Chapter Text
I think it’s fair to say that Eren Jaeger was pretty well known at my school. Although, not in the good way – the exact opposite, actually. He was the school outcast, the one that never seemed to fit in; not even in the sub-cultural cliques that huddled together on the fringe of society.
I remember Eren always roamed the halls with this nervous gate, eyes averted to the polished floor just ahead, fast enough to avoid potential conversations but not enough to attract unwanted attention. It seemed to me that he had perfected the art of making himself invisible even before entering Maria High School; always securing a seat at the back of the class, keeping a low profile in the presence of people, and vanishing during breaks. But he didn’t always seem to succeed in his disappearing acts, for he was sometimes seen with a split lip or bruised face, limping to class in supressed agony, presumably from a few assholes who found beating vulnerable peers an amusing sport.
I probably should have felt sorry for the kid, because he was clearly going through a lot, but I simply couldn’t find it in myself to care. I doubt hardly anyone did, really. Maybe except Armin Arlert, my younger sister Mikasa’s best friend, who seemed to have an endless supply of shits to give about random people. He was definitely the type to work at soup kitchens and make friends at volunteer activities, or some other shit like that. I was first introduced to him when he was about seven or so, and frankly, he hasn’t changed much since then – both physically and characteristically. He still had the soft, expressive features of a pre-pubescent kid, and a childish blonde bob that swayed at the back of his pale neck. If you can imagine getting a ten year-old brat and stretching him vertically, that’s what Armin looks like. However, his intellect was another matter entirely. There were many life-times worth of knowledge and wisdom crammed into his head, and it was a wonder how he retained his innocent sympathy instead of turning bitter and cynical like the typical elderly you find loitering around bars all hours of the day.
But that was Armin, and that compassion was rare in the world I lived in.
The majority of the school population was simply indifferent to the existence of Eren Jaeger. He was just another blurred face that made up the image we had of our school, and only ever directed our attention his way when we though we may be served some brief entertainment. I had never even stopped to consider how pitiful he was, and probably never would have, if it weren’t for that one winter night that changed the course of my life in a way no one could have ever predicted.
I was splayed over the three-seater couch in front of the TV set, channel surfing dismissively after I’d skipped last period. It was a Friday afternoon and the classroom had no heating, so I saw no reason to freeze my arse off while doing nothing all lesson when I could do the same thing in the comfort of my own home. I would probably be scolded by my mum, but I didn’t care. Never did, and never will.
I could barely hear anything outside over the hum of electric heaters and droning voices from the TV, but could guess that it was fucking cold, and I spared a thought to pity anyone who didn’t have the balls like me to ditch their commitments for the sake of comfort.
Just as I had settled on an afternoon news program, I heard the front door creak open and the sound of multiple pairs of feet shuffling down the corridor carried itself to me. I assumed it was Mikasa that had come home with Armin, so stayed facing the television screen. I caught fragments of their hushed conversation, and realised that there must be someone else with them.
‘You two wait in the kitchen while I go get the first aid kit.’
‘Okay. Umm, are you sure you’re alright?’
‘Yeah, I’m more worried about you two.’
Curious as to whom the third party was, I craned my neck back just in time to see Mikasa emerge from the corridor entrance, soon followed by Armin and then…
Eren Jaeger.
I knew my usually stoic face betrayed the surprise I felt, but didn’t bother trying to tame it, because why the fuck was that kid being led by the arm through my house? He looked a bit shaken and his tan skin seemed tacky with sweat. I recognized his fidgety walk as the one he always used, though I got the feeling he was even more uncomfortable here than at school. His shoulders were hunched forwards and head bent down, making his messy mop of dark brown hair fall over his face more so than usual. I briefly wondered how he could even see in front of him with it covering his eyes like that.
I also cringed at the state of his clothes, all of which were too large for his lanky frame and dangled loosely in all their hand-me-downs glory. His jeans were faded and had tears that made him look even scruffier, not made any better by a wrinkled flannel shirt that’s sleeves reached to his fingers. The only thing that seemed to have any chance of protecting him from the frigid temperatures was an ancient looking brown jacket that I would have expected some ex-veteran hunter to wear on his expeditions, although it also succeeded in swallowing him up in its uneven fabric.
