑͝ḭ̸̛͊̔͗̿̓̿̈́m̴͙͇̮͕̣̹̠̅̋̏̇͋̚e̵̖͙͖̊̐̄̃,̸̧͉̭̼͉̖̳̻̲̓̍͘ ̴̛͚̊͠ͅẘ̷̧̝̭̦̯̞̬̇̈͗͑͠ơ̸̼̯̮̻̣͓̫̖͊̈́̃̏̕m̴̢̘̠̞̘̀a̸̢̟̝̝̰͔͇̞̹̓̅͜ñ̸͕͓͔͚̮ͅ.̴̙͈̬̰͚̗͈̺̇̋͜͜”̷̦̯͍͎̪̙̀̾͊

”̶͇̟̦̐̋̓̆̏͑Y̷̨̩̘̹͋ǫ̶̛̘̻̟͙͈̿͛́͒͋̈́̓̍̈́ǔ̸̮͖̱̖ ̷̭̦͙͚̥̘̎̾͒́͂͂̆̕͜ͅc̵̞̤̓̃̿͠ä̴͕́̑͆̓̾̿͗̕ṅ̵̘̪͙̍̍̌̏̉̉ ̷̯̮̖̥̮̣̲̰̆͒͜b̴̨̈ẽ̸̥͚̲̝̈́̄̐̌͑̊̌ ̵̞̄͗̐͒̕s̵̢̤̼̼̮̟̘̐̆̿̾̓̌ͅo̴͓͂͋ ̴̛̝̰̮͍̖̃̂̽͗̈́͌̇́͜ͅc̴̢̱̞̘̔͐͒͆͑̆̿͐̏r̸̛̫̗͇͈̺͇͎̩̗͒̀͘u̴̬̽͗͝e̸̡̩̯͇̩̜̍̑ĺ̴̛̼̦͔͚̲̗̱̣̥̌̇̋͋͘͝ ̷̨͚͎̾̅̓͘w̴͔͂͊̋̆̍̈́̇̅̐h̴̞̲̖̰̝͈̄͆̊̃̓͜͜͝e̴͍͓͓̞͑n̵̞͑ ̷̧͖͌͐̆̀̍́̓͂̂̾ͅy̵̼̥̜̓͒͐̀͊̚̚ơ̶̘͖͕͈̗̠̪͖̰͒̈̐̓͂̀͋̚͝u̵̧͎̪̳̯̖̟̭̪̓̈́̋̋ ̶̡͍̝̜͖͕̲͉̜͈͐w̸̱̱̹͋̉̉̋̆͛̌̏̑ą̶̧̗̜̱̼͇̮̳͍̏͠n̸͕̰̬̊̽ͅͅt̷̼̮̬̙͈̃̂̽͋̈́̔̄͐̚,̴̗̻̏ ̸͎̹͒̿̚̚█̵̢̝̱̣̝̜̣̰̟̈̓͜█̵̧̢̧̤͍̘̞̜̀̽̾́̉̍͆͘͠█̸̤̓.̴͙͈̠̹̼͓̽̀̓̃̀͐́͌͜͠ͅ”̶̮̻̹͕̮̮̈́͌̒

“̵̥̔̋͂͂̈͌̃̕̕̚͜Ḣ̸̦̣͆͗̽͠e̶͓̥̼̖̦̻̙̭̎̈͑͒̈́͝’̴͍͇̈́̋̍̓̾̌̒̕͘s̴̞͓̘̭̝̱̑̍̕͜ ̴̦̲̥̜͍̏́̈́̽̿͜ġ̷͔͕̭̦̩͙̮͎̫͌ͅo̷̬͕̼̾͒̾̇̍͆͌͊̇ͅi̷̛̛̹̔͐̏͗͆̽͛n̸̤̙̟͛̐̐͊̏g̵̣͈̳̩̹͒̉̂͊̕͝ ̸̧͕̖͔̬̊͗̀̽͋ṭ̴̛̛͕̮̮̳̗͊̈́͐̃̂̏̉o̶̻̫̐͒͋̀͂͒̏͌̇ ̶̝̥̭̗̫͙̓̈͝b̴̳͔̔̄̐̉̅̈́̕ë̴̡̥̰͓́̄͠ ̸̢͆̈́d̴͕͖͙͕͎̘̻̥͖̃͆̏ͅe̴̯̦̥̎͝a̷͈̗̠̩͙͕̿ͅl̶͖̤̦̣͔̥̖̖̻̍̑̃̆̐̚i̶̡̝̥̪̼̥̟̣͋n̶̘͉͓̻̥͋͑͗͋ģ̷̘̙͙̰̺̫̪͔̒͐́͌̾̆̑̀̈̚ͅ ̶̬̙͈̱̝̤̥͉͒̽̊́̎̀̅̕s̷̺̠̦̜̺͊̒̏͛̔̾͊̾̈́͝o̷̻̼͓͇̓̀̀͗̾͊̚͝m̷̡̦̟̬̭͕͚͒́̓͠ͅe̶̤͈̘̊̌͑̃͑͠t̶̢͖͉̤̩͓̻̒͐̎̋̉͜͝h̵̢͈̦͇̝̠̲̭̙̒̾͝i̵͓̜̖͓̔n̴̡̻͍̻͖̫̍̒̂͗ͅg̴̡̲͖̼̫̺͔̋̀͗́ͅ ̵̹͙͎̞̣̦̟̘͊͋̚̕b̵̡̨̬̰̦̆́̾̇̏̕͘͜i̵̛̲͚̋̅̔̀̋̆͘g̸̢̧̛̖̤̗̻͈̋́͗̒̇̅͋̎͝g̴̠̟̗͉̙̣̝̹͍̅̈́̀̄e̷̛̫̙͙̗͕͓̺̓̔͜r̸͈̮̤̻̫̠̋͗̍͗̕ ̶̬̓͋̽̽͋͊͗͠b̴̨̢̪̻̘̻̱̖̲̅́͛̊̂̏̾͜͝ý̸̰͓͇̇̋ ̵̞͋͘͝h̶̦̲̦͍̬̮͈͖̓͐̌͆̕ͅi̵̢̛͚͚̟̩̦̻̱̫̬̅̐̾̀̐͑̂̏m̴̨̤̙̘̮̃̽s̷̤̺͎͇͓̮̜̍̽̀ę̶͚̜͙̗̥̋͑̽̆̐̑̏ͅl̸̢̻͔͍̯͈̯̄́̐̋̅̓̓̇͘f̷̪͓̭̤̣̯͙̞͍̀̈́ ̷̨͙̺̗̜͓̫͆́̎͂͋̈́̅̑̚o̸̬̊̉͋́́̀͊̕̚͝n̴̛͓̜̒̏̎̔́̈́̕ͅe̷͉͚̭̐̔͌̈̐̅̃̒̉͘͜ ̸̢̘̹̭͊̓̑̈́̀͝d̶̙̼̺͔̲̜͚̣͂͗́̐̆͊͝a̶͉̭̪͑̄̃̍̅͂̇͆̓͝ẙ̸̱̍.̷̳͍̔̂ ̸̳͔̼͎̐͑͝Ũ̷̠̜̘͙͎͝ņ̵͉̻͇͖̜̝͔̺͗̅̊d̷͓̹̭̳̓͠e̶̡̘̯̤̫̔̋r̷̨̡͓̰̰͍̓̿́̌͜s̶̡̻̪͖̫̥̥͆̄́̐̅̌̈́͘͠͠ͅt̴̬̦̪̞̥̮͛͋͒̐͋͑̾̈͑͘a̶̞̫̞̤͒̈́͛n̶̠̹̜̠͉̰̳̻̝̑̓͋̄͌̉͝d̵̢̜̯̣̩̦̪̮̞̒̈́̽̂̿ͅ ̴̘̙͕̮̪̖͌̐̋̇̓͗̿̅̈́̍ḩ̴̢̲̤͂̅̐͜ͅi̵͉͕͈̘̋͆m̴̛̻̤̗̰̻̪̉̇̕͜͜.̸̤̙͉͕͕͎͖̭̦͆͐́͠”̴̯̀͊́̓̅̂́͝ͅ

”̷̧̝͇̘͖̲͔̙̭͗̃͊…̵̧̼͋̈́̉̆͋͠͠Ḻ̶̨̹̟̏e̸̡̡͉͉̝̻̼͎̅̑̇̒̈̋̂͐͌͘n̸͈̗̻͍͍̉̿̄́̾͂̑̏͠d̷̨̛̫̯̪͚̰̤̠͓͛̔ḯ̷̺n̷̛̲̼̄̋͗͗͠͝͠ĝ̶̨̊̀̉̈̑͛ ̷̦̞͕͉͈̋̈́͜͠a̴̭͗̽̾̉ ̸̖̪̠͉͕̜͉̍̋̒́͒̆h̶̛̖͓̅̃̍̄̊͗͝ä̶̢̬̜̼̤̜́̊̊͂ņ̴̡̡̨̼̤̮͚̻͊͛̀d̵̡͓̮̘̝̂͠ ̷̧͎̙̣̫̪̱̭̖͑̾̀̓̕͝ͅī̷̳͉̹̌̅̑͝ş̸̛͍̝̣͆͂̌ ̴͉̫̫͎̅͑̑̿̊̒͜n̷̞͑ơ̴̙̮͌̀̇͂͆̆̈́͝͝ť̶̘͖͇͉͉͌͆̀̿̍́̐̋̕ ̶̙͇̜̌̈́̊̐͊̈́́͗͝ẁ̵̨͙̭͈̯͙̲̳̖r̴͖͓̎̋̎̾̕͠͝͝ŏ̷̪̬͒͛̏̈́͂͂̏͆͘n̶̰͚͗̒̏g̶̡̫͈͔̮̮͚̫̘̗̎́̏̄̏͋̊̚.̸̡̱̭̘̪̳͔̻̔̾̆̔̇͒̈͊̕̚͜”̵̢̺̦̫͙̹̞̲̃͂͊̋̃͑́͋̐̕

