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The once cream coloured, neat apartment was now a riot of glowing lights and a cacophony of sounds and happiness. Not long ago guests had arrived at Erwin Smith’s Big Super-Duper Fun Happy New Years Eve Get-Together Bash . And now that the blond thought about it, he was sure letting Hanji be in charge of planning and decoration had been a mistake. Well, not really, but the event just had better have been as bash-like as she had titled it to be.
Of course there were various things to do around the joint living and dining room. His mahogany dining table had been turned into a beer pong table; surrounding it were their good friends Eren, Armin, Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt and Jean. At the moment, there was a Jaeger versus Kirschtein face-off which had been going on for around half an hour. The blue-eyed certified genius had been encouraged to get slightly... rosy cheeked and confident . Jean, Reiner and Eren had further influenced him to be the basis of a drinking game: every time he fucked up the ‘Nations of the World’ song from Animaniacs, the entire group of 6 (yes, even Annie) took a shot and the beer pong face off would immediately continue.
Erwin reckoned he’d know every single nation for the rest of his life if this kept up for another half an hour. That and he’d request for them to branch out in their choices of songs ‘only nerds know off by heart’.
In the second half of the room, in front of the television, sat another obnoxiously loud group who were playing a ridiculously competitive seventh Mario Kart 8 tournament. The freckled and black haired member of the party was close to getting square eyes and the phrase “Shit, I wanted to be Yoshi” was starting to grate on Levi’s brain; it was almost as if the hairless one was looking for a good round of ‘smothering irritating people with yet another decorative cushion ’ later.
It was a surprise that Mikasa was actually playing though. And her older cousin took great joy in seeing her get increasingly frustrated, as her loss rate rapidly increased. The raven haired woman looked as if she was going to turn the Wii U into a Nintendo Switch by snapping the game pad over her knee.
Finally, the final huddle could be found a few spaces on the sofa away from the virtual karting competition. The host and his ‘subordinates’ were huddled in the corner of the room. Erwin sat on the end of the sofa, leaning back comfortably and beside him was Hanji with her feet up on the couch chatting away about 'how beautiful space looks and how much more beautiful the function of every part of the solar system is’. She was leaning on Levi, the only separation being - guess what - a decorative cushion . To make it worse, he was jammed in the corner seat with Moblit on the other side of him, who was frantically trying to shush the crazy lab assistant.
The stoic male wondered why he even agreed to help plan it, nevermind why he decided to attend in the first place. It wasn't like he was surrounded by people he hated because even if they did irritate him to the world's end and back they still put up with him all the same.
His eyes peered over towards the beanbag in front of his feet which the quirky redhead, Petra, sat in. She was smiling and laughing as she listened to Hanji's ramblings.
Having raised both eyebrows at Petra's amazing ability to care, or at the very least pretend to, his steel gaze shifted over to the giant 'lovesac’ (as Hanji had called it while enthusiastically ordering 3 without the consent of the party host) where Mike and Nanaba, an established duo of highschool sweethearts, were happily cuddling amongst the cavernous material. He had known them since middle school when they spent every day doing their dorkish act of 'anything you can do, I can do better’.
The Ackerman male’s suspicions about Petra's intentions were confirmed when she suddenly cut Hanji off and picked up the sparkly pink notepad which the latter had gifted her with upon arrival. Standing up, she grabbed the matching ballpoint pen.
“Alright, who wants drinks!?” She hollered just above the music, the TV, and all the people in the room. A chorus of cheers erupted from the room, causing her to smile. “Alright, Hanji?”
“What's that cocktail called…? Ah, yeah Death in the Afternoon please.” She said with a hand in Levi's face to display her one sided conversation was just on pause and he mustn’t interject.
“Are you sure?” Petra have the brunette the raised eyebrows 'are you crazy?’ look. She didn't voice that particular phrase because she already knew the answer.
“Hell yeah, it tastes like piss but I want to get off my face tonight!” She laughed. Yes. Yes, Hanji Zoë was as crazy as they come.
By the time Petra was done with the first group, her list read thusly:
Hanji - Death in the Afternoon (aka she is Miss Keisha bc oh my fuckin God she fuckin dead)
Levi - Snakebite (bc beer is boring af and unspecific)
Erweiner Erwin - The Goldeneye (but do I really have to put part of Spongebob's house in his drink though?)
Moblit - Fireball Whiskey (this boi is trying to kill himself. Hanji turned him into a member of the funny farm where life is beautiful, hasn't she?)
Banana Nanaba - Rossini (Omfg keep it cool. She doesn't know I hate making this one).
Scratch & Sniff Mike - Black Velvet (putting Guinness in it so his shit will be straight black. It's just a prank bro)
She moved over to the beer pong table and smiled at the stupidity.
“Armin, what you thinking?” She asked, shushing him and felt the strong praise from the other side of the room.
“Bees Knees, if you pleee~ease.” He sang, making the redhead taking his order immediately fucking lose it. She giggled while scribbling down the order.
Of course she was the only one to truly appreciate how cute and funny it was in that area, due to the fact that she hadn't even had a single glance at a shot glass. The other's, who'd usually tease him, were too far gone to find how funny it was, and they were barely tipsy.
“Eren?” Petra soon calmed down and moved on, having peeled herself off of the wall with a clearing of the throat. “What you feeling like right now?”
“Uh, a Chimayó cocktail, thanks.” He nodded, as if to confirm until she began to write it down yet again.
“O-kay… Jean?” She continued to go around the group, and her list continued to develop:
Armin Legout - Bees Knees (if you please. God that kid is so adorable)
Eren - Chimayó (he's only going to make worse decisions. RIP Eren)
Billy Jean is not my lover - Bacardi (they're all looking for a bad time tomorrow I swear.)