To me, he was the very image of a poor working class kid, and I felt I could understand why he must have felt so out of place. He didn’t hit in. He couldn’t. He was too far from the privileged lifestyle I led, and lacked the self-confidence to hold his head up when in the presence of others like myself. He was too conscious of his own standing and role in society, and I got the impression that he didn’t consider himself ever breaking free from those constraints.
For the very first time, I felt immense pity for the Jaeger kid.
Armin saw me first, and nodded to me in greeting as he led his guest right past me to the kitchen island. I noticed a reddish-purple bruise blooming across his temple and a fresh graze on his chin, which was unfortunately not an uncommon sight.
Ever since Armin was in pre-school, he had been the target of bullies and harassers pretty much non-stop. I didn’t know whether it was because of his studious nature or meek personality, but he just seemed to attract pricks like a selective magnet. But ever since he befriended Mikasa in primary school, these incidents reduced immensely. My sister and I may not be at the pinnacle of the social hierarchy, but there is no doubt that we have earned respect from students and teachers alike, and they all know not to mess with us if they value their lives. However, every now and again some filth will seep through our defences and harm those under our protection. But not once did these slip-ups go unpunished, nor will that ever change.
If you harm us or anyone important to us, we’ll hurt you more. Simple as that.
I watched as Armin sat Jaeger on a stool then scurried about the kitchen to get three cups of water, pausing and calling out ‘Levi, would you like some water as well?’ I waved my hand dismissively and he seemed to get the message. Armin then tentatively sat next to Jaeger, who seemed uncomfortable with the proximity and scooted away slightly. Noticing this, Armin moved his stool away a little, which seemed to relax the brat. A bit.
‘Um, hi Eren.’ Armin extended a hand to his company, flashing his angelic smile that brightened his luminous blue eyes. ‘It’s been a while since we last properly spoke, so ah, I suppose it’s good to see you again.’ There was a very uncomfortable pause that stretched on painfully, but it finally ended when Eren mumbled something incoherent, taking the offered hand timidly. Despite the awkwardness of the exchange, the small response seemed enough to satisfy Armin, who smiled brightly at the boy and tucked loose strands of his golden hair behind his ear.
Before long, Mikasa entered the kitchen area with a large box in hand, and produced a few products and set them out neatly on the bench. Standing next to her shorter friend, it was almost comical how different they were in appearance. While Armin was all soft curves and woolly jumpers, Mikasa owned a fierce androgynous look, rocking shades of blacks and scarlet in her punkish style. For a girl her age, she was better built with a sure posture and domineering presence, which was a shared trait between us. Seriously, even her abs weren’t far from mine, which looked a little odd on her female body. Fuck that, it looked terrifying on her, and radiated back-the-fuck-off signals to any guy stupid enough to catcall her.
If we were to stand beside each other, the first similarities you’d notice is the porcelain like skin and ebony hair, both characteristics we derived from our mother, Kuchel. Another would be our matching ‘I’m-so-done-with-this-shit’ face, which has been both the object of intimidation and humour for many people.
‘Levi, can you come here and help?’ Mikasa called out, directing her steel-grey eyes at me.
‘Are you serious? Can’t you just do it yourself?’ I groaned from my spot on the couch, meeting her disapproving glare with the same intensity.
‘Are you doing anything now?’
‘I’m watching TV.’
‘No you’re not.’
‘Yes I am.’
‘Stop winging and come here.’ I huffed loudly and peeled myself from the soft cushions, rounding the kitchen bench next to my sister.
‘Well? What do you want me to do?’ I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring up at her. Yes, up. Despite her being a year younger than me, she was a good few inches taller than my miserable height, all thanks to whichever distant ancestor’s genetics I was unfortunate enough to inherit. I would kill him twice if I had the chance.
‘I’m going to treat Armin, so can you patch up Eren? You’ve been in enough fights already to know what to do.’ Mikasa answered as she began disinfecting the graze on Armin’s chin with a wipe. I sighed and stepped up to my ‘patient’, who was still turned away from me on the stool. With a swift kick, I spun the seat so he faced me, which made the brat jerk back in surprise.
