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Bertholdt had never been a quiet crier.
He’d always hiccupped horribly and had to sniff away a runny nose, hiding away behind his hands. Whenever Reiner saw him so upset, he’d offer his side and let him sob until his heart’s relief. Bertholdt had never held back, not when his best friend was next to him.
But this time, he’s completely silent. Mute droplets fall from his eyes. His body hardly shakes.
Still, Reiner can see the twist of his expression, full of grief and melancholy. He’s standing in the shade with Reiner’s club bag on one shoulder, away from everyone else in the sun.
“Hey, Bertholdt… what’s wrong?”
The second he notices Reiner, Bertholdt quickly wipes his face, tears disappearing into his shirtsleeve. He turns with a small smile.
“It’s nothing, Reiner. Don’t worry.”
Then, he excuses himself as an anchor roots Reiner’s feet in place. That same heavy feeling travels up into his chest and into his heart.
Bertholdt really had looked perfectly fine. There was no trace of his sadness apart from a faint red around his eyes. His smile sat so naturally on his face, perfectly appeasing. It looked like the same smile he’d given Reiner for as long as he’s remembered.
“Hey…Bertholdt, wait a minute…”
Since when could Reiner no longer tell Bertholdt’s real smiles from the fake ones?
———
Hey, Bertholdt, do you wanna go play? It snowed a lot last night! You said you’ve never had a snowball fight before. Let’s go now!
Hey, Bertholdt, what did you get on that test? Wow, you’re pretty amazing, huh? It must be because you read so much! Tutor me next time?
Hey, Bertholdt, when can I come over? I know you’ve been busy lately, so I brought some of your favorite shows and snacks. I’ve missed you!
Hey, Bertholdt, what do you want to eat? You always let me choose. We should go to your favorite dumpling stall! I’ll pay this time, promise.
Hey, Bertholdt, how are you doing? I know it’s silly to ask when I see you every day, but I still want to know. Thanks for always asking me too.
Hey, Bertholdt, where did you go just now? I always wonder what you’re thinking. You never tell me when you’re sad. I’m your best friend, so don’t hide, okay?
Hey, Bertholdt, have I forgotten something? You always remember things for me. You always pick up after me. I’m so lucky, aren’t I?
Hey, Bertholdt, why are you crying?
———
Reiner and Bertholdt have always been together.
Since they were young, they’d been inseparable. Always sitting next to one another on the bus and sharing oranges exactly in half. Flicking eachother on the forehead and spending hours playing their favorite games.
Even as they grew older into teenagers, their dynamic never changed. Bertholdt still made Reiner his lunches, still cheered the loudest at his games, still followed him like a second shadow, and still knew all of his favorites by heart. Reiner still told Bertholdt everything, still had his locker and phone numbers memorized, still bought him his favorite books, and still chose him first.
Hey…so when did it all go wrong? When exactly, did Reiner start becoming such a half-assed bastard?
When did he stop thanking Bertholdt when he brought him his towel and water after practice? When did he start turning down quiet hangouts with him to go out to parties? When did he stop turning to make sure he was behind him and start expecting it instead?
Hey…
Bertholdt was his best friend. When had Reiner stopped being his?
———
“Happy birthday, Reiner.”
Along with his well wishes, Bertholdt hands over a small box wrapped in a modest ribbon.
When Reiner opens it, he finds the watch that he’d been talking about wanting for months. The cool metal shines brightly in the light when he picks it up, the pristine finish on the elegant face reflecting Reiner’s awed smile. It’s beautiful.
Tick, tick.
The hands turn quietly, the intricate clockwork inside already primed and set. This is a type of luxury he’d only ever dreamed of indulging in.
“Bertholdt, thank you,” Reiner says, voice muffled in his best friend’s shoulder as he hugs him tight.
“Of course,” comes the warm reply, and Reiner stands patiently as Bertholdt pulls back from the embrace to take the watch and clasp it around a waiting wrist. The leather strap hugs Reiner’s hand like it was made for it.
“Very handsome,” Bertholdt compliments with a little teasing smile, and Reiner feels his heart swell.
After he responds by pinching a playfully scrunched nose, they head off to Reiner’s favorite restaurant where the rest of their friends are waiting. The rest of the evening is filled with laughter, drinks, and well wishes.