Reiner - Bruichladdich X4+1 whisky (at least he's specific about this one)
Bertholdt - Brandy (aw he said please and he's not trying to give himself an all day hangover)
Annie are you okay? - Spirytus Rektyfikowany (oh my goodness if she does not vomit and feel like death tomorrow, she'll prove she's a goddess or something)
She looked around at the 6 and thought of the sorry state they'd be in, but there was no way to talk them out if it. They were all too far gone.
Last of all was the group among the sofa and the two lovesacs.
“Alright, you lot. What are you feeling like?” The young, bubbly, ginger woman asked, while watching Mikasa bite the knuckles of her right hand trying not to kill the obnoxiously cheering winner, Connie, who sat beside her.
“Cold. Hard. Saké. A pint glass. Please .” Mikasa grumbled.
Petra took up her pen and held in laughter, while taking the order.
“Have you got any champagne, Petra?” Marco asked, only his head emerging from his giant bean bag chair.
“Hanji ordered about 10 bottles of Bollinger.” She nodded, with a look that could only be read as ‘thank goodness I'll get some of it used’.
“Well, I don't call her Hanji ‘Off The Rails’ Zoë for no reason.” Ymir chuckled smugly, only to receive a gentle slap from her blonde girlfriend.
“You've never called her that once on your entire life, Ymir. But yes, Marco, that seems like a good idea. A round of champagne please, Petra.” She grinned, reaching over and patting Marco on the head.
Ymir immediately tugged Christa back which caused the latter to playfully, but not gently, punch her in the shoulder.
Christa was dissatisfied to hear her lover's chortle, brushing off her defensive strike.
“Oh baby,” The freckled lesbian cooed as her shoulders shook, throwing her sore arm around her small girlfriend who seemed to be being absorbed by the lovesac they were sat in. “You're gonna give me a bruise!”
“I'll kick your ass, next race!” She scowled, hands on hips.
“Okay, Baby Peach.” Ymir teased, patting her head.
“Well. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the kitchen.” Petra chuckled.
“Wait, Petra, actually… I'll just have a Vodka and Dr Pepper.” Sasha piped up, before the other woman had a chance to turn around.
“Huh, why?” Connie asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You feeling alright?”
“Uh, yeah. I just want to actually remember what happens tonight for once, and champagne tastes like cat piss.” She shrugged, with a nonchalant smile.
“Ah, okay.” Her best friend laughed while ruffling her hair. “Trust you to be the awkward one, Sash’.”
“Eh, figures.” Petra thrust up her own shoulders in disregard while changing her list, of which ended with the following notes:
Mikasa - A pint of watered down Saké w/ a blizzard of fucking ice (Connie should probably let her win because second place is getting on her nerves)
Marco, Christa, Ymir, Connie, Sasha - Bollinger (thank fuck it's getting used or Erwin will kill Hanji for paying with her credit card)
Sasha - DP & Vodka (She might actually have the right idea: enjoying the night without getting shit faced)
Connie looked on as Petra disappeared into the hallway. His gaze drifted back to Sasha for a moment before Mikasa caught his eye.
Her pissed off expression sent a shiver down his spine and so he announced:
“Alright, I suggest for this next tournament we switch up characters and karts so the scoreboards look different because I am tired of being in first .” He said more sarcastically than he should have while glancing at the angry Asian woman, letting everyone else know of his intentions. They all agreed immediately.
He went from Donkey Kong to Light Blue Yoshi, Sasha went from Yoshi to Shy Guy, Mikasa went from Ludwig to Pink Gold Peach, Christa selected Rosalina having used Baby Peach on her entire Mario Kart experience, Marco chose Toadette instead of Luigi and finally, Ymir picked Waluigi instead of Bowser.
Christa laughed at her girlfriend’s choice. “Oh my god he's just like you! Lanky, sassy, stupid and indigo everything. Oh, and his hat is stupid.”
The freckled woman tried to retaliate. “Well, uh, that girl you chose is, uh, pretty cute…! Damn it!”
The blonde beside her only laughed at the failed insult.
Connie and Marco joined in with the laughter while Sasha sat quietly as she and Mikasa picked out their new car parts.
Petra soon came around with drinks, and settled down into her bean bag again.
“Guys, Sasha has barely said anything all evening.” Moblit mumbled below the noise to his clan, yet Mikasa’s hearing still managed to pick up the sound.
“Hm, that's peculiar.” Erwin nodded, sitting back, crossing one leg over the other.
“I heard she and Connie were up all night playing games online again.” Nanaba shrugged.
“Then how is he so lively and she all quiet and condensed?” Hanji leaned forward, raising an eyebrow, both hands on her knees.
“He probably got sleep, and she just thought ‘fuck it, head start’.” Mike shrugged, before pecking his fiancée's cheek.
“Yeah, that's Sasha for ya.” The blonde chuckled, leaning into him.
Soon, Petra strutted back into the room, trays on each hand and arm, and the cheers of her friends greeted her once more.
She gave out drinks and soaked up their appreciation like a sponge; at work she barely ever heard any of it, though she was the best damn person there and she knew it. No one else could mix drinks like she could. If they didn't believe her, the size and amount in her tip jar would be enough convincing. Even so, a verbal 'thank you’ still seemed so far away, but she would still appreciate it a lot.
As the alcohol was consumed, they all got wilder.
The party's planners got louder, the beer pong players got rowdier, and the Mario Kart players got more giddy.
This only seemed to increase after the second round of drinks. Although, as she was a little bit tipsy at the time, Petra may have adventurously added a little bit more alcohol to each drink.
