Chapter Text
1
“It’s not working out anymore. I think it’s for the best if we go our separate ways.”
Despite these, and four whole years that had passed since then, Armin’s heart still longs for the love of his life who escaped his grasp. Day and night, every single time the sun rises and falls, her face, voice, smell, her everything, would plague his mind. And although they had come to a closure upon formally ending their relationship, he’s not unaware of his own feelings. He never wanted it, and he’d like to believe that she felt the same way as he did. None of them were at fault, however. Only the situation that time was to blame, per se, as he and his teenage sweetheart Annie Leonhardt were very much in love.
So much so that they promised to tie the knot by the age of 25.
Alas, destiny had other plans for the couple, and the same cruel fate cut the thread connecting their hearts. Rather, “temporarily cut” in Armin’s words. He’s infamous for being meek and fragile ever since he was a child, but he was never the person to run away, even if he doesn’t fight back. Growing up, he carried the same type of bravado whenever faced by any predicament. And at age 19, he’s still determined to bring Annie back in his arms before their planned age of getting married.
Time is of the essence, he would always say.
“Hitch, wait!” Armin calls out to his friend, who’s already making her way back to her dorm room. Hitch sighs and rolls her eyes before turning on her heels to face the boy for the nth time that late afternoon. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Armin admits the mild accusation, which causes the other to groan twice in a row. It has been like this for the past few months, ever since Armin learned that her and Annie’s communication is very much healthy and active. He genuinely feels amoral for pestering Hitch (and seemingly using her at this point) to meet Annie once again, but she would disregard his pleas every single time. In turn, Hitch somehow feels bad, sympathetic even, towards Armin. As much as she wants to help him, she simply cannot break Annie’s trust.
Albeit sly and cheeky herself, Hitch is a wonderful friend to have and knows when to draw the line. In fact, she oftentimes shares Armin’s situation to Annie by the phone or when they meet in private. She thinks she can at least help him this way indirectly, yet Annie doesn’t seem to comprehend her intention. Or rather, she feigns ignorance at her attempt of bringing them together once more. Hitch is mindful of this, so she decides to remain neutral; however, this results in her walking on thin ice depending on whom she talks to.
Armin pulls out his phone and taps on the screen a few times before handing it over to Hitch. “Here, you can dial her number and I won’t look. Then you’re free to delete it after we talk. Just please, let me talk to her.” She takes the device, only to shove it back to his chest, catching Armin off-guard. Hitch may be apathetic, but she’s far from a fool. By this point, she’s already familiar with Armin’s feat and the extent of what he’s willing to risk, especially for the sake of meeting Annie, let alone hearing her voice.
“Oh, lover boy~” she playfully coos, but her voice quickly changes to her recognizable, annoyed tone. “No. I’m 101% sure you’ll turn the speaker volume on for a quick minute, then jot down or copy and paste her number on your notes before letting me delete the dialed number.” Armin’s sudden shift of behavior from desperate to dejected earns Hitch a triumphant smile on her face not because of his current condition, but because of correctly guessing his intention.
The young man accepts defeat for now, and puts the phone back in his pants’ pocket. “I understand, sorry for bothering you.” With crestfallen eyes, Armin adjusts his backpack before turning his back on Hitch, but she gently places her hand on his shoulder. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Armin. I think you’re a great guy for Annie, but we both have to respect her privacy. You know that, right?” He glances back at her and gives Hitch an indebted smile for making him feel a little less blue. As he retreats to his dormitory, Hitch enters her own room, knowing all too well what she and Annie are going to talk about on the phone from that time until midnight.
Two days later, Hitch agrees to meet up with Armin by the library and makes their way to the arcades. As Armin swipes his arcade card on a shooting game slot, Hitch proceeds to tease him. “Asking me out on a date again, Armin? I’ll tell Annie on you~” She takes her red arcade gun (which she insisted on using because it’s the closest to the color pink from the two choices they have) whereas Armin takes the blue one. “I don’t suppose I’d want that knowing that Marlowe can potentially crush my nose with a single punch in the face,” he snorts before pointing his arcade gun to the screen.