When the festivities grow a little too rowdy, no one notices when the best friend, messenger, other half, steps back. No one notices that after the clock struck twelve, Bertholdt had been staring into space with his hand around his throat. No one notices, too busy celebrating a teenager finally becoming an adult. No one notices — no one knows— that for someone else, that time has long since flown away.
Around Reiner’s wrist, the watch ticks on.
Tick, tick.
———
Long ago, in another life, Reiner turned seventeen for the first time.
He isn’t even aware of the date until Bertholdt quietly wishes him happy birthday atop Wall Maria.
“Oh, is it August already?”
“Yes, I was keeping track. You’re seventeen now, Reiner.”
Reiner can’t even smile at that, just nodding and continuing to look over the forests far below. The wind caresses his hair and face, far more gently than he deserves. He doesn’t turn to look when Bertholdt comes to sit beside him.
The guilt of their reveal still eats at him. The way he had dragged Bertholdt into a fight for their lives against former friends without so much as a warning. Reiner had rushed into the most critical part of their mission like he had horse blinders on, uncaring of how or if they would succeed. The near price had been his own life, and more unforgivably— the life of the boy next to him.
“It’s been five years, huh?” Bertholdt says. “Our mission is almost over. You’ll be able to go home soon.”
Reiner balls his fists, finally tilting his head to meet a familiar gaze. “We will. We’ll go home together.”
Finally, a small smile pulls at Bertholdt’s lips. Reiner is relieved to see it.
“Yeah, we will.”
Reiner is still looking when Bertholdt reaches into the pocket of his shirt to pull something out, held delicately between his fingers.
It’s a flower. A small white daisy curled into a circle that fits perfectly over Reiner’s ring finger.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything better. I’d meant to get you something at the stores in town before…well.”
But Reiner isn’t listening, really. He doesn’t care about whatever grand birthday present Bertholdt had hoped to get him. He only cares about the precious flower on his finger and the promise it tells him.
“It’s not much, but I hope you remember that time, back when we were kids,” Bertholdt goes on, voice soft as he turns away like he’s embarrassed. Reiner continues looking at the flower ring and at the person who’s gifted it to him. “When I picked you a daisy and we…we promised to always stay together. I hope we get to go to that field again, some day.”
The horizon is beginning to leak streaks of pink and gold. They cast long beautiful shadows upon Bertholdt’s face— along the ridge of an aquiline nose and the waterline of sad green eyes.
The warm light outlines a smile that looks like it hurts. Reiner can’t stand it.
The warm wind that’s blowing through caresses Reiner’s hair and face far more gently than he deserves and doesn’t treasure Bertholdt nearly as well. In his opinion, it never does.
“Hey, Bertholdt,” he says, then. “Let’s get married.”
Reiner looks directly at Bertholdt, amber gaze unwavering. He holds the curl of the flower close to his chest, fragile white petals framing a golden jewel. In his mind is the memory of a daisy circling his own chubby ring finger and the kind smile of the boy who had placed it there.
“When we go back home and we’re both adults, let’s get married.”
Bertholdt’s stunned expression melts into one of painful fondness. He’s heard this promise before. He knows how unlikely it is. How impossible.
But he’s sick of denying them both a simple dream. A simple childlike hope to stay with their favorite person forever.
So Bertholdt nods, letting his smile become as genuine as the tears that wet his eyes.
“ Yes. ”
The clock continues to tick down. Soon, they’ll be joined by their fellow warriors and fight a final battle.
And as the sun crests the horizon and they make the leap, Bertholdt is thinking of Reiner and Reiner is thinking of the flower in his pocket. Together, they think of the promise for just one more sunrise together.
In the end, Bertholdt never gets to be an adult.
(In the end, the rest of Reiner’s first life is spent breaking his dearest promise.)
———
Hey, Reiner, don’t cry, okay? You struggle so much during training but you work harder than anyone else. I’ll help you get up and dry your tears.
Hey, Reiner, what do you like to eat? We’ve worked so hard to become warriors, so let’s celebrate! Thank you for all your hard work.