At some point, Annie must have decided to let go a little, as she was now chatting up a hiccuping drunk Armin, at an obnoxious volume. As they say: more often than not, drunk words are sober thoughts.
Hanji had called it again; she and the redhead in the beanbag were squealing with excitement, their hands intertwined, and an a tiny to their cheeks that was reaching the colour of red wine.
Connie was knocking his elbow into Mikasa's arm, to try and irritate her, when he suddenly let out a laugh as Sasha let her character crash straight into a wall.
The brunette in question had picked up her phone and almost immediately exclaimed a rather loud, “Oh shit!”
Marco looked behind, still managing to play the game in the reflection of the mirror behind the couch. He cocked an eyebrow, as the corners of his lips curled downward in pure concern and discontent. “What's up?” His question was slightly slurred and his freckled cheeks were scarlet.
“I'm gonna have to go. I forgot to tell my dad that I was going to a party with friends tonight.” She sighed, swallowing a lump which rested in her throat.
“Why can't you just tell ‘im you're here…?” Ymir asked, prior to pursing her lips, and cocking an eyebrow down at Christa.
“He’ll flip because he's been planning this with me in mind.” She nervously chuckled.
The group exchanged nods, while she put on her old, battered and scuffed converse. Their now grey-brown laces were beginning to fray all the way along, making them an actual adversary to anyone but they're owner.
“Want me to go with you?” Connie asked.
“Oh no, you're having fun here. I'm not going to let my shitty memory make your year start off with my dad embarrassing us with stories of our stupid adventures as kids.” Her tan hand patted his shoulder, brushing off his offer.
“You and I both know I can't resist a try not to cringe challenge. I'd be happy to go with you.” said Connie, with the same dorkish grin he always wore around her. “Can I at least walk you-?”
Sasha cut him off, while squeezing his shoulder with a deathly grip. “To the elevator. You're not leaving the damn complex just to walk with me to my dad's house.”
“Alright, alright. I've never seen you so persistent before.“ He shook his head as she turned around to sort her bag out, leaving something in its place, and dropped it onto her spot on the couch.
The results were in for the next race and the bald boy just assumed her points total was so low because of the drink.
Sasha walked over to Erwin and the other's and explained her situation to an unusually jovial and red faced party host.
“No problem, Sasha. Get yourself home.” He chuckled, half of his hair in his eyes.
The brunette nodded and went around telling everybody ‘goodbye’ and to ‘have a nice night’, hugging them whether they liked it or not.
She got back to her spot on the couch, and threw on her hoodie, staring into nothingness. Having put on her messenger bag, and took her ponytail out of the strap, she tapped her best friend's shoulder gently.
“You going then?” He asked, standing up, and receiving a nod.
Petra suddenly approached her, with a bottle of Bollinger. “Hey, take this to share with your dad, and so Erwin doesn't throttle Hanji for having ‘pointless debt’.”
Sasha took it with an oddly small smile, and put it in her bag.
“Uh, goodbye then, Petra.” She nodded.
“See ya, call me sometime tomorrow, yeah!?” The ginger giggled.
“Yeah, sure. Don't miss me too much.” Sasha waved as she left, Connie following her like a lost puppy.
“Hey, you don't have to feel bad about leaving.” He muttered as he shut the door behind him and watched her worn down converse shuffle along the floor.
“Well, I just feel like I've ruined it, ya know.” She shoved her hands in her hoodie pockets.
“Did anyone say they had an issue with you going?” He asked, while catching up with her, his bare feet thumping under his heavy steps and his black and green pajama pants dragging along the floor.
She had had heard that material scrape against every surface known to man. After all, she bought him the set they came in. He'd lost the T-shirt part of it to his younger brother, Martin, last year, the day he moved out, but he had worn the pants to death. Sasha was the only one who he trusted to sew them up whenever he managed to put a hole in them, no matter where; he knew anyone else would just put them in the trash. But not Sasha.
For whatever reason, he was attached to them, and so, she did whatever she felt necessary to make them more wearable again.
“No.” Her response was empty and short. Though she often did answer questions with one word, her tone didn't really sound like anything. You couldn't read any kind of emotion from it.
“Well, let me drop some Springer family knowledge on yo ass. My mom always says ‘Those who mind don't matter. Those who matter don't mind’. So, we're all your friends and we don't mind.” He smiled brightly, even wondering himself how he remembered that.
“Okay,” said Sasha pressing the elevator button only once. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Not a problem.” He said, shooting her some finger guns.
They stood unusually a half a metre apart, their idle chatter both making her feel as worse as she felt better. He had always been good at comforting her, without going beyond her limits, no matter his level of drunk or sober.
They heard the elevator eventually rising up to the floor they stood in.
He turned, and raised his hand for her to 'punch it in’, as they always did when they had to part.
Instead she pulled his fist forward, so he fell into her. Her thin arms wrapped around him, loosely.
“What's this for?” He asked, with an utterly confused tone and expression.
“This is the last time I'll see you...well, this year, you know. I thought I'd spice up our dank memes a little.” Her voice was muffled into his t-shirt.
He chuckled, giving into the unfamiliar action, and enveloping his best friend in a tight short hug. “See ya next year, Sash’.”
She nodded and slowly let go of him, before stepping into the elevator.
“Goodbye, Connie.” She smiled softly, watching his not entirely sober form sway left and right.
He waved until the doors shut and wandered, with the same heavy footsteps, back into Erwin’s apartment, where he flopped down on the couch to find that in his absence the beer pong game had ended and all who were involved were watching Marco play The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild .
“She gone?” Eren asked, with the same swaying motion as most others around them.
“Yeah. Hugged me for whatever reason,” shrugged Connie, sitting back as Reiner started patting his head as if the no hair zone was some form of bongo drum.