“So,” Hitch begins while blasting enemies to oblivion in the shooting game they’re playing. “What’s your big plan?” Armin does the same, but mainly focuses on shooting enemy units at point-blank range while Hitch takes care of the distant ones. “Well,” he takes a moment to reload. “Mind passing a message to her? I promise you it’s not long. It’s not even one whole sentence.” Baffled, Hitch raises a brow at him for a brief moment before fixating her attention back to the game. “What do you have in mind this time?”
“You’ll see.”
The pair continued to play other games in the arcade shop, such as the basketball game, pachinko, and even karaoke, to where Armin’s eardrums nearly bled to death from Hitch’s high-pitched screeching she refers to as “whistling” and “belting.” After spending productive time in the arcades, Armin and Hitch had a quick visit at a nearby bubble tea stall before making their way to the bus stop. This is when Armin finally requests for Hitch to relay a message to Annie. “Okay, ready?” he asks as Hitch readies her phone to take note of it. “Ready.”
“Golf club three holes strike 1102 2359”
Hitch gawks at him with her mouth ajar for a minute. When she sees and realizes that Armin is serious about the cryptic message, she merely shakes her head in confusion and takes note of it on her phone. “How sure are you that she’ll understand this?” she inquires, genuinely concerned for her friend. He gazes at the darkening sky, feeling a raindrop or two gently hitting his face. Unbeknownst to him, Hitch already sent the message to Annie in secret, sincerely hoping for the other to reply. “She will, I’m sure of it. But what I’m not sure of is if she’ll…”
Suddenly, Hitch’s phone beeps and a grin slowly creeps her face as she skims through the message. Armin sees a bus from a distance heading their stop, so he stands up and slings his knapsack over his shoulder. “Respond,” Hitch mutters, then pulls Armin down by the arm. “She’s asking when and what time, lover boy.” The bus arrives at their stop and the passengers begin to board the public transport, others growing concerned by the possible rain. Armin and Hitch, however, remain in their positions, with Armin’s ocean eyes, glossed over with tears, beaming with hope. “I-I… Annie… She...” He’s out of words, resulting in Hitch giggling at his current stupor.
Three honks from the bus are not enough to stir Armin and Hitch away from their excitement at the slightest, and after ignoring the fourth one (which is notably longer than the previous), the bus leaves them behind. The rainshower then begins to drizzle the two, yet neither minded. In fact, Armin is even grateful for the timely rainfall, using it as a disguise for his tears. “Er, would today be okay? At around 6 p.m. Let me just have my dinner— No, wait! Seven! At 7 p.m. today please, if possible. I-I’ll take her out for dinner. Please tell her she doesn’t have to have one. A-And make sure she brings an umbrella just in case, oh, and a coat, too. I don’t want her getting a cold, p-plus—”
“Hold your horses, Armin, you’re going to make me break my nails!” Hitch scolds, but sends his message anyway, though obviously not verbatim. Armin takes his seat beside Hitch again and wipes his cheek with his sleeve. Not long after, Annie answers. The blond looks at Hitch with hopeful eyes, and when she gives him a thumbs up and a wink, Armin nearly falls on his knees from joy.
10 minutes before 7 p.m., Armin arrives at a park, gazing at the lamp posts. “Huh, they added another one,” he mumbles to himself and examines its shape. He smiles at the thought that one of the pair of lamp posts didn’t change over the years. Armin reminisces the memorable events four and five years ago as he takes a seat on the bench. Thankfully, nobody else is present: the park is in a rare and secluded area where people normally don’t take notice of. It’s perfect, he thinks, as he wants nothing more but a peaceful and private time with Annie. He then hears the crackling of dried leaves underfoot, and when he turns his head to the noise’s direction, Armin jolts from the bench, his eyes widening at the sight not far from where he stands.