Hey, Reiner, how are you feeling? It’s scary being by ourselves on this island. Every day is so difficult, isn’t it? Keep holding your head high.
Hey, Reiner, which are you right now? Lately, you’ve been getting confused. I’m scared one day you’ll be stuck forgetting who you are. Please, don’t leave.
Hey, Reiner, why don’t you smile anymore? Maybe it’s selfish of me to ask, after everything that’s happened. I know you’re feeling guilty and that you’re hurting. I hope you smile again soon.
Hey, Reiner, won’t you take care of yourself? I want to see this through to the end. Even if I’m not standing by your side afterward, I’ll worry about you. Sleep well, eat well, and live well, won’t you?
Hey, Reiner, won't you remember our promise?
———
When Reiner asks him to follow him one late December day, Bertholdt only nods and reminds him to dress warmly. They end up at the same grassy bank where they used to play as children, along the road to their old elementary school.
The cold weather has long since stopped flowers from growing, but the delicate sprinkling of snow resting on top of the grass mimics the pure white of daisies. They sit down near the top of the foothill, overlooking the lazy river below.
While the silence remains comfortable, Bertholdt can tell from the way Reiner sits, back bowed with what can only be stress, that he has something he wants to discuss.
“Hey, Bertholdt, do you remember your tenth birthday?”
“Hm? …No, not really. Why?”
“...That was the year I forgot it. I was playing in the snow all day with the neighborhood kids while you stayed inside.”
“Oh. Yes, I think I remember that.”
“Do you remember the next day, when I went over to your house to say happy new year and suddenly started crying like a baby?”
“Hah, yeah, I do. I wasn’t mad, just like I told you back then. But you still cried and cried and kept saying sorry.”
“Well, can you blame me? While I was playing around, you were inside taking care of your dad. When you told me you didn’t even have a cake , I cried even more.”
“…Reiner, why are you bringing this up now?”
“I promised you I would never do that again, didn’t I? I promised I would never forget your birthday again.”
“Well, you’ve kept that promise ever since. You aren’t still feeling guilty about that after all this time, are you?”
“No, I...that’s not it. It’s just that — that’s not the only promise I made. I promised something to myself too.”
“...Ah?”
“I promised myself I would never forget you again. I promised I’d never leave your side. I promised I’d always make you happy.”
“...Reiner—”
“Hey, Bertholdt, tell me.”
Reiner looks at him, broad hand reaching out to take his. The watch Reiner received for his own birthday months ago sits on his wrist.
Tick, tick.
“When was the last time you really smiled?”
———
Hey, Bertholdt, it was difficult for you, wasn’t it? Because I almost forgot being a warrior, you were forced to always remember. Because I laughed and joked around, you sat by all yourself. Because I couldn’t make up my mind, you had to shoulder our burdens alone.
Hey, Bertholdt, you suffered a lot, didn’t you? I leaned on you and all you did was support me until the end. You were always there for me. You were the most reliable person I ever had.
Hey, Bertholdt, you were so tired, weren’t you? You couldn’t escape anywhere. You had to always have your eyes open and feel all the guilt in your heart. Dreaming was the only time you knew peace.
Hey, Bertholdt, you never got to be happy, did you?
———
“...What are you saying, Reiner?” Bertholdt doesn’t pull away from the hand holding his, but he glances away, not wanting to meet a searching gaze.
“You wouldn’t tell me why you were crying that day. And I never asked again, did I?”
“You had other things to worry about,” Bertholdt frowns, brows furrowing with concern. “Hey…this isn’t like you, Reiner. What’s wrong?”
It’s then that Reiner’s expression twists wretchedly, and the words he’d been trying so hard to elegantly filter instead explode from his throat.
“It should be like me!” He shouts. “It shouldn’t be unlike me to ask you about what’s bothering you. It shouldn’t be unlike me to care about you!”
Bertholdt doesn’t flinch, but he squeezes Reiner’s hand to silently tell him he’s gripping too hard. Sad green eyes look at him — at his hazel eyes full of fire — and cool them in seconds. Soft steam drifts in their place.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bertholdt says quietly. “You do care, Reiner. You care so, so much. You have the biggest heart I know.”
“So then why won’t you let me share it with you?” Reiner asks, almost desperately. “Bertl, why do you always do this? You always put me first. You’ve always done that.”