Christa was running her finger along the floor absentmindedly, as she watched Marco fight what Jean (who lay with his head in his freckled boyfriend’s lap) was calling the ‘Divine Beast Robot Humpy Camel’, though she didn't really know what it was really called.
“AGH! FUCK! SUCK MY FUCKING DICK DUDE! SUCK MY ASS ! THIS SHIT IS IMPOSSIBLE!” The freckled boy suddenly burst out in rage as his character, Link, died.
“Babe, I'll do that for you if you want.” Jean chuckled, and patted his knee.
“NO JEAN, NOT RIGHT NOW!” He yells soon falling into the horse-faced boy, cackling.
“Round numero tres is here you guys!” The redhead hollered over all of chaos, the cheer that followed becoming the new normal to her in one night, only for her to return to work and the ignorance of a small meaningless 'thanks’.
“For fucks sake, Marco, do something easy! Stop repeating yourself,” yelled Jean, through his laughter.
And so they found themselves watching Marco completing dungeons that were only a little easier to beat. And because he was such a little completionist, Marco refused to leave any chest unopened. He had to get everything.
Christa's hand continued to create patterns on the carpet until her nimbly moving fingers ran over something. Paper. And when she really looked it was an upturned enveloped.
Ymir was too invested on Marco's odd drunken rage, and how it came to be from such a gentle character, to really notice anything the small blonde was doing.
Miss Lenz picked it up and turned it over, to find that it read 'Connie’ in beautiful cursive. She put two and two together, having realised that it was in the space where Sasha's bag had once been.
However, she waited for that oncoming jingle of a chest being opened in the game to hold it up.
When it sounded, she accidentally threw it up into the air and it floated back down to hit her in the face.
“Ta-da!” She announced as if hitting herself with it was intended. “It was where Sasha's stuff was and look at the name on it~.” She held it above her head triumphantly. “It's for you, Connie~!”
“Wuh? A letter? That's not Sasha's hand writing. Hers is like...spider scrawl.” He recounted, not believing his best friend had the patience to sit and write a letter - to him, no less.
“Well, if you don't believe it, you might as well open it. It has your name on it.” Ymir shrugged, putting her arm around Christa and pulling her closer once more.
“I...I guess? I dunno.” He shrugged.
Mikasa facepalmed before silently pushing him toward the bathroom door. “Just read it already.” She told him.
The raven haired girl had her reasons for doing what she felt necessary. Mikasa knew they had been best friends since elementary school, and though she wasn't there to watch their bond tighten until high school, it didn't matter. It was so clear to everyone who saw them that they could never be separated and nothing could come between them. And nothing did because they worked on their friendship, though it was through entirely unacceptable jokes and stupid situational 'what ifs’, they always made sure they were okay.
Connie quietly entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, leaving an awkward silence behind him.
It took Levi only a few seconds to break it with a snarky remark. “And here I thought Braus was illiterate.” He said, with a nonchalant tone and shrug.
Petra kicked him in the shin and Hanji punched him in the arm immediately, defending their forever hungry friend.
“Hey!” The redhead said with a flat-out offended look. “Leave her alone.”
“Yeah, besides Christa, Nanaba, Petra, this could be that confession you've been looking for.” Hanji suggested with a small shrug and a large, toothy grin
The four immediately started squealing excitedly, only for Reiner and Ymir to begin cheering at the mere thought of the two hopeless cases finally getting together and becoming one joint, bigger and more hopeless case.
Connie pushed himself up onto the bathroom counter before swinging his legs side to side, staring at the cursive inquisitively.
Was this really from his best friend? It must have been the case as the only other candidate who he was certain wrote in cursive was Mikasa, and she had no true reason to address an envelope to him.
He breathed out a sigh to express the bewilderment, confusion and anxious feeling writhing around in his guts, while the nail of his right thumb under the messily set red wax seal.
He was about to peel away the seal but suddenly noticed the detail, having brushed his index finger across it. Within a circle was the fancily printed initials of his best friend.
S.B. Sasha Braus.
He carefully pulled the seal, along with the opening tab, up and shakily took the neatly folded sheet of lined A4 paper from within it.
He drew in a sharp and sudden breathe unfolding it, before looking at the nervous boy in the mirror, trying to calm the gusts of anxiety within him.
He returned his gaze to the paper and sighed out, before beginning to read it in his head.
To my dearest, Connie,
This hurts. It hurts more than any graze on my knee. It hurts more than losing my mom. It hurts more than leaving high school and having to face the real world. It hurts more than anything that I've suffered with throughout the years. 'It’ is writing you this letter.
You never saw it, I know. I didn't want you - of all of the people in the world - to worry about me. You deserve to be happy. And it kills me to think that the last thing I will ever do is make you sad. Or at least I think it will.
I'm so sorry.
Midnight. When the clock strikes twelve. I can't do it anymore. And so, it has to stop.
You don't know how much it hurts to miss the girl I used to be. I have grown. My dreams died a long time ago. I should have too.
So, what better way can you think of to end the year than to end my life, right?
Sometimes I get so sad that it gets hard to breathe. Why not stop breathing for good, right?
I disappoint myself. I've slashed myself more than we used to slash your annoying neighbour's tires. At first, I promised myself that I'd never do that, and I'd get better that way. But...fuck it. I couldn't stop myself. I'm numb to the feeling now. I deserve to feel it, because I'm telling you this. I deserve pain because I'm making my best friend feel fucking awful. Well, I’d like to think you will. In some twisted way.
I'm sorry, but laughing it off isn't on option anymore. And I couldn't admit it to you, no. I'm afraid you'll see me how I see myself. I hate myself. Do you hate me too?