”̵̧͚̩̙͎̹͓̺̻͇̍̉̓̆͐͝N̷̨̲̦̝̖̭̻͔͔͂́̏ͅę̷̘̦̻̙̟̱̊̌̆̅̓̾͐̓̔i̶̛̫̫̿͊̀͂̀̈́͛͐͝t̵̛̺͖̹̓̈́͋̅͛̽͒̚͝h̶͉͚̼̉̇̔͊̈́̈́̾̒͜͝ͅe̷̝͓̪̬͈̙̽̐͛r̷̡͖͉̝̯͉͚̺͗̀̊̑̌̈́̈̾́͆ ̴͔̝̲̰̟͍̭̭̤̓̎͊ĭ̷͖̱̬͇̪̓̈́̒̎ͅs̸͎̀̆͗̉̓̈́͝ ̸̫͊͊̍̊̾̂͘͘͝ḽ̷̨̢̨͕͔̯̘̥̰̎͂̓͌̽͘͠e̵̮̒t̸̻͈̝̯̤͇̻̣̉́̒͂̉t̷̹͆͜ͅḯ̷̧̱̘̼͔͚̝̆̈͝͠n̶̢̢̰͖͚̞̭̼̝̩̍ģ̷͎̤̰͔̜̹͗́͌͂͆̂̍ ̸̨͖̠̎̆͛̽̎̄̾̔h̴̨̛̠̙͎͎̱̤̬͉͂̓͑͐̍̒͑́͝į̵̨̧̭̲̥̙͚̰̀̉m̶͚̈͛̈́̾̽͂͐̔͘͘ ̷̢̮̰̹̳͙̤̺̑̊͂̅͌̚g̷̤̦̀͛̎͆͝r̵̦̃͒̽̍͘ǫ̴̢̤̤͉͕̦̲͕̎̔̈́̐̅́̌̒̋͋͜w̵̭̘̬̲̜̗̉̇̆͗̐͒ͅ ̷͙̂͒͌̈́̐̋͐͂͒̈́ų̸̲̊p̸̤̠̞̹̣̺̮͈̐͌̄̑͂̾̍̆̎.̶̯́̾͐͜͝”̶̦͎̗͉͖̌̏̑̾͆̀̌̕͠

Just as the beast sprinted [Name] did the same. He knew there was no way to go— the thing doesn’t seem to get tired easily, and [Name] was more than tired. There was no other choice but to fight— but he couldn’t see how. Running was the only way to gain some time for whatever he could do next. But his mind, filled with terror didn't let him think— he was scared. Scared of not see anyone of his beloved ones again; to not enjoy his usual life with the others. To not see Beatrice again— to not laugh, cry, dream.

He abruptly stop right into a tree and looked behind just to see the beast charging directly at him. [Name] tried to regulate his shaky breathing as his tensed body prepared to move at the exact moment he ordered— and just as the animal was inches to bite him, [Name] shut down his own pain and jerked away just in time for the beast to hit it’s head on the wood, a loud bump echoing the forest. The boy didn’t waste time and ran again, sparing a quick glance behind him to see the animal was grunting and didn’t intend to move.

”̸̭̆̉̄̽̀͜͠͝À̵̖̳̼̙̿̔̍̇̇͛ṱ̴̟̔̽̇͌̐͝ ̵̙̳͊͊̎̄̇̀͌ļ̴͖̥̥̈͆̉̀̈́͝͝ͅȩ̸͙͎͌͘ą̸̨͉̼̳̭͖̩͓̗͒̈́̾̔s̶̝͔̩̟̺̙͇͕͊̉̈͂̋̈́͘ͅt̶̡̯̦̪̫͒͗̆̀̐̓͗͘͠ ̷̩͙̃͋h̶͍̩̩̝̺́̎̓̓̆̈́͝ē̶̘̯͈͉̪͚͓̞̆͑̍͑̓̀́͒͂͜ ̶̖͕̬̤̬͆͌̽͂̀͑̋́̚h̵̢̗̤̩̜̲̼̞͚̎͐̀̚͝ͅã̴͖͚̻͎̰̇̂͊͐s̵̱̳̝̪͕̝̖̎̀͜ ̶̧̡̖͈̞̗̣̼͇̀̾̀͋̑̎̒s̸̛͎̫̮͉̺̖̺̣̀̂̔̏́o̴̧̼̝̭̘͓̭̤̤̊̈́̓̀̆̋̇̕̕̚ͅm̶̧̟̺̱͉̝͍̼̱̂̂̕ê̶̡̡͓̜̼ ̵̧̤͔̦̠̠͆̋͛̋̈́̔̈́͘͠b̵̢͈̫̯̫̀͒̚ȑ̶̠̇̈͑͐͑̓a̶̢̛̻͈͆̒́̎̽i̵͈̻̘͋̈̂̐̽͋͛́ņ̴̥̘̬̭̩̳̎̕s̵̛̲͈͌̓̅ ̶̨̨̛̹͈̟͖͈̯̜̩̈́͊̐̀̐́̋͆̕l̴̛̤̼̘̺̖̗̝̫̹̯̏́͒͌̕͝͠e̶̫͈̥̯̟̋͗́͗f̷͍̯͉͓̠͗̓̈́͌͂̃͝t̶̡̬͍͙͗.̸̟̈́̎͂̈̐̐̀”̸̛̛̜̬̟͕͔̦̪̫͛͒͋̒̈̿͜ͅ

”̸̗͙͇́̂̾̆̆D̵̩̘̍́̎̐͝o̶̯̤͙͉͍̦̪̩̤̥̎͋̓̿̔̑̕ņ̸̨̞̞́͆͑̄͗́̎͊͑̇͜’̸̣͔͍̪̇͆̌̈́̆̀͂̕t̶̳̅̀̈́́̓͂ ̴̜͍̘̏̀̈̓̀͋̎ḇ̷̟̣͍̪͂ĕ̸̟͓̦̩̆̚ ̷̩̈́͛̋͋͒̏͝r̶̞͕̤̂͑̀̽̋̈́͆͌̓̓ú̶͎͓̜͛̉̄͌͒͠ḋ̴̟̜̟͇̳̙̉̇ȩ̷͉̙̳̳͖̖͆̓̀͐̕͝͠!̸̨̛͚͕͚̋͑̋͊͌̔̓͌̄”̶̧̼̹̪̖̱̭͎̟̊͋̀͘͘͝

[Name] tried to get away as much as he could— hoping he could find a weapon to defend himself, yet his erratic state did not let him focus on anything. Whatever he was doing or planning was done when death was breathing on his neck. 

“̷̨̪̣̤̭̱͚̋̐̈́̏͗̕̕̕T̸̜̲̘̬̜̽͐h̵̜̯̯̩͍̄̈́̒͆͌̆͌ỉ̵̞̼̳̥̱̤̫͖̊̂̓͝ͅs̶̢͎͚̞͉͕̳̩̭̬̈́̌̄̆̅̒̋̄ ̸̜̆̈́̀̅̅̂̌͌̚k̷̺̱̪͌̀̇͛͝͝ị̴͇̬̦͗̾̂͂̅̾͑̈͝d̵͍̩͇̍́̿̓̆̉̈͘̕͝…̸̛̰͙̲̘̞̒̇͐̀͛͌ ̸̛̯̗̗͍̞͇̦̈́́͊̈́̉͛̊̇͜͜ą̵̨͆̊̑̄͗r̸͍̰̞̼̼̟̳̆̃̏̔̑̾̊͘͠ę̵̨͍̱̗̮̫͙̲̿̋̒n̵͕̗̯̻̦͓̒̌̉͒̍̎’̴͉̯̣̝̪̞̥͚̫̈́̀͛̈́̽͛̽̂̈t̴̡̩̟̹̼̱̉͒́͑̅́̕ ̷̡̩̣̕w̸͚̪͛̍̉̑͒̽́ͅe̷̛̪̳̬̲̳̱̬̒͒̀͗͆́̃͠͠ ̶̢̟̮̲̲̥͕̠̒̿̌t̷͓̓͛͛̔͝r̷̡͈̹̙͑͛̄̔̕a̷̢̗̼̫̼͇͛̈̐͌̐̉͐ͅỉ̶̧̺͈̭͍̣̦̳̙̘ņ̵̰̺̏͋̃̂͜i̴͙͊̎̈́n̷̢͔̭͍̥̗̮̊ͅg̴̢̤̮̽ ̴̢̠̼̯̈̐̍̈́͗̒̅̍̓̌ḩ̷̧̛̳͚̼͎̹̃̀̆͛̃̇i̵͔̱͎̊͒̃̽̈́̉̎͐̾̚m̵̛̩̲̘̻͗̊̈́̀͂̚̕͠ ̴̧̼̪̟̰͚͚̝̖̣͗̈́͒t̴̡̛̬̖͕͈͎̬̳̊̀͊̌͜ͅo̷̭̞̩͐̍͐̾̇̎̊̍͘͝ ̷̙̫̆͋́͋̽͂ọ̶͖͚͊v̴̨̰̝̦͈͓̣̜̈́̎̿̋͗͊̍̇̓̚ė̵̱̗̝̖̮̗̹̟̠͈̈̔͑͑̓r̵͉̦̘̼͉͎͇͔̒̇͑̓͑͘͘͘͝ĉ̸̢͇̀̀͛̿͝͝ò̷̧̬̖̖͕͕͉̜̞̲̈́̎̆m̷̧͔͓̩̫̰͇͕͇̀̈͜e̷̡̡̨̮̤̝̱̪̝̐́ ̷̨͓̮̯̼͔͂̂͐̐͆͘ͅṣ̸̛̜͚̰͍̻̣͆͒͋͛͊͆͜͠h̶͚͎̐ï̴̢̖͉̘̥̼͌̀̋̾̒̇͒t̷̳̜̝̰̦̍̏̈́͒͠͝ ̷̦̭̅̒̚l̴̛̘̜̇̇́̊̕ḯ̴̞̃͆̈́̑̈́͗͠k̷͈̮͔̮̗͚͙̤̺̈́̈͛̈́̓͒̍̓̌͠e̸̡̹̬̬͎͙͖̩̔̆̾͌́̒̔̏͛̚ ̸̙͉̆́̎̂̀̚t̴̮͗̎͒̋́̿̃͠͝ḥ̴̰͈̠͕̩́̉̋̽̽͌͂̐̾͜ͅi̵̡̖̇̅̃̃̀̓̚͝s̴̢̞̤͗?̴̨̊̒͗̏͒̈́̈́͛”̸̝͈̖͇̊