“...That’s not true. I’m selfish too, you know?”
He is, really. Bertholdt has been selfish all his life. He’s kept Reiner by his side this whole time, been able to soak up his voice and smile like a man never full. When Reiner had been a warrior— a true, painfully lucid warrior — he didn’t smile very much. And selfishly, Bertholdt had internally claimed each one as his own. Every smile he got from Reiner was a victory, every grin a sign that he meant something to him.
In fact, Bertholdt is so selfish that he can only be glad Reiner doesn't remember being a warrior at all.
He hunches into himself, knees drawing up as he tries to pull his hand away. Reiner doesn’t let him.
“You deserve to be,” his dearest friend tells him. “You deserve to be selfish, then. I don’t care how many times I have to say it, Bertl.”
Ever since Bertholdt had regained his memories, he’d tried so hard not to bother Reiner so much anymore. He no longer wanted to burden Reiner with his tears, with his troubles, with his pointless fears. He doesn’t want to be so selfish anymore. Why was Reiner making this so hard?
“You don’t understand. I’ve been selfish for so so long. I’ve always depended on you. I’ve always used you like some sort of.. some sort of armor . Don’t you deserve better? Reiner — I’m just trying to help you.”
He thinks he keeps it subtle enough, doesn’t share completely the source of his anguish. But then Reiner’s response comes in a voice so filled with sorrow and hurt that Bertholdt feels his heart strain.
“Do you think I don’t remember our promise? Is that it? Do you think I forgot what I asked you?”
Green eyes widen, struck with surprise. Hey…Reiner, no, have you…?
“I remember,” Reiner says. “I remember all of it. How could I forget? Bertholdt, how could I ever forget?”
“No,” Bertholdt says softly, shaking his head. “No, no. You weren’t supposed to remember. You were supposed to…”
Reiner grips both of Bertholdt’s hands then, taking them in his own. Bertholdt’s fingers are longer, but Reiner’s palms are broader. They complement one another; they always have. Just like the quiet stars and a wistful moon, just like their shadows merging into one behind them as they face the sun. He squeezes tight, until those rosy fingertips start to pale.
“What was I supposed to be?”
“...You were supposed to be happy.”
Bertholdt chokes on the words, torn up. Happy. Reiner was supposed to be happy. He didn’t need to remember. He doesn’t want him to remember.
“Hey, who are you to decide that for me?”
Bertholdt tries not to flinch, but can't stop the sting of the words in his heart. Ah, that’s right. He really only thinks about himself, doesn’t he? And Reiner is finally seeing that too.
“I know I don’t have that right,” he says bitterly. Why hide now? Reiner deserves to hear this, at the very least. Maybe this will finally set him free. “But don’t you get it, Reiner? You don’t need to worry about me anymore. You don’t need to protect me. You can still be happy!”
“Who are you to decide what and who makes me happy?” Reiner repeats, and the fact that there isn’t even a glimpse of blame or anger in his eyes only makes Bertholdt burn more. He can’t look up anymore. He can’t reply.
“Bertholdt. Why were you crying?”
He doesn’t respond. The look on Reiner’s face tells him he doesn’t need to. It always comes back to the same thing. Happiness: and their fate to never share it together. So, Bertholdt had simply prayed and begged for the next best thing.
“Bertl, you protected me too, you know? Every time. I’ve always relied on you just as much as you did on me. Even now, you’re still watching my back.” Reiner is still looking at him, still meeting his gaze. Despite how it burns him, Bertholdt can’t turn away. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now. And it hurts that I don’t. I used to be able to tell everything you were thinking just by seeing you. Just by how close you stood or how you looked at me.”
“Stop.”
Reiner doesn’t.
“I watched you just as much as you watched me. You were my best friend, Bertl. You still are. You were my partner back when we were in hell and you’re my partner in this life too.”
“Reiner…”
“You’re so important to me, Bertholdt. You’re there when I’m upset, you’re there when I need you, you make me laugh — you make me happy . Please, don't take that away from me.”
(Please, don’t take my one and only away again.)
Unwillingly, irrevocably, Bertholdt starts to cry.