I feel alone when I'm in a room full of people that claim to love me. Am I selfish? Am I awful? I think I am. I bother you all by being alive. I'm a burden, and I don't want to be a burden anymore. I don't want to be that girl.
Perhaps I should get to the point before I get to the harder part, huh?
Well, I realized that I have stopped living life, and all I am doing is fighting through each day to get to the next. All I'm doing anymore is waiting. Waiting for it to end. I just want to stop having to fight, and I know no one would ever fight for me. And that's okay. I'm okay with that.
I'm sick of fighting through the cycle of going home and looking into the mirror, only to then cry, ridiculously. I'm ugly and fat and stupid. And I'm sick of it because until the day I give up, it will be the same horrible, mundane cycle, over and over again. I don't want to feel like this.
No one cares unless you're pretty or dying. So, is there pity for the plain girl?
Why the fuck am I falling apart now? I was okay for the longest time.
What a way to live. Afraid to live, but afraid to die. What a way to live.
Don't get me wrong, Connie, you're my best friend. It's not your fault. You made my time on earth so much more bearable. I wish you knew I was lying when I always said I was happy. Because you can't save me now. I'm too far gone.
Okay, you're my best friend. But lately, I've wished for a little more. I wish I could have told you exactly how much you mean to me in my life, Connie. I wish I could have told you that… I love you, Connie. I love the hell out of you. Every step away from you, the harder it is. But I have to go. I partly wish I could have told you everything to your face.
I'm a coward. That's what it comes down to. I'm a fucking coward.
I hope you never read this, and you move on and meet the woman of your dreams. I hope she's perfect. I hope she's smart and pretty and funny and truthful and open about her feelings and her mental health issues. And I hope she loves you so much more than I ever could.
I wish two pieces of paper, connected with fucking tape could go on forever but it can't. I wish I could stay with you in the land of the living, but I can't.
No. I'm ready now. I see it now.
I'm ready to die, and end it.
Goodbye, my friend.
All my love even after the end,
Sasha Braus.
Connie's parted lips quivered and his sodden cheeks were freezing now. He suddenly let out a sob of anguish.
He suddenly sobered up in the face of death. It all made sense now.
She couldn't have went to her dad's party because:
- He hated an over crowded house.
- He also lived four states away.
And then what she had done hit him in the face like a brick wall. Sasha had hugged him, and had said not 'see ya later' or the usual Alaska Thunderfuck 'baaaiii’. No.
She had bid every single one of them, even Levi, 'goodbye’.
He remembered her words clearly now, and they continued to echo around his head:
This is the last time I'll see you…
Goodbye, Connie.
And just like that, she was gone. And there was nothing he could do to save her. He could never say...
Wait. He lifted his head and brushed off his cheeks. What time was it?
He looked took his phone out of his hoodie pocket. 10:54pm.
He still had time, but was it enough?
Without any second thought he burst through the bathroom door and ran to his shoes in the corner the room.
“Wh oa ! What's the hurry? You ready to confess to her or somethin’, huh? You know you have her number, right? Just call her!” Hanji drunkenly slurred, laughing.
However, she immediately shut her mouth and squeaked in fear as Connie turned around and smashed his fist into wall, before letting out a huge sob.
“SHUT UP!” He wailed, loudly and pathetically, tears flooding his cheeks and chin. “DON'T MAKE FUN OF THIS! IT'S NOT FUNNY!”
“... What's wrong?” Moblit dared to ask as they watched him panickedly wrestle with his beat up sneakers.
“She... SASHA'S GOING TO KILL HERSELF! MIDNIGHT! I NEED TO...I need to help her.” He said in a distressed tone, sobbing to himself.
Marco paused his game, and they all looked around.
The happiest girl they had ever met was going to...end her life?
“I-It was… it was a suicide l-letter…” He mumbled, sullenly, tears blocking up his view as he hurried to tie his laces. “She… Here… Just fucking read it.” He mumbled forcing the letter into Petra's hands.
The redhead nodded.
“Connie, catch.” Reiner said, throwing the sobbing boy his inhaler, knowing fine well he wouldn't see the practicality in getting the bus, even though Sasha lived far from here. “Just…go and get her… please .” He could already feel himself sober up as he remembered how she had been hinting to it all night, and no one could see it.
There was no time for waiting. As soon as he slammed open the apartment door, he fled the dimly lit hallway and began his painstakingly long decent down to the bottom of the complex. And although he ran at his fastest pace, the man still had plenty of time to admire the structure and colour scheme of the unfortunately long staircase: around the inside, the railing was painted black and each vertical bar had a few centimetres between them; the stairs were pasted over with a grey granite pattern, and each step was finished with a metal strip.
He was reminded of some form of insane asylum. The same scenery with every flight he seemed to soar down led him toward some form of restless insanity; he didn’t see an end. Not like she did. White walls had never been so hellish.
Not only that, but he was never the wisest soul (that, he could privately admit to), having decided to run to his friend’s aid although he was terribly asthmatic. So, for a while now, his chest had began tightening in the worst way imaginable, making it seem as though the walls were moving inward, toward his breathless form.
One could never imagine the wave of relief he felt as he reached the bottom of the staircase, seeing natural light for the first time in five minutes, while he kept up the same pace and took a triumphant 10 seconds to take in some oxygen from his inhaler. It was a blessing he even had it with him. Thank God for Reiner.
Yet, this beacon disappeared as he shoved the door from his path, continuing into the dark and simmering Californian night. Usually, the sound of the door hitting the wall beside it made the olive eyed man jump and get embarrassed. If he had looked back, he’d have seen chipped and cracked white paint in front of a long engravement of the door handle. But there was no time for any of that. No, he had to get to Sasha.
