Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time we met, we were too young to read deeper into expressions. 

You were hidden behind the legs of your parents, staring cautiously through the gaps and curling up in reflex if someone looked at you.

I am stood by my fathers side, and I am already fed up. No one approached me, but I didn't want them to.

As the sounds of our new teacher— or, well, commander, shunned everyone else into silence and unblinking stares, I look at you occasionally. I didn't meet your eyes once, but I didn’t know it was because you didn’t like that. I didn’t really like it myself, at least not at the time.

When it’s time to start, my father pats me on the head for a second before wordlessly turning away and I only glance as he walked before turning back.

Everyone else’s parents stay a little longer, kneeling down to say their goodbyes and give their encouragement. There’s something in my throat, but I made sure it disappeared. 

I look back once again, it feels like a routine at this point. I don’t even know your name. 

You clung tighter to presumably your mother’s leg, before she leans down and bundles you in her arm to meet your father’s eyes too. 

I try not to look in their gentle eyes for too long. I don’t know what they were saying to you, I never will, but after they finished and each gave you a kiss on the cheek you nodded and squirmed out of their grip. They set you down, and despite your legs trembling and bottom lip quivering, you kept your hands off their legs. 

They turn to leave after a simple wave, and you looked away before they see your face crumple a little. When I think we were about to make eye contact I looked down at my feet and I dug them into the gravel.

———

I soon knew your name. You knew mine. 

That’s it.

I didn’t talk and it seems like it didn’t come easy for you. I never minded. Silently repairing a gun and mapping out titan anatomy was much better than having some cocky loudmouth pride himself in finishing first or getting the highest grades.

That being said, it’s weird how you never bragged. I don’t think you ever got below a 90. But each time, you would give a nod of thanks and a small pink tint would flash on your cheeks.

Sometimes I didn’t understand the work. But I couldn’t say that, obviously. But somehow you didn’t need me to say anything, maybe you noticed my blank staring into the paper or something. You would just subtly slide your papers closer, enough for me to read your pretty handwriting and jot it down messily before anyone saw. Thankfully, we were seated at the back of the classroom. 

And it’s not even just in academics either; you were shockingly great in practicals. 

I usually never cared if someone got a higher or lower score than me during accuracy drills, but each time you hit a bullseye in a record time I would look at your form the slightest bit longer. 

“Impressive.” I didn’t even mean to talk.

“…Thank you.” You whispered back.

I’m glad I did.

———

I know what has happened when you come in just as tired as me, however your frown tugs at your lips more than mine does.

I make glances throughout