‘How am I supposed to clean you up if you don’t face me, brat?’ That probably wasn’t the best way to initiate a conversation, and this was only supported by the way Eren spluttered a barely audible apology before shutting his mouth to stop speaking. I sighed impatiently and begun to work.
I could tell clearly from that proximity that he really would have trouble seeing through the too-long veil of hair covering his face. I thought this stupid and told him so, to which he simply shrugged, though in his anxious and jumpy way. Mikasa kicked my leg for my insensitivity, but I ignored her. ‘How are you supposed to see if you’ve got all this hair blocking your vision?’
Another shrug, before he mumbled quietly, ‘I’m used to it, I guess.’
‘Whatever.’
Securing one hand behind his head so he couldn’t jerk away – he did try when I first made contact though – I used the other one to push the invasive hair out of his face, and felt my throat close up and breathing halt for a brief moment.
There, only a few inches from my face, were the brightest iridescent green eyes staring straight back at me, with immense depth and hidden secrets in every streak on its irises. Among the shades of emerald and forest greens, I could also recognize faint traces of ocean blue and flecks of gold, like jewels scattered over a field of endless nature, framed by thick lashes curved up at the edges. They were larger than I expected, almost doll-like in shape and surreal-ness, and were by far the most expressive feature on his face.
I was so caught up in their brilliance that I didn’t realise my entire body had ceased to move, and the two of us were frozen there like statues, joined by my hands and bonded by his gaze, which finally dropped in embarrassment, promptly breaking the spell. Despite his squirming and feeble attempts to get out of my hold, I felt the need to keep looking at them, to search in them, so I wouldn’t allow for him to escape so easily.
‘Look at me.’ I commanded, to which he flickered his eyes up for a moment before averting them again. I desperately wanted more, but knew I shouldn’t push it. So instead I inspected his face, taking in a dark bruise running across his cheek bones up to his temple, and some scratches on the other side.
Although the bruise and cuts were what I was meant to be treating, it was the things beneath them that worried me the most. Dark shadows loomed around his eyes, his cheeks hollowed in and the sharp contours of his jaw and temples hinted at too little to eat.
It was clear that the kid was underweight, if his baggy clothes weren’t indication enough. However, I knew it wasn’t any of my business and I had no intention of being intrusive, so I just cleaned the scratches with antiseptic and pressed an ice pack over the bruise and told him to keep it there. When I asked if he had any other injuries, he shook his head in denial, but I wasn’t convinced. He finally revealed a deep bruise blooming on his hip after a minute under my scrutiny, which I assessed and placed another icepack on.
Once I deemed my job compete, I packed up and washed my hands thoroughly, nodding at the brat when he thanked me from my help. Mikasa gave me consent to leave, so I slowly retreated upstairs to my own bedroom after collecting my phone from the lounge.
I collapsed heavily onto my bed, surrounded by a monotone of blacks and grey; charcoal sheets, black stationary lined up along a desk, black bedside table holding an alarm. Everything in my room was orderly and neat, all with their own designated place where they belong. Most of my friends would joke about my cleanliness, but what’s wrong with valuing hygiene and order? That’s right, nothing.
I tried taking a nap, drifting in and out of sleep a few times, but my thoughts always came back to those penetrating eyes from earlier, and I tried intently to uncover their mysteries in both realms, dream and reality. Realising that I would probably forget how those eyes looked by the time I woke up in the morning, I got up and filled a few pages in my sketchbook with drawings of them, but grew frustrated at not being able to capture their pure essence and soon gave up.
There was just something off about Eren’s eyes, which I found impossible to grasp; something more than the beauty and secrets it held; something darker and stronger, as is always present with anything I found remotely desirable.
Only when I finally awoke after I drifted off for the third time did I realise what it was, and grew an intrigue with the one Eren Jaeger.
What I saw in those eyes was immense, unbearable sorrow, drowning in loneliness and crushed by bitterness, but also a kind of alluring spark, like smouldering embers, ready to catch and burn burn burn like the infernos of hades.
I realised then with a sense of twisted satisfaction that there was a lot more to Eren Jaeger, and I felt the need to know all there was to him.