”̴͉̯̪͉̳̝̺̙́̂̐͛̒̌̓̆́̕ͅF̴̳̳͚̞̠͈̗̦͋̈̌͛̾͋̕o̷̙̙̘̮̠͚͎͔̊́͑̽̋̚͝͠͝r̷̫̝̭̱̹̮͒ ̸̫͈̝̙̈̈́t̴̨̛̖̯̩̠̥͆̇́̐̋͝ͅh̵͓͉͉͑̒i̵̟̓s̷̢̡͚̩̣̙͈̉͆̇̐̎͌̉͆̄ ̴̮̦́̑͋̿ȩ̸̬̱̩̳̖̯̼̬̜͊̿̈́͗x̶̛̞͕̜͕̠̺ͅa̸̢͓͖͔̯̰̪͍̫͒̀͐̀͛̿̃c̷̠̪̬̪̞̹̏̋̄̕t̶̢̲̜͍͈͚̟͇̎̐̅ ̴̡̨̠́́̐̃͆̃̏̾̉̓s̸̡̪͉̭͔̙̦͚̼̈̀̇̾͒i̸̜͇͈̳̻͆̂ͅţ̴̱̗̞̗̜̾̈́̽͌͘͘͝ụ̸̙̬̬̘̹̂̿͊̄͊͗̎͠͝ͅa̷̝̬̻̿̒͂͆͒̂̅̚̚͝t̵̛̘̓͗̽͌̿i̷͙̳̟̙̦̺̽͑͗̍͊̌͋ͅo̴̡̧̧̞̠͉̟̟̯̤͐̀̑̐̊n̴̤̫̟̤͚̑̊ͅ?̵̣̩̻͔̳̳̟̂̇͝ͅ ̸͎̖̲̟̜̫̍̿̇̂̒̐I̶̮̼̝̖̯̺͖̒͒̾̌́̋̌͑͜͝͠ ̵̼̔͌̍̈́͆̔́͒͠t̶̲̥͎̦̦͚̠͔͓̄̇̽̄̍̑̚̕͘͜h̶̡̩̥̩̭̹͌̒͋̊̓̔̕ì̵̼͔̜n̵͖̥͓̠̠͌k̶̨̼̗̹̈̉̇͑̌̅͛́̓ ̵̥̞̼̦̒̅͊̏̅͛̚w̵̘͈͇̼̘͈̲̟̎̑̾̆̕̚ę̶̣̘̾̔̏͝͝ ̶̣̩̣͓̕ḍ̷̫̬̦͇͆̅̿̈́͂̄̓̆̇i̴̧̛̔́d̶̨̛͈̬̆̓̈́̈́́̔̀̕̕n̷͉̯̥̤̲͗̂̓̋̈́͜'̶̛̝̥̞̖̞̦́̑͆̃͌͌͠ͅt̷̐̆͜͝.̶̛̼̮͍̋̆̉̿̎͑”̵̨̺̣̩̉͑̃̐̎̕͠

And just before he knew it those loud steps echoing the forest made his mind crazy again— hearing the thing coming from behind so quickly made him tremble. He was tired; his side hurt like hell and his foot felt as if it was going to snap right there. Yet the adrenaline was what made him unable to focus on anything but to live.

Yet, his inability to focus is what made him not notice a thick, curly tree root pecking out of the ground. Something so simple and harmless is what made him fell straight on his face, and to the hands of his executioner.

He tried to get up as quickly as he could, grabbing what he could desperately. Yet, the beast was already over him, drooling, growling and shaking in anger. With a thunderous cry, the thing jerked itself forward to bite, and before it could have gotten his neck or part of his face, [Name] raised his left arm to protect himself, allowing the creature to bite him there instead.

Sinking pointing teeth trough his flesh, touching what wasn't meant to be touched obliged [name] to let out a loud, shattering cry— the thing’s fangs had already scratched him on his stomach and legs, yet the only thing processing on [Name]’s mind was how his arm hurt that fucking much. He cried, he shouted, he whimpered, yet there was nothing else to do— was his arm going to be teared apart? What could he do to something this big? Tears flowed on his face dirtied with blood, his voice getting higher and higher.

”̴͇͗͌͐̅̀̏̈S̸͖͕̩̫̩͆̌͊̽̔͝t̷͕̜̟̮́̀̄ò̴̢͇͍̇̃̚p̴͇̗̭̂͐͐́́̓ ̵̡̛͇̮̮̓̓͝c̶̖͙̯̠̳͚͈̯̜̓̓͆r̵̢̞͚̜͖̞̐̿̍̿̅̊̀̓y̶͓̼͓̘̳̥̜͘͜͠į̶̢̡̜̩̫̹͚̜̰̓̊͛͌͝ņ̶̙͍̲̱͙̱̃̾̓͆̍͊̅g̴̢̙͖͓̜̏̔̓͛̌̈́͠!̴̻͖̳̟̓̍̀̽̍̽͗͝͠ ̵̺̞͈̗̮̱̺͇̗̅̀͐͆ͅF̷̛̖̜̳̻͔̃̈́̅́̆ͅi̴̥̺̠̯͔͔̻̤̮͓̚͠g̸̦̝̰̦̺͔̔̃̍͒͐̃͘h̸͇͋̒́̾̓̈ẗ̷̩͓̏͐͠!̸͔͓͓̔͗͜”̸̝͇̪̎̚͠

Yet, something clicked— his right hand. It had took something solid and sharp: a quick erratic look fell over his only hope: a rock that would have never been a weapon of choice, but there was no time to be picky. It had a sharp side, pointy enough to cause some harm against a person. But to a beast? No way— but he had to fight. There was no choice.

As the thing bite [Name]’s left arm with all it’s strength, the boy let out a harsh, loud cry as he gripped his hand on the shaped stone and with all his will, encrusted it on the beast’s head multiple times, letting out splashes of blood as he took it out and in. It went all over his face, and it was no longer possible to maintain his eyes open because of it— the beast tightened his grip on his arm, yet [Name] never loss his’ on it’s head. Disgusting sounds of something cracking filled his ears; the mix of pain and adrenaline stopped him to feel anything but anger. This time, he wasn't himself— he was just a vessel for rage at this moment. 

Ì̴̠̤̻̒̇̓̇ ̵̧̯̲͓͕̳̖̻̼̀́̐̈́̊̋͘w̸̢̮̘̞̺̹͑͆̈́͒̎ï̵̭͈͍̰̪̖̑̋͊̌̿͛ͅͅl̴̢̖̬̦̫͈̣̙̂̒͒̉͜͝ļ̸̛͉̭̝̠̳̖͚̔̂̉͝͝͝ͅ ̴̞̜̼͑͌͠͝l̸̡̡̩̮̝̭̳̫͂͊͊͊̌̉͌e̵̢̮̝̯͑̈̃͊̇̑̓̊͜͠n̵͍͗͑̔̕d̴̡̛͓̜̺̦̯̗́̎͊̐̒̒ ̶̧̨̛̝̬̫̻̲̏͜͝a̶̠̺̲̭̽̒́̌̏̋̋̒ͅ ̷̪̼̱̫̠̖̄̑̈͜͜ḧ̵̖̻̦̭̟̭́̋͜a̷̭̯̖̜̺̪̜͇̓̔͋̀̈́̍̕̚n̶̻̣͔̜͈̬̂̀̐͑̕ḏ̴̻̜̙̝͔͚̳̏́̄͠.̸̡̢͙̰̙̟̺̟͇͛̿͆̓̑́̈́͂͋̕

It was then, that something inside [Name] clicked. 