He jogged with the biggest strides his 5’2” stature would allow, while he rose his gaze from the cracked tiles of the pavement and up to the witching hour’s perfect matte black sky, foregrounded with the sparkles of stars and a state’s worth of LED signs and street lamps.
He was reminded of the night he met Sasha. She was in the playground near their houses, and he was the new kid, deciding to go and see what he could find in the concrete jungle while his family slept. He came across something much more worthy than any treasure: Sasha Braus. They were seven years old on that fateful day.
He had found her dressed in a white blouse, with a black bow encompassing the collar, a midnight black, pleated skirt, tights and faux-leather Mary Jane shoes of the same shade. Her brunette locks were tied into neat pigtails on either side of her head, and at that time she didn’t have her staple bangs either.
He could remember rocking up to her in a blue t-shirt, tan khakis and beat up, snide converse with a grin, only to suddenly freeze upon not receiving the same emotion back, within her glance. Her deep brown eyes boasted an unfathomable sense of melancholy, and her lip occasionally twitched below her sodden cheeks.
He remembered almost falling on his face after pushing himself up on to the swing beside her, claiming that he wouldn’t leave until she was happy again. Despite his best efforts, what she explained to him, he wasn’t able to fix in the long term. And her words were as clear as day in his head, every time he remembered it:
‘ I don’t get to see my Mommy anymore. They put her in a big wooden box and dumped her in a deep hole. Daddy said she’s not coming back… I just want my Mommy to come back… ’
And just like back then and every subsequent time his mind wandered to that moment, Connie could feel tears prick at his eyes, like a crack in the wall of a dam. If he burst out into hysterics, he would shorten his already scarce asthmatic breaths so much so that he would end up collapsing. So, with that thought in mind, he sped up and pushed back the flood gates as far as they would go.
He had said he wouldn’t leave until she was happy again all those years ago, and Connie was going to stick to that promise for as long as he lived. Now, he would lose himself entirely if he lost Sasha. She was part of him now, and neither one of them could stop that.
His calves and feet were ground to a fine pulp by now, but he still had so much distance between them; his breathes weren’t going to continue for much longer. He’d be convulsing on the floor faster than he would get to Sasha’s apartment, but Connie was stubborn, and his ass would die for this young woman.
He struggled to choke up a few struggling breaths as he let his tears flow once again, the wall of the dam bursting open. The images of all the times she had hinted to what she was about to do within the last two months entered his mind without even knocking first.
And he wailed.
And he sobbed.
And he panted.
And he tripped.
He fell forward, flat on his face, sobbing into a tile of concrete. He didn’t care. Sasha was gone. He couldn’t make it, even with his inhaler. His hysterics had just begun as he pounded at the ground in front of him, feeling useless and alone.
But, someone was there in his time of need.
A hand touched the centre of his back, as a familiar accent reached his ears, if a bit raspy compared to what it had been back then.
“Springer?! What’s gotten into you?! Last time I heard from you, you were snorting Oreo crumbs at the lunch table on your last day of senior year! What’s happened?!”
Connie’s face dropped and he slowly raised his head to meet the familiar face. “Mr Hannes?!”
“What’s wrong, son?! You sound awfully distressed.”
“No, shit! Sasha’s gonna to kill herself and I can’t save her!” He stuttered between sobs.
The man’s thin gaze massively expanded, and his jaw dropped. Sasha had always pulled stupid stunts, but never stunts as grand as this. “Aren’t you fucking lucky I keep a spare helmet on me at all times. You can’t give up on her so soon.” He said, offering the bald younger a hand, while gesturing to his decent-branded, black motorbike, and the two helmets on the back seat.
Connie jumped up and hugged the former janitor. “Thank you so much, Hannes!” He had said between a sob before drying his eyes and taking one of the helmets.
They were on the bike, helmets on in mere seconds, and Hannes started the engine. “Still got those tattered pants, son?”
“Yup. Don't think I've washed them in two months and there's seven new holes in ‘em.” Connie admitted with a faint chuckle. “She lives in the apartment block on the very west of the city. You know, where we grew up together.”
“After all this time?” Hannes asked, with a faint smile breaking through his determined stare.
“Always. I promised I'd never leave her back then, and there will be no acceptions now.” Connie mumbled, with a quivering bottom lip.
“Connie, you'd better hang on tight. I'm willing to break speed limits for this girl. You tell her that, right?” The ex-janitor nodded, swallowing his own sadness.
“I will. I promise.” He muttered latching onto Hannes as he turned in to the back street and sped up massively.
Hannes was more than happy that he could help in the two kids’ time of need. He knew that his knowledge of all the back roads was useful, even if it was only needed once.
Connie didn't care how illegal this was, to be going at a breakneck speed in the pitch-black darkness of night. He only cared about Sasha.
Time went so slowly when you needed to be somewhere important. He had no clock, analog or digital, to look at which made it worse. Once midnight hit, it was all over.
Even the night sky that hung over the city reminded him of her. He fondly remembered them both jumping up at the sky on his driveway, trying reach the moon and steal it from above. His mother teased them both all the while, half convincing them that they could do it and that they were almost there. It wasn't very hard to convince them, though. They were only 9 years old.
He recounted the sophomore year homecoming dance where he'd worn her dress and she'd worn his suit because it was freezing she was too anxious to go through with it. And instead of dancing and making a fool out of themselves in the gym, they lay in he middle of the football field, talking about what they wanted to do when they left school, amongst other things. And how she threw her ponytail over his head and claimed he had a very disappointing mohawk-quiff-thing. He was the fairest maiden in all the land, Zelda, and she was the brave hero, Link.