A tender hand wipes his tears. Reiner is looking at him with an expression so gentle it hurts.
“Hey, don’t hold back,” he says, and the words sound exactly as if they were spoken in a darkened cabin after training, within a thin tent atop a towering wall. “You can cry.”
In Bertholdt’s chest, longing, relief, and hope burst into vivid technicolor.
(I want to be happy. I want to live too.)
Bertholdt sniffs and doesn’t hold back a hiccup. He doesn’t resist the caring hand that pulls him in close. Above him, Reiner rests his cheek on top of his head, nestling in his hair. Bertholdt hopes the snow that’s collected there isn’t making him cold.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to live too.”
Reiner’s quiet affirmations only make the tears flow faster. Bertholdt doesn’t try to hold back anymore.
“Reiner,” he sobs. “ Reiner.”
In his first life, Bertholdt had learned to cry silently. To stifle sobs behind his hands and let tears streak quietly down his cheeks.
In this life, he did not. He hiccupped horribly and always tried to sniff away a runny nose. When he was upset, he always had Reiner to turn to.
Despite the return of his memories on that first day of August, Bertholdt is no longer the boy he was a lifetime ago.
So, he cries.
It’s messy and noisy but he does it all the same and Reiner never moves an inch away. He never lets go of Bertholdt’s hand.
Ah, it felt good to cry.
Long after the light snowfall stops, the edges of sunshine continue warming their faces.
Bertholdt’s tears have dried, his face clear except for a rosiness around his eyes and cheeks. In his hand, he holds a little clear bookmark with a dried daisy pressed in between. He hums when Reiner presses a chaste kiss to the side of his forehead and leans his head against his shoulder.
“Happy eighteenth birthday, Bertl. I’m glad you were born.”
Bertholdt can’t resist the warm smile that tugs at him, can’t resist melting as he looks down at the hand still clasped in his. Despite the frost, Bertholdt feels so very warm, from his fingertips to his toes. He doesn’t notice that Reiner is looking at him with eyes soft with awe.
“...Hey, smile again?”
“Ah?”
“Your face just now was cute,” Reiner says, completely absent of shame. “I love the way that you smile.”
“...You idiot.”
Reiner squawks when a flustered hand pinches his cheek, but laughs in the same breath all the same. A grin breaks on his face when Bertholdt can’t help chuckling along. Ah, so he is blessed with that lovely smile again.
The pair sit there, their breaths drifting in the cold and hands warmed in one another’s. Time passes and counts down.
Tick, tick.
“Hey, Bertholdt.”
The watch slows to a stop. Now, there’s nothing they fear at the end of their time. They can come again to this field when true daisies are in bloom.
“Yes, Reiner?”
“Marry me.”
(A simple hope to stay with your favorite person forever.)
“ Yes.”
———
Hey, Reiner, you still worry about me, don’t you? Even in this new life, you care so much. You’ve kept your kind heart. I’ve always admired that about you.
Hey, Reiner, you should keep smiling, okay? I don’t need you to remember our time together if it means you remember your pain too. I don’t need anything other than your happiness. Please, live.
Hey, Reiner, you’re still so stubborn, aren’t you? I’ll happily let you win, again and again. I promise I won’t leave your side. I promise I’ll be here to see you smile. I promise I’ll keep living too.
Hey, Reiner, I’m happy when I’m with you.
———
In their previous life, Reiner never got to hold Bertholdt’s hand. He never got to kiss his cheek and tell him how much he mattered. How precious he was, how important and loved. He never got to marry him.
So in this life, he does.
Reiner reminds Bertholdt every day that he is cared for, that he is seen. He presses kisses to his eyelids and palms, promises to his forehead and lips. Reiner threads his hand with Bertholdt’s while they watch the sunrise together, matching rings on their fingers.
There are so many things he never told him — never saw with him, never spent with him, never given him — in their last life. But that was alright.
Because now, they have tomorrow. Then the day after that, and the tomorrow beyond tomorrow after that. Beyond, and beyond beyond.
(Tomorrow.)
A warm smile tugs at Reiner’s lips as he clutches Bertholdt’s hand a little tighter — a little closer.
(What a beautiful word.)
Hey, Bertholdt—
Hey, Reiner —
I love you!