Deep inside he was scared, yet the will to see his friends again; to see Beatrice again, made him overcome that fear and replace it with rage.

He was going to fight— fight for himself, fight for his future. He wasn’t going to die all alone in this forest by the hands of a fucking ugly bear. That wasn’t his story— he promised himself he was going to see the outside; to seek the truth and find himself. He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t going to let anything take his life away like this. He will see them again. 

H̶͍͛è̷͔ ̵̼́w̶͔̐ḭ̴͛l̸̺̎l̷͙̈́ ̸̩̂s̶̺͗e̴͘ͅe̵̮͋ ̸̗͛M̶̭̅e̴̫̔ï̴͉ḳ̸̐ȩ̴̔ ̸̱̚ä̴̦́ğ̴̯a̸̢̎ĩ̵̞n̸̺̓.̵̮͛

A thunder resonated inside his head, and with a last thrust, the stone went all the way inside it’s head as the sound of it’s broken skull and last gruff cry resonated under the rain. Even after [Name] believed it was dead already, his teeth never loose the grip on his arm. It was the boy’s job to carefully let them out, but that didn’t stop the awful, horrendous pain he felt once the adrenaline disappeared. However he could, he pushed the thing aside and laid there, looking at the cloudy twilight.

Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes. The rain touched his face, not washing completely the dirty scarlet on his flesh. Even if it was cold, the amnesiac boy couldn't help but feel sleepy.

A few minutes of resting didn’t sound that bad right now…

A̴͕̹̿͒̒̚f̵̟̩͆́̐̽̓͜ţ̵̢̹̝̯̓͠ȩ̵̡̥͔̹͓̅̀̑r̵̨̬̦͈̩͂̾̐ ̵̪̈͒̋̀̚ą̵̤͎̆̐̑̽̔͝l̶̛͕̜͂͐ľ̴̗͈͚͉̬̅́̃̎ ̶̣̹̄͒̀ǒ̴̳̻̬͉̥̥f̷̩̟͙͍͑͜ ̸͓̔͊̎̋̓ṯ̵͇̊͜h̷͎͌̾̌̚̕ǎ̸̡͇̤̌̆̚t̸̡̢̳̼̜̼̋̆̐͗͘͝ ̷̧͉̼̺̀̊ÿ̴̢̩̭̺̞́͊̏ō̶͉̪̌̎́u̷͚͆̓͋́̑ ̸̹̓̽̎́̕͠a̶̖̓͛͠r̴͇̦̹͇̊̊̋̔̅ḛ̷͔͖̟̓̎̀͒͝ ̸̪̳͕̌̎̔̓ͅg̶̗̮͆͌̌̐̄ó̴̟̜̳̿͛̕͜ȋ̶̜̑̿͆̓͝n̷͚̊ġ̴̯̲̮̝̺̠́̾ ̵͉̂̐̈́͗͝ͅt̶̨̛̖̱̠̰̂̏̊͠o̵̟͕̣̔̈́̓̋̔ ̷̢̝̉̈́̄͋͘̚ͅs̴̙̖̣͈̆̇͗ĺ̷ͅe̸͓͚͂̇̑̑͐̓ȩ̸̯̒͌p̷̛͖̙̞̘̐̇̓?̴̪̮̮̍͊́̚͝!̸͙̼̐̇̏̿͜ͅ ̷̢̢̬̟͌͝ͅẂ̸͕̝̽͆̍o̵̢̺͉̪̟̣͋̋̓̄̂̑m̸̬͙̠̩̗̑͋͑̔͑͆a̸̜̰̺̿̑͊̚n̵̡͙̹͒!̵̞̂̓̇̕͜ ̴͙̮̂W̶̰̼̬̳͔̌̐a̸̛̝̳͖̾̔̓k̵̭͉͈͖̅͗̐͛ͅe̵̙̭̙͛ ̷̨̫̟͓̫̗͆h̷̺͚̆̈̈̅͠͝i̵͈͠m̵̝̫̌̒͛̂ ̵̢͈͍̝̎̅̒u̴̡̺̙̤̽́͛̈͜p̴̡̺͙̙̱̚!̵̛̥̦̯̰̹͔̈́̌̈́

He was going to fell into darkness, until he heard something.

A whistle.

Opening his eyes, [name] thought of his choices: sleep, hoping to be found? or to suck it up, get up and find whoever was calling for him? This wasn't the time to sleep around— not after such display.

Even if all of his body screamed in pain, the boy got up and with his last strength went to where the sound came from— he knew exactly where it was. Luckily, every time [name] felt he was dozing off or just collapse, the stranger whistled again. Just as he stepped closer, he could hear it— voices, two people walking around, talking about some idiot and another gentle voice saying he was going to be alright.

[name] knew exactly who they were. 

With a last fight, [Name] stepped out of where he was and fell straight to the ground, sighing in relief as he heard the voices of his partners coming for him.

”Holy fucking shit!” The blond exclaimed as his eyes widened in surprise and relief, running where [Name] was, “you are alive— you crazy idiot! What were you thinking running off with that thing like that!? You almost killed me!” He tried to look at every injury the [hair color] haired had, and by just seeing how much blood covered his body turned his tone to one more terrified, “holy shit— holy shit! How are you even standing?!”

”R—Reiner! Calm down, he’s okay!” Bertolt tried to keep his friend with a cold head, but the tall boy felt scared of [name]'s well being. Any of it looked okay— the amnesiac boy looked like he went trough hell and back. He was covered in blood, he was shaking. Bertolt felt fear for him.

”I... handled... it,” [Name] spoke between breaths, tired of today, “I told you... we would find each other,” he smiled tirelessly, closing his eyes.

”H—Hey! Don’t close your eyes!”

But even if [Name] wanted to resist, the darkness caressed him with gentleness, inviting him to give in— which he gladly did. The last thing he recollected was both boys carrying him, speaking to him to not fall asleep.

”I told you he’s strong.”

”He barely made it, don’t act high mighty when he has more to do.”

”Reckless.”

“Oh, hush! He’s alive— that’s what matters.”

"Hmn. But for how long?"

♛

The nurse made it clear he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon— horrible news for his friends to hear. She had explained his injuries were worse than they thought— his arm was the bigger problem, to the point they thought it was unusable at first glance. Luckily, further inspection discarded such statement, only needing some stitches to all the injuries and a special treatment for his arm. His arms and stomach were the main point of the attack, with his leg being heavily bruised. Thankfully [name] was unconscious for all the process to not interrupt the process.

Unfortunately, there was no more to do until he woke up, an answer they didn’t have. The boy fell into a slumber where nobody could wake him up. Sometimes the nurse, who was in charge of him most of the time, said he would grunt or say some slurred words. This could be caused by the fever that appeared the next day of his arrival, complicating his health. The head doctor didn't sugarcoat his words and stated he could or could not wake up, if only he didn't succumb to the fever any more.

There where times when his friends would visit him, but the doctor had strictly stated only one person could everyday— the man was surprised as he always saw someone else everyday. The majority always asked for him to wake up and be together again, yet each one of them asked with different tones. Some were upset, others careless —as if they knew he would wake up— and sometimes, he heard a happy voice telling the boy they would wait for him.

Now that he recollected, those two were best friend but yet, they were much different— what was it? Jaeger and his friend... Arlert. The doctor had a memory of how miserable Jaeger looked, taking Knight's hand as if it was the last time he would see him. He could tell the boy needed to cry, but hold his ground, just saying that he 'didn't want to go through this again'. And there was cadet Arlert, who only time he looked upset was the first encounter he had with Knight. Then for his next visits he often wore a sweet smile, holding Knight's hand as he spoke about wondering lands they didn't know— about what they did for today, about a memory they once shared. He liked to bring books to read at loud, too.

And then, there was this other boy— the doctor heard his name once, when someone was calling for him outside: Jean. A look of anger sometimes overcome his features, voicing his irritation about what his friend had done. There was a time where the boy asked the doctor if he was going to die or not, perhaps in a heat moment where he didn't want to wonder any longer. The answer was that, for him, it was unlikely yet not impossible. Jean just grunted, returning to his crossing arms stance with his usual frown. There were times where Jean could only stare at him, not saying a word. But there were other times when he could walk all over the room, until the doctor had to tell him to sit down or leave.

Sometimes, a black haired girl came too. Wearing a sad expression, yet firm voice. She always asked if there was something she could help them with whatever they needed for [name]. "We'll wait for you anytime, [name]. Even if it takes some time," she tries to reassured to the sleeping boy, yet a sigh escapes her lips, "...I cannot say the same for Eren, tough. You are making him the kid he was when you fell sick," she takes his hand, rubbing with her thumb his palm, "you know he has no patience at all... [name], please don't go where we can't reach. I miss you." and just like many times before leaving, she kissed his hand with gentleness.

Eventually Shadis came once, checking on the boy and asking if there was going to be something permanent on his health or not. Even if the wounds looked bad, there wasn't any indication of a permanent consequence. Yet if he woke up any time soon, he had to wait for his wounds to heal completely and take out the stitches. The doctor had made it clear he could not participate in any training if he wasn't fully healed. Shadis knew this already, anyway. Both of them acknowledged the rigorous training the ODM could be, and opening wounds was a big no no. The taller man only wondered if [name] could keep up with their training, or if he would decide to quit after such experience. Only them could wonder.