Yes, that reminded him about how they spent all day playing Zelda, Mario and Pokemon during weekends, from the age of 8 to 17, where they began to branch out in the franchises and activities they wasted their time with.
School celebrations were wastes of time as they had no pride for the place, and therefore often tried to spend as much time in only each other's company. It was better that way.
And to think that all that could disappear in the blink of an eye…
The wind whistled past his ears, the aggravating sound muffled by the helmet on his head. It was the same wind that made him aware of the 3 - possibly four - holes in the soles of his converse.
Time was of the essence, but the universe decided to make it hell for the boy, making seconds seem like millenniums passing by with perfect leisure.
The night was still, yet Connie left every air particle as restless as he felt. His mind rushed from thought to thought, feeling to feeling.
“Connor Springer, you listen to me now, boy.” Hannes began, to fill the silence, the bald head rising behind him. “I'm so proud of y’all, you know that? But especially yourself and Sasha; I never thought you'd be as close after you left school. But here you are. Also, tell her the person she wants to talk to is Carla Jaeger.”
“Eren’s mom?” Connie asked, staring at the back of the ex-janitor’s head. “Why?”
“She struggled with it too, between Grisha, Honoka and myself, we got her through her life. The poor girl scraped by for so many years, in school, before she got married, when she had Eren and everything in between. The only reason he doesn't have an official sibling is because Carla feared doing something like that would upset him, with him being so difficult as a kid, and wanted to try and be perfect for him.”
“I already thought she was cool, but, man… What an amazing lady. Now I feel bad for her every time Eren had a giant slumber party with us. I can't even begin to wonder how she feels when he argues like that…” Connie thought aloud, nodding slowly into the older man’s back.
“Yeah, don't think you can't talk to me any time you like, either, son. I would say to go to Grisha but… he was never really good at comforting people. That and, even now, he's still a very busy man,” explained Hannes, smiling softly.
“Yeah, I know.”
They came to a stop at some traffic lights, and the young man pursed his lips, balling up one of his fists slightly.
He checked his phone again.
3 snapchats from Christa, 5 texts from Petra, 1 text from Reiner, 8 missed calls from Jean, 22 messages from Eren (had probably been spamming the same thing over and over without even realising) and 4 help requests on Candy Crush from Mikasa. It made him smile a bit, knowing she'd literally downloaded it to get in contact with him, but he couldn't respond yet, he didn't have the answer to their concerns or his own.
Then his eyes moved upward, only to see the definition of panic under the cracks of his screen.
11:40 pm.
“Hannes!” He yelled. “We can't afford to get caught by lights again.” A sob shook his entire body. “Twenty minutes…and it's all over…”
The older man pursed his lips. There was a cop car right behind them. He couldn't just run a set of lights. Where these lights broken, or something?
He found himself internally chanting “come on” and “go” until they lights had become green, wasting 5 minutes of their time. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing them go green, as soon as they went amber, he zipped off ahead immediately.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
“C'mon!” Connie felt himself erupt. “This is it. Fifteen minutes. Hannes! I need to be with her!”
“I'm trying kid. There is a cop car over there. If I get one more point on my li-” He didn't get to finish his sentence.
“I really don't care about your fucking license, okay! Sasha's life is worth more than the fine! Honestly!” Connie had yelled.
Hannes’ hands had quickly become clammy. Of course he wanted to get there on time; Sasha was a good kid. But he was unemployed and in a lot of debt right now. If he was off the road because of a points-related issue, he would either be avoiding the payment, or if he was without a choice, he'd be out of money. What would he do then?
“Hannes,” the kid had sobbed again. “Eren's parents will help you! You're helping her, me! This is the most noble thing you have probably done to date.” He knew he was rambling out of pure determination. “Hannes! Please! If you're gonna do one thing right for the rest of your life, let it be this. I can't let her go! Not yet. Sasha is my best friend! I love her!”
Hannes had to make a decision.
*****
The bottle of bollinger was more than half empty by now. Two bottles of Bulmers already stood opened and empty in front of her. She sat on the floor of the television, watching a new year's countdown show to pass the time. It wasn't actually a distraction, no, it was a way to make sure her timing was precise. At 11:58, she would get onto the couch.
It was beaten up and second had, but it was all she could afford back then. When she was a little girl, she dreamt of being many things - most of which her mother would just laugh at, for instance, she dreamt of being the family couch.
Mom. A word that felt like home. She would join her up in the landscape of clouds, with a ray of light, both from the sun and moon, to grace the face she and her father both still mourned.
Ha, stupid Connie. Believing that she was going to her dad's place. How very gullible. How very Connie .
‘No,’ the brunette had thought, throwing the remote down onto the floor and shoving her hand into a huge bag of cheetos. She had to have some food to last her. It wasn't like she could order a pizza with that thing hanging in the middle of her living room, so this was the best she could have done. ‘Forget him. Forget them. All of those memories were nothing more than that: memories.’ Moments in a frame. Times long gone. And there was no time for that.
She cracked her neck and leaned forward. What time was it?
God, was she really checking again? She was going to do it either way but apparently she suddenly cared about accuracy. It was the type of accuracy she had wished for while trying to do the whole ‘missingno. glitch’ thing in pokemon red with Connie.
No, stop that. No. Bad Sasha.
It was 11:57 pm.
Well, time to do it. Fuck it, head start. She switched off the TV and wobbled a hell of a lot as she stood.
She really hoped the bitch of a landlady found her. It wasn't her fault, no, but she didn't help. And, besides, the old lady probably was going to be the first to find her. After all, she came in unannounced to do apartment checks every week. That would teach her for pulling back the shower curtain to complain about a pair of sweatpants on the floor.