_______

the past.

_______

”You know, your eyes are different.”

”You have said that before.”

”I know. But I’ve never seen something like them before— and then you don’t remember anything…”

”Your point?”

Armin hums, wondering. 

“Maybe you are not even from here! Maybe you are from a place faaaar far away, don’t you think?”

“If I am from far away, how am I here?”

”Well! The books say humanity made the walls at one point, so that means there were people living freely before that!”

The amnesiac hums.

”And maybe, you were from an important family with distinguish features!” the small boy laughs warmly, imagining the past of his friend, “just like Valten’s story! don’t you think the same?”

Of course he remembers Valten— it was one of Armin’s books the two liked to read. It was about Valten, a boy with amnesia who a girl finds unconscious near a lake. Since the boy doesn’t recall any memories, the girl takes him back to her family, who runs a bar in town. His life develops from there, until an accident reveals his birthmark to the royals and finds out he was the lost prince from the royal family.

The moment Armin found out about the book he ran to Beatrice’s house to read it with his friend. From there, the blond always had bright ideas for [Name]’s past, absurd as they were. That was only what they had— wonders and speculations. Children’s wonder about the unknown— about what existed far away from this confinement.

”But why am I the only one with these eyes…?” [Name] spoke quietly, resting his chin on his knees as he hugged his legs.

”Hmn… maybe because you are special! Maybe you are the only one in your family that have them!”

“Mhm…” he sighs.

”But what we do know, is that our answers are outside these walls! Where the sea is!”

That, [Name] could agree with.

”It is said that the sea is much bigger than—!” And there goes his blond friend again, with excitement in his voice and reddened face as he spoke once more about the sea as if it was the first time he did it.

[name] couldn’t help a smile from forming, feeling excitement on his chest as he imagined what the sea looked like.

_____

the ocean.

_____

“As I was saying, child…” the woman stared expectantly, ordering with her tone to listen, “your future is already written. It is your choice to do it willingly, but unfortunately, if you refuse this task… it will be a hard life for you.”

The woman took some sand, just to slip it little by little. Staring, the boy found the sand more interesting than the so important topic at hand. A laughter came out from the woman before a sad, melancholic gaze appeared on her. 

"Be responsible with your strength— there would be times when you are harsher, so be mindful. Be thoughtful; just throwing your rage at your enemies won't help you, child. That is something a couple of our descendants had trouble with in the past, so don't make the same mistake."

"How do you know about them?"

"Because at one point in your life, you will be able to see the past of some of our lineage. And, if there's no mishap, they and I, would help you trough your task."

”Why do I have to do it…?”

”Because there’s nobody else, love… your family— this lineage, is destined to… disappear. It is our curse, since our blood and bodies were used for the wrong purpose— corrupted by greed just for the sake of wanting more.

Something like us weren't meant to exist, and so, time is our biggest enemy. There will be times where you will suffer the throwbacks of our lineage. After all, we are a creation born from ignorance, and greed blinds the common sense.“

”…I don’t understand…”

She chuckles, “sometimes I forgot you are just a child…” looking at the sea in front of them, a sigh escapes her lips, “the ocean… is beautiful, isn’t it?”

The boy’s eyes sparkled with excitement, clearly enjoying the change of subject. “Yes! It is very big and blue!!!”

”Indeed it is,” she smiles, “close your eyes with me, child.”

“Can you hear it? The waves?”

”Yes!” He answered in a hushed tone, smiling.

”The birds… the wind…”

”Yeah.::”

”That’s a gift from the world to you,” she pauses, “if someday you feel like crying— if you cannot find your way, close your eyes and remember this gift. Remember these sounds, this scenery…

remember, that I will always love you.”

____

the present.

____

The amnesiac slowly opens his eyes, body almost numb and hurting. With a migraine incoming, the boy prepared for the worst feeling he was going to experience for the next days.

He let out a groan, alerting the companion on the chair. 

Calling his name, [Name] recognized it was Jean. His worried, loud voice made him headache worse than ever, “s-shit! are you awake?!" the only answer he got was another grunt by [name], who tried to sit down yet he didn't have enough strength to move himself. He felt as if he was... underwater. "don't move! after what you have been trough, don't move an inch, you hear me?! after that shit you did—"

"I saw the ocean," [name] spoke bluntly, staring at the ceiling. It felt too real— a woman he knew but didn't recognize talking about...?

A grunt leaves Jean. "[name], you dream about everything and then—"

"No," [name] interrupted, "I have seen it; it was... vivid."

"...the attack took a toll on you, [name]. Stop talking nonsense,"

Shaking his head, [name] tries his best to sit down, trying to think about the dream. "I think... I think I lived near the ocean— or at least someone I knew lived on the shore..."

"Shore...? [name], you are not listening to me! You have slept for almost three weeks!"

"You are the one who doesn't listen!" [name] talked back, clearly annoyed, "I'm sure the ocean has something to do with me! I just do! Even if all of that was a dream, I..." he looked at his fists with a frown, feeling chaos inside his head, "I know what I saw was real. A woman talked to me on the shore... but I can't reach her words. Something about... me...?"

Jean sighed, annoyed yet understanding. His friend never remembered something about his past back in Trost, so hearing more nonsense than usual leaving his mouth was even more irritating knowing this idiot throw himself to danger like nothing. That was made him livid— he agreed mentally he would hear [name] out, but the lecture he prepared come first.

"Okay, your memories aside," Jean passed a hand trough his hair, "I just want to know WHY DID YOU ALMOST KILL YOURSELF, YOU IDIOT!"

Grunting, [name] laid down harshly again. As he rolled his eyes, he tried to calm his migraine down with no success. "Reiner was in danger. What else could I have done?"

"Uhm, I don't know? Maybe LEAVE REINER WITH THE FUCKING BEAR? The dudes almost a Titan himself, [name]! He could have handled himself just fine! But you HAVE to always be in danger for nothing!"

"How could I left him with that? He's my friend! Would you have done that to Marco?" 

"You have to care for yourself, [name]. I'm seriously saying this."

"Don't act selfish."

"Don't act dumbly. You know you have a problem with your migraines— what would have happen if Reiner didn't find you? Stop acting stupid!"

"But he found me! And now I'm here!" [name] shouted, "Why would I have left him like that!? He's my friend, just like you!"

"Of course fucking not! We are not the same!" he gritted his teeth, "don't even compare me with him!"

[name] glares at Jean, clearly upset. Yet the tone of his voice returns serene again. "Would you have left me there, then? Because I wouldn't have,"

Jean grunted, clearly in disadvantage. “Stop acting like a saint, shit,” covering his face with his hand, the boy’s tone changed into a defeated, tired one, "why are you this clueless? Why can't you see how this place is?" he felt sensible, "why are you so different?"

"…” [Name] stared at the ceiling, a blank but clear sadness overcoming his features, “wish I could know,”

As Jean retreated his body on the back of the chair, a sensible yet pity look fell over his dear friend. Back in Trost, those strange captivating eyes were lost. Jean sometimes imagined looking into a doll’s eyes— an abyss without a light. A dark corridor without exit. There were times he thought his friend was born unable to feel.

But his eyes changed. A harsh change made them sparkier— vivid. It was then, that his sadness, happiness, playful feelings were clearer to catch. 

Jean knew all about it.

His friend was sad when waking up— times where fogging nightmares or nonexistent dreams plagued his mind, making him feel useless.

His friend was happy when eating Beatrice’s breakfast— it reminded him of happier memories he could make instead of trying to reach the past.

His friend was relaxed when sleeping where he wanted— specially inside the woods. A peaceful slumber where Jean wished those times never ended.

His friend was angry when fighting his bullies— Jean always could see that fire in his eyes. It could have been scary, but being [Name], it was never scary.

He only saw tears once. And not those painful tears when headaches came— no. Tears for someone else in his dream; for a person yet to met.

His friend was lost in the world, but at the same time, he wasn't.

Jean sighed, tirelessly blinking. “…a shore, you said?”

Love isn’t everything

soulmate au.

You stared at the baby blue sky, the grass blades sticking through the fabric of your shirt as you roll to your stomach to watch the dandelions still waiting to bloom.

A red string appeared.

It swirled and twisted around your finger like a smoke way downwards and away to somewhere you couldn’t even bother to know.

You had a soulmate now. You growl in annoyance, bringing the edges of your palm against your eyelids and dig them deep until you see the blue and red cluster of dots flying through the darkness. How could this happen?

Just as you, finally, settled into your skin and thought you were okay being soulless. That was fine. You were proud of it ! Not be chained down by another person who could be anyone, to be chained to a stranger that had so much damn control in your life. Peace!

And then the universe throws this bullshit at you.

Great !

You didn’t mean to murder someone in your past live, or step on a puppy, because this red string means that everything you went through— the bullies, the family, the struggles, the 3 a.m. thoughts, was for nothing.

That, in the end, all that you went through was to be suddenly washed away by the magical power of love and you’ll settle down, abandon your dreams, and marry some fucking stranger.

Weren’t parents always preaching about white vans and strange men, but go all kumbaya when a string gets involve.

It gets your blood pumping, your teeth grinding and you look at the red string wrapped around your finger and wished the color of your soul mate was the same when you spilled it in the ground.

The clouds above float so lazily, carefree and you, not for the first time, wish you too could just float away and leave the problems that chain you.

One of those chains went by the name of Responsibilities. And it was ringing through your phone, vibrating in your pocket, calling you forth.

You fished it, lazily, not even bothering to see the name of the number, as it wasn’t even a second before the screaming match started.

“WHERE ARE YOU? Do you not REALISE what today’s date is?! We have investors coming today! And where are you?!”

You sigh, already exhausted the moment you pressed the answer button. Yes, you remember today’s date as you haven’t had a decent lick of sleep preparing to the lead up of the meeting.

You are a shitty artist, with a shitty life and little pay.

“Why do you even want me there? I already painted all the art you wanted, let the others deal with those vultures.”

You truly did put as much effort into those paintings, making everything you could squeeze from the dry towel of creativity.

“They requested you by name! They’re interested! And that means money!”

“So?”

“Y/N!”

You pull the phone away from your throbbing ear, grimacing at the thought of facing your dealer on a Monday.

“Okay, okay, I heard you. I’m coming over now,” With that, you hanged up and with it all the hopes that you could rest.

You look down at the red string. You tisk in disgust and start walking towards your doom.

___

Never in your life did you think that you wanted to hang out with homeless people before. They’re an interesting type of people, with equally interesting stories to tell. Maybe if you had stayed in the park, you could have gotten the chance to hang with them.

It could have been ten thousand times better than the shitty situation you were in.

Turns out, you were going to the investors, not the other way around. People talked pleasantly, light laughter and prim and proper of a polite society. And here you were, a bright fish out of water.

You kept your gaze downwards, sitting in the dark corner, away from the big crowds. A cold drink being steadily warmed through your gripping hands, as the boredom started to mix with anxiety like a bad cocktail.

This isn’t exactly what you imagined. You thought of fancy suits and fancier dresses with butlers and waitress with drinks at hand. Well, they have all the above, but not once has anyone said anything to you. Or even pointed or looked your way.

But the red string is still there, taunting you with each passing second you stare at it. Bloody thing still wrapped itself around your finger, not actually touching your skin but close enough to tug at you.

You hate it.

Oh well, at least there were free drinks here. It’ll be long over if you can just stand there with your eyes cast down, not making a fuss. Which was all going pretty well in your humble opinion, when the cursed string tugged at you.

You seethed silently, wishing it would just stop– when it suddenly tugs harder again, snapping your eyes upwards.

And find your soulmate is staring at you. Maybe its the wine in your system, but time slowed down, just for the two of you, the glow of the low lights shining through his back and casting an angelic form for his blond hair. He too, look surprise, his grip on the glass drink fell loose, (he has the bluest eyes) shattering the trance that got you thinking the strangest things.

As people around him gasp and try to help, crowding around him, you snatch the opportunity with both hands and fast walk the hell out of there.

With hands trembling, you fumble out a text saying a quick sorry for your shitty dealer/friend, knowing this was important to her. You would even donate more time, just make it up to them.

A hand blocked your exit.

You jerked around, armed and ready to give whoever a piece of your mind, when you froze at the small man blocking your way. He was glaring exclusively at you, his dark eyes pinning you with ease.

“Excuse me, but I’m trying to–”

“You aren’t going anywhere without talking to Erwin.” You tilt your head in confusion, opening your mouth to maybe sway him he has the wrong person, only to shut it when the man at the other end of the string starts walking this way.

Panicking, you smile in apology as you rip the door open, pushing him aside so quickly the poor man stumble and cussed.

You didn’t even made to be steps outside when a body crashed into your right side, with such brutal force it left you gasping and swaying in your feet. Shitty balance!

Your hands instinctively grabbed anything to stop the date with gravity, then you’re holding a warm hand as your eyes look up to your saviour.

You just noticed how blue his eyes are. Strong jaw, and contoured chiseled face, lips full and with those eyes just staring at, what feels like his soul piercing.

Warmth rushes through your face, snatching your hand away, just to see the barest little string between you. God, you were staring.

But before you could make a classic Hollywood escape, the same hand caught your elbow as you were turning.

“Please, could we just talk?”

Jesus, even his voice is nice; Deep and just your type. This is a cliche, a teenager’s wet dream, but you live in reality and that means not talking to strangers. But you stumble through your words.

“Uh— I mean, I got, a, um, date. And well, I can’t stay here? I, uh, really nice seeing you. I’m sorry, uh, I gotta roll. Dude.” You blurted so much bullshit, you wondered if he was going to call you out from just smelling it. The smaller (midget, your mind snarked) man glared at you with such vengeance and hate, that maybe, yeah, leaving would give you the best chance of survival.

And now, you could see a woman, the thing that hard slammed you in the side, still grinning in victory.

The man’s face (your soulmate, your heart whispered) fall into devastation. It almost, too close, cracked your face, letting go of your tangled fears, but then you caught yourself in the flashes of memories of bullies, and spite ran through your chest.

“I— I am sorry. I—” The ringing of your phone has never felt so relieving. You fumbled through your jeans, shaking hands opening it to be greeted by a old friend in the same industry. His hand fell limp in his side.

“Hey, Y/N! Sorry for calling so late but—”

“Hey, sweetheart, yeah, I know I’m late. I’m sorry, I’ll call you and explain this later, please call me back?”

“Um, what the fuck? Uh, sure.”

You hang up, breathing hard and scratch your cheek, not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, look— I haven’t really settled down for this? I — Jesus.” 

This is a mess, you need to get the fuck out of here. That must have bleed into your face, because his grip was back with vengeance, holding a grid tight hold to you. You jump back in surprise.

“Please, just your name. That’s all, please?” It’s so weird, the man looks like he belongs among the CEO’s of New York, the top dogs that are miles apart from the normal joe like yourself. It strange, seeing him so crumbled and desperate for such a simple thing. 

“I’m y/n,” You whispered like holding into a secret, childish and  — wait a fucking moment, did you just tell him your name? Without you realizing it?

“Erwin, I’m Erwin Smith. Can we please talk Y/N?”

Well shit.

—

Pt.2

e m p t y / 11

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

chapter eleven training

Looking around, the taller male tries to see if anybody is watching him, and when he decides he's safe, Jean can't help himself to check out the body from his friend next to him— [Name]. He's not paying attention to him, so Jean was safe to see all the wanted. He has noticed he have matured enough, but he is taller than [Name] and stronger.

His soft skin looks nice — he wondered if it was easily to mark... his hair looked smooth, too. He wanted to smell it– remembering those days when they were kids he always thought [Name] smelled nice.

Jean's eyes could help but wander more on his body, but before he could get any lower, he noticed something just behind [Name]'s shoulder— a mark?

The two-toned haired male tries to look at it carefully, but someone came out of nowhere talking loudly, scaring him.

"Yo, [Name]!" A short guy yells, approaching both. Turning, he recognize is Connie. "What is that on your shoulder? Is that a mark?" He says, looking right on his shoulder.

"Uh? What?" [Name] asks, confused. He tries to look behind his shoulder, but he can't see anything. "What is it?"

"You don't know? It looks like a mark!"

"A mark?"

"Hmn... it looks like... a wing?? Nah..."

Someone else speaks, interested by the subject. Is a big blonde– Reiner. "It looks like... a crown." He says lowly, narrowing his eyes. He turns to see his brunette friend, who looks nervously at him in return.

"Well, possibly. It does look like it, though..." Jean speaks thoughtfully.

[Name] tilts his head, completely oblivious he had that. "I don't remember anyone telling me I had one..."

Connie raises and eyebrow, "no? not even your parents?"

[Name] stays quiet by the question, and Connie notices right away he asked something uncomfortable.

"S–Sorry! Forget that!"

"Way to go, baldy."

"Hey! I didn't think much of it!"

[Name] shakes his head, "It's alright. No, I don't think they told me."

"Well, that's a cool mark!"

"...Thank you?"

"You don't remember having it before?" Reiner asks, looking at it carefully.

[Name] shakes his head, wondering if he could remember about it– but a sharp pain in his head stops him. Grunting, [Name] places a hand on his head, trying to relieve the pain.

Everyone can see his discomfort, but is Jean the first one to ask. "Your head again?

"Yeah..."

"You have headaches a lot, uh?" Reiner asks.

"Sometimes," he rubs his forehead, but stops when he realizes something, looking at the teenagers with narrowed eyes, "but... how all of you noticed my mark?"

"Because it was noticeable!" Connie responds enthusiastically.

"...So you were watching me while I'm showering...?"

"Ah—! Well, hehe..." Connie begins to laugh, and Bertolt, Reiner and Jean avert your gaze, face blushing.

[Name] touches his mark, wondering. Who was I? He turns to Jean, who is averting his gaze, embarrassed, "can you draw it? I want to see it."

His friend just gulps, trying to act normal. "Oh, sure."

Eren just saw their interaction from far away, pouting and frowning like a child.

"You should stop watching... it's awkward..."

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

First training was about practicing with the balance of the ODM. As he could see, Jean and Marco were doing great— but Eren... not so much. The brunette was upside down with an horrifying expression plastered on his face. It was obvious in [Name]'s eyes he was utterly embarrassed and horrified of what was just happening to him— [Name] could only watch in worry as everyone around let out snickering comments about his friend's state as the instructor yelled at him.