Well maybe it wasn't the type of acceptable payback anyone else would offer. Seriously though, fuck her. Sasha wouldn't be here to suffer those consequences.
She ended up having to crawl along the floor to get to the sofa. God, if she swayed too much, she'd die too early.
Managing to stand, the brunette stopped, listening carefully as she held onto the arm of the couch for fear life. Did she hear something on the fire escape? It was probably an assassin coming for the landlady.
She got one foot on to the couch cushion. There it was again. Look, it it really was an assassin, they were doing a really shit job. Maybe it was a raccoon coming to munch the cruel bitch’s face off.
Sasha moved her hands to the back of the sofa before getting her other foot onto the couch. Hurray! Little victories!
Seriously, that was a really fucking big raccoon and it was wearing cement romper stompers. Not to mention it was two floors higher than it should have been - it had missed the landlady’s apartment completely. Maybe the alcohol was clouding her judgement, but who the fuck gave a shit anymore.
Was she about to end it all thinking about that? Really? Nothing poignant?
She slowly turned around and stared it down. All of these silly thoughts washed away as she gently placed her hands on either side of the noose. The reality finally set in but she wasn't scared, no. The idea of getting to see her mother again was through that loop. It was tantalisingly close. She could imagine it morbidly. Her stone being right beside her mother's. Lisa and Sasha, together again.
As she looked into the ring of rope and studied the pattern she had intricately created just the other day, the clanging got louder until it stopped all together.
“I can't wait to hug you again, Mom. I miss you so much.” She tearfully smiled into the darkness of her living room.
The room went dead for just a moment or two before a fist brayed on her door. She hadn't locked it, but the security chain was on. A shrill cry of her name followed with more thumps.
“SASH’, PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!”
No. No, why was he here? She told him not to follow her. She told him goodbye. Why wasn't that enough for him?
Thud. Thud. Bang.
“Don't let me be too late. GODDAMNIT ALL, SASHA!” He was crying.
No, he doesn't care. Of course he doesn't.
“HANNES BROKE SPEED LIMITS FOR YOU! SO, YOU CAN'T GO YET! IT'S NOT YOUR TIME!” He interrupted his hyperventilation by huffing oxygen from his inhaler. “SASHA LISA BRAUS, DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME! I WANT TO HELP YOU, SO LET ME! LET ME HELP YOU.”
She had longed for her sweet release for so long that she couldn't understand how she hesitated when it was inches away from her. Aside from her swaying, she was stuck to the spot.
Out of all of the things he could be hurt by at this moment, including the skin-deep cut on his face he had acquired from recklessly jumping from the fire escape to the door of her apartment, he was hurt by the silent treatment.
He tried the door, thinking he was just an idiot to not walk straight in, and became surprised when it suddenly stopped opening.
The apartment was pitch black and all he could see was the light from outside reflected on the screen of his friend's TV. His eyes were red, swollen and damp, and he was scared that was the last state he wanted to see her in. But he needed to reach her, no matter what the outcome would be.
He knew he had noodle arms and not a single strong muscle in his body, but he couldn't just stand here. He wouldn't be a bystander anymore, he vowed.
She couldn't recall much more than hanging that shared the same steady rhythm of a throbbing headache.
After a while, he busted through the door, effectively snapping the chain, which sent him tumbling to the floor. Groaning, he rolled his shoulder, feeling pain coursing through it, while standing and shutting the door behind him.
Hesitantly, he shuffled to the doorway. There was only one way to find out.
Sasha's eyes were streaming, but she still peered through the rope's loop. No. Now she was torn. His heavy footsteps smack her carpet and his pj pants dragged along with each step. His breathing was rapid and he sniffled every few seconds or so.
He drew in a large, loud breath, before turning the lights on.
He shrieked in horror, before slowly walking toward her. He noticed that she was dressed in the same outfit as the night they met and, more importantly, she had put her head through the loop of the noose.
He didn't even have to think about it. Carefully, he climbed onto the coffee table, removed her hands from each side of the loop and took her head out of the rope, making sure to look in her eyes. Once that was checked off of his mental list, he helped her down from the couch and sat beside her on the floor.
“Sasha. I will never leave you, okay.” He said lowly, in her ear, as he had thrown his head over her shoulder.
“O…kay” She slurred out. For a moment there was silence before she spoke again. “Don't you haaate me for doing thisss? I hate meee for doing this.”
“No. Don't ever say goodbye to me again.”
Her lip trembled. “I-I'm sorry.”
“Sasha,” Connie said, putting his forehead on hers. “We all love you, so damn much. You're not fat; you're not ugly; you're certainly not stupid. You just need help… But the question is: will you accept the help.”
“Ye-eah,” the girl mumbled, the word broken up by a burp that reeked of drink and he did his best not to scrunch up his face. “I just wanted to see my mommy again.”
“I know you do. But, it's too early in your life… Look, I never knew your mom, but I still know something Sash’.”
“Just because you don't have your mom…it doesn't mean you don't have one at all. You have so many motherly figures because you're just so loveable.”
“Thankss, Connor. I love you…” Sasha smiled, closing her eyes and laying her head on his sore shoulder. But he didn't care. His best friend was alive, and he hoped he could help her toward mental stability. He would never let her go again.
*****
All at the same time, everyone's different notification tones sounded and each party goer eagerly rushed to check.
It was an image sent from Connie to their group snapchat. They were happy to find an image of the bald boy with a sleeping red faced Sasha laying on his shoulder. The caption read ‘Never been so happy to see her. Y'all continue drinkin. I'll keep you posted tomorrow. Night.’
Cheers rose and tears fell. This was their happy new year.