"Cadet Knight! It's your turn!" One of the instructors shouted, turning to see [Name] already coming his way, watching his friend in worry. He got in place, one of the cadets placing the wires on his belt. [Name] tried to not tense too much, but as soon as the cadet began to lift him in the air, [Name] couldn't stop feeling so... uncomfortable. He couldn't get used to it as quickly as Mikasa did— it was so... tight. He couldn't stop staggering around, much to his dismay. And to top things up, a migraine was appearing, making it more difficult than it already was.

Nevertheless, the teenager tried his best to not fall. But it was clear the practice was difficult to him.

"You just barely made it," Shadis spoke to him, "you better change your pathetic attempt or you are leaving along with cadet Jäeger!"

Hearing the yells, Eren, who was still upside down, looked besides him to see [Name] having trouble too. He just grew more worried about the future in the military— their future. What if one of them had to go and couldn't see each other again?! He wouldn't allow that!

I̷̡͎̱̭͙͎̠̒̎̍̌̈́ͅ ̴̨̘͍͖̘̼̲̐͑͐̃̐͘͝͝͝͠t̷̨̆̎̽̃͆͂̚o̶̧̢̥͍̗̩͓̘̫̙̮͊̀͋̂͌̇ͅļ̴̧̨̱͉͔̭̬̘͎̣̈̐͋͆̒̎͑̊̆͗̚ͅd̴̢̧͕̟̫͕̲̙̳̬͎̣̥̓͐̕ ̵̧̼͔̠͔̗̞̋̽̿͌͌͑̔̓̇̓̆̽̓y̸̭̺̖͓͉̔͂͋̅́̑̈́͊̆̚͘̚̚͝ǫ̷̛̽̿̑̈́̈̒͘͠͠ǘ̸̼͖̝̬͖̮̥͕̈́̀̀͐̂̑ ̴̧̧̢͉͍̙͓͕̙̲̻̖͊̒̾̃t̵̛̯̦̋̈́̇͌͗̿͘̚͠ḧ̶̹̭̹̱̞̗̖̻͈̟̫́̋̅̑̒͗̽̔̇̚̚i̷̧͕̜̱̓̾̿͛̔̂̍̍̒̓̚̕͝s̶̨̢͕̺̻̜̤̬̑̌̍̏̃̎̚ ̴͓̒̉͝ͅb̸͎̲̜̓͊̏̈̋̊͑̈̄͑̊͜͝͝͝r̸̢̡̧͎͔̺̭̫̼̼̘͎̬̓ä̴̧͈͙̼̤͈̹͖̝̜͉̭͚̊͜ͅṫ̵̡̤̻̰̋́̓̽̕͘̚͝ ̷̢͖̭̪̮̻͇̤̦̘̩̹̅̿̈̈́̌͘͘͝w̷̧̛̱͈̫̙̲͖͉͖̲̘͓̳̉̑̔͊̅̍̿̚ā̴̡̧̻̬͖̫͇͎̃͑̽͜s̴̛̜̭̱̦̲̮͎̞̼̆̕n̷̢̧̯͙͉̫͖̠̙͙̰̙͍͐̈́̏͐̈́̆̇̑͝'̸̡̢̨̛̠̘͖͍͈̥͈̗̦̭̈́̾̾͊̄̓̚͝͝ͅţ̸͇̞̞̒͊͌̃͊̉͂̂̅̾̚͝͝ ̷͔͉̪̠͖̾̉̈͑̈́̋̐̍̓̚͜m̴̨̛ư̵̜̩̭̲̞̬͚̱̮͚̘̾̌͒̃̋̈́͋c̸̢̟̭͈̹͎̮̠͕̾͐̌̿͠h̶̦͖̟͇̻͖͓̮͔̝̖̫͔̄̓̆͒̂̀͌̊̍̚͠͝ͅ ̶̨̧͔̗̱̠̦̫͔̱̅̂ǫ̸̥̫̹̬̣̯͙̪̲͇̌͒̓͊̈́̊̽͒͒͘f̵̻͍̮̯̖̪̹̭̈́̏͒͗͗̊́̕͝ ̸̛̜̮͒͐̽̈́̈͆͌̉̐̽͝ą̶̠͎͉̟̟̜̭̜̥͓̾ͅ ̴̢̛̻͆̐̑̾̆̉̾̿̑̏͆͠͝h̶͉̞̉̏͘ę̷̬͇̟͙̬̭̹̺͉̺͖̦͖͓̓ľ̵̝̲̗̾̓͌̒ͅp̵̛̙̯͕̝̰̹͂̂̿̉̈́̈̇̒̎͘̚.̴̨̬̻̥̲̼̦̫̬̲͙͉͉͌̂̑̒̓̽̕͝

[Name] felt irritated. What was the issue with him? As it was an new thing, maybe he didn't get use to it right away...

"Don't worry, [Name]! I'm sure you will get it right next time!" Marco tried to comfort him with his precious smile, but [Name] was already in a bad mood. The frown made it quite clear.

"Well, seems [Name] didn't make it in the first try," Jean was surprised his friend hadn't made it the first time. But he could recognize the way he grit his teeth and frowned was because he was having one of his usual headaches. "Did your head hurt?"

Sighing, [Name] just nods as an answer, rubbing the back of his head. He couldn't deny hearing harsh whispers right on his ear, a voice that could have belonged to a man with a gruffly voice. [Name] didn't hear quite well what it said, but it got in his nerves nevertheless.

”Looks like Eren is having it worse...” Armin says, smiling awkwardly at his friend. [Name] can see the brunette still trying, but failing every time. It was not a great scene to see, less when everyone was looking at him in mocking way.

”Pff, and there goes “the weak have to go”, HAHAHA!” Jean jokes, laughing like a maniac. [Name] just sees him with an raised eyebrow, amused by such ridiculous behavior. Was he always this dumb?

[Name] sighs, passing a head trough his hair, ”guess I have to worry about myself...” Jean notices his irritation, and he hugs his shoulder and speaks in a weird tone.

”Heeeey,” Jean pats his head with his grin, “don’t worry— PRO Jean knows everything and you are in luck— I’m not charging you.”

[Name] snorts, “is that so? How nice of you.” Hugging his arm, [Name] rests his head on Jean’s shoulder, looking at him with a playful smile. This only breaks Jean’s facade, seeing his blush and stuttering.

Armin just sees with widening eyes and a blush, same with Marco. It’s... amusing seeing [Name] so lively, after being in a bad mood.

"I'm hungry. When is lunch time?" [Name] yawns, letting go Jean's arm. The migraine was still there, but less painful. He somehow had to bear with them as nothing else could help but a cold shower. Maybe he could go to the infirmary later to find anything.

Eren, who somehow finished his awful practice, approaches Armin but not before giving [Name] a weird look. The [hair color] haired stares at him silently, not sure what to say. It's obvious the air had become awkward— there's silence. The brunette frowns, pressing his lips into a thin line, seeming to decide not say whatever he was thinking.

"Let's go." It's the only thing he says, already walking away without Armin. The blonde waves at [Name] before leaving, sending an apologetic smile. [Name] just stands there with a frown, feeling upset once more.

Maybe I should have said something. He thinks, his expression changing to his dull usual eyes and crosses his arms. Sighing, he can't help but being angry at the situation.

The freckled boy can't help but notice the tension, and with prying eyes he looks at [Name]. "Hmn, is something wrong between you two?"

Jean snorts, "of course there is— that suicidal maniac is also a jackass."

"I want to sleep." [Name] states, already walking away. Jean grabs his wrist, pulling him back.

"No you won't! You have to eat dinner first!" Jean yells at him, “I can’t believe I have to be your babysitter!”

”I’m not making you," he pouts, "you are doing it because you want to."

The taller teenager just clench his teeth and grunt, a faint pink painting his face. This cute little shit—

"[Name]! Eating is important!" Marco says worriedly, "if you don't you will be more tired tomorrow..."

The sleepy teenager just sighed and gave in. Eating didn't sound so good when the food was that cold—he already missed his mom's cooking. When will they be able to visit their family?

The trio walked to the dinner hall, Marco and [Name] doing most of the talking while Jean just wondered.

Jean believed if [Name] lived by himself he wouldn't do anything but sleep one week if he could. That careless idiot! If I weren't here with him who would take care of him?! He knew one day he wouldn't be at his side once they graduate. The thought only upset him, squeezing [Name]'s hand for no reason. The amnesiac boy looked at him with curiosity, but squeezed back without a word.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

It wasn't a secret Mikasa was satisfied with how her brother was acting. She knew that day was traumatic— they lost their mother, their father was missing and they believed [Name] was gone for good, even if they didn't say it out loud. But getting angry at him wasn't justified. She knew Eren could get emotional even if he didn't admit it, but it was a clear his feelings controlled him most of the time.

"Eren, you know what you are doing is immature, right?" Armin tries to keep up with the fast speed Eren is walking— he looks troubled. Nevertheless, the blond tries to speak with in a soft tone.

Seeing his silent treatment, Mikasa frowns and speaks, "[Name] is hurt by what you are doing."

"Really?! And then why isn't he coming to apologize?!" He turns to see her angrily.

"For what?" She changes her tone to one much harsher, "he didn't leave us— did you look for him first when the colossal titan broke the wall?" Mikasa says with narrowed eyes, staring right at Eren.

The brunette shuts his mouth, not being able to answer. It was true— his first thought was his mom, not [Name]. But it was completely fine his thoughts were like that. He grits his teeth, turning to walk once more. "Whatever!"

"You will make things right— apologize. What you said to him was uncalled for."

”Eren... [Name] is here, with us.” Armin spoke, “there was a chance he wouldn’t be here— can you imagine that? You should be happy we are together again...”

The brunette grunts, looking as if he didn't care, but in reality, he certainly did. “I have more important things to do right now.”

The two friends look at each other, sighing. Eren could be a thick head when he wanted.

"Hopefully this won't be long."

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

As [Name] was changing to more comfortable clothes, he could see Eren (with a bandage around his head) desperately trying to get help with Jean and a kid named Connie. The [hair color] haired knew that wasn’t going work at all, seeing Jean not liking Eren one a bit.

Strangely, [Name] wasn’t too bothered by his horribly practice. At first he was troubled, but he deducted with a few more chances to get used with the gear he would be fine. He didn’t feel desperate— after all, Beatrice always told him that keeping a cool head was better.

”Maybe we can try tomorrow morning before practice,” Marco smiles, looking at [Name], "you can get used to it in no time."

”I don’t think I will wake up...” He scratches his neck, “maybe after dinner... but I will have to change again... ugh.”

”I can go with you to help, okay?" [Name] looks at him and nods, grateful. "Don't worry— I will try to tell you everything I know."

Jean approaches them with a smug smirk, obviously enjoying Eren’s suffering, “he must be so desperate to look for me to help him, pfft!” He can't hold his laugh, seeing Eren's face from afar. Jean turns to the two, still with his smirk, "anyways, how about you [Name]?"

”Ah, [Name] wants to practice after dinner!”

”Really? I don’t see you that bothered, tough.” Jean looks at [Name]'s neutral face— in fact, he didn't see him as worried as others were.

”Maybe I can get it right after a few tries,” he looks at Eren again, noticing he was with Reiner and Bertolt, along with Armin. Tilting his head, blinking with his dull eyes, he proceeds, “after all, being anxious won't help."

"You must be careful with your headaches. Seems they come around in the worst times."

[Name] sighs, "can't do much about that." He didn't know how well he could handle them in the worst scenarios— [Name] hoped they didn't make him leave training.

"Everything will be okay," the freckled teenager showed a warm smile, squeezing his hand. [Name] tilted his head, feeling warm. Strangely, [Name] felt shy. His face blushed and he averted Marco's gaze, and Jean absolutely catch the strange behavior.

Ayayayay— what

"Okay," [Name] scratches his neck, still with the cryptic spark on his eyes. Jean raises one eyebrow, suspicious. Never seen that expression before— [Name] has like... three expressions. What's he thinking?! "We should go to eat now. I'm hungry."

"Sure!"

As the three of them leave, Jean can't stop thinking at the weird thing just happened. That can't be— [Name] didn't even react the way I wanted to when he kissed!

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

[Name] noticed neither Armin nor Eren went to have dinner— they stayed with Reiner and Bertolt back in the dorms.

The amnesiac teenager looked at Mikasa, who was with other girls. Since Armin nor Eren are here... She somehow noticed [Name], waving at him with a small smile. [Name] returned the smile, waving along.

He sat down with Jean and Marco as usual, not really talking much. There was few other guys in the table, and he could only recognize Connie and Thomas, a blonde kid he saw around Trost a few times.

"Aah?" The bald kid speaks, stopping eating when he sees [Name]'s face closely. He got near [Name] from the other side of the table, supporting his hands on the wood, "never seen your eyes before!"

"I feel special," [Name] plainly says, eating his bread without much care. Jean snorts by it— since when [Name] jokes?

Connie blinks, realizing who he is, "hey! do you remember your mark?" [Name] blinks, completely forgotten about it.

"Ah, right," Jean takes something from his pocket— a folded paper. He opens it and shows it to [Name], who tilts his head to look at it carefully.

It's a simple drawing— it was a crown inside a perfect circle. No words or anything that he could recognize— just an imagine. This only made him sigh. Of course it didn't bring anything— nothing ever did.

"I don't know."

He doesn't hear anybody, paying more attention to the paper, as he touches the drawing. The touch only brings a heavy pain on his head, and there's only a strong voice speaking trough the static.

W̷͈̱͎͙͍̤͔͉̯̘̟̪͇̭͕̓̂͛̓͗̀͘̕͝X̷̢̛̖̯̰̫̌͛̾̅͂̏͘̕ ̸̨̡̡̰͈̺̻͓̩͔͚̙̅̂̈́̎͜3̴̖͍̫̪̌͛̈͊͝r̶̛̙̺̝̮̣͍̟͓̬̄̀̊͑ͅX̴̹̐̆͌̽̀̕̚͠ ̵̭̻̽͑̇̌̉̿̊̂̍̌̍t̵̥̖̼̮̙̩͈͗͛͗͋̍̌̇̄͛̍̃̋̚͜͝h̴̪̐̏̌͌̓͑̂̕2̵̠̠͇̮̰͈͇͋͜ ̸̧̡͍͙̠̦̬͕̟̻͖̟́̋͌̊̋̄̌̌͘K̸̢̨̥̘͖͙̜͎̹̜͎̰̘̈̀̽̄̎̊̐͒͜ȉ̷̭̺̝̈́̑ň̵͜g̶̺͇̮̑̾͜'̵̨͈̦̳̾̂̓̒̊s̵̢̨̝͙̜͕͙̥͕̣͔̝̤̬̒͋̂͑͒̑̈̈̓͒̀͑̂̑ ̴̲̼͚̲̘̱̫͔͍̩̰͍̓̊́s̶͓͚͐͂̐X̵̡̰͔̯̼̭̻̜̅̋̇͑͛͛͘.̴̭̹̹̳̲̩̃̾͐̓?̵̞̯̤̪̍̊̋̽͗̑͒͗̽͊̚͘͠d̷̡̘̜̯͚̱͕͍̮̹̭͆̒͐͑͛̃͗͘̕͜.̴̨̡̻̟̩̼̄̉̂͠͠

"[Name]?"

"Why does your head hurt a lot?" Connie interrupts Jean, noticing the usual pain [Name] gets. Jean just glares irritably at him.

"Migraines. I will never get rid of them, so I'm used to it."

"Wait— but how come you don't remember anything? Did you hurt your head?"

"Something like that." He doesn't seems to want to talk anymore, so he excuses himself to eat. Doesn't matter, as Connie looks like loves to talk and doesn't seem bothered by his silence. This allows [Name] to think about his now founded mark— did nobody ever see it before? Well, he didn't actually remembered someone looking as his back... was there? Frowning, he instinctively touches his shoulder, upset but happy at the same time. Well, at least I have another thing to be recognized with.

He feels a hand touching his'. [Name] looks up, noticing is Jean. "Hey, do you want to go now? Remember you have to rest." [Name] notices Marco is watching him too, waiting to leave. Nodding, [Name] stand up along with the other two, alerting Connie who only raises his eyebrows with the sudden move.

"Hey! Where are you three going?"

"None of your business, baldy," Jean answers as they leave, hearing Connie yell something to him. Just as they return to the dorm, [Name] can hear Eren's voice in the distance. He turns to the side of the forest, seeing faint lights entering it. Where are they going...?

"[Name]?"

He blinks, entering the dorms without seeing the forest one last time.

”Your straps are loosen up," Marco kneels, tightening them and reordering them, "done!"

"Geez, [Name]. You can be so careless most of the time," he sighs, scolding [Name], "anyways, ready?" [Name] nods.

[Name] has the same uncomfortable feeling as before, but this time he's prepared. He is lifted in the air as he tries his best to relax and not trash around— but there's a gentle voice right at his ear, but not the same gruffly one. This one is kinder, and he can actually understand what it says. He blinks, surprised.

Easy— this is nothing you can't handle.

The voices relaxes him, somehow. Is as if it's singing a lullaby— [Name] sighs, using his whole body to balance correctly this time. Just as Marco and Jean said, the legs had a principal role on balancing himself right. There seems to not be another issue with the gear, as he could see. The two boys saw [Name] working better with the gear, much different than his first try.

"Look at that— seems my great teachings have worked for you, [Name]." Jean smirks, placing his hands on his hips, feeling proud.

"Seems you just had to try a second time," the freckled teenager smiles, giving thumbs up. He helps [Name] getting off.

"I wonder how we'll do in the air," [Name] says, touching the ground. He couldn't wait for the next practice in a couple of days— strangely he felt ticklish by just the thought of flying. Just remembering the first time he saw the Survey Corps using the gear made him grin in anticipation.

"Now now, don't get impatient," Jean tries to sound 'wise', but in reality [Name] thought he sounded dumb as hell, "everything in time."

"Whatever you say, Jeanbo."

"Don't call me that!"

[Name] hides his smile, "mom?"

"[NAME]!"

Marco chuckles, "I'm glad you made it— let's just wait for tomorrow!"

When they walk back to the dorms, [Name] can't stop thinking at the kind yet familiar voice from before. Would I get the answers I'm tired to look for? Hearing the voice was calming, just like hearing Beatrice. It was a weird resemblance, but spot on, somehow. I wonder what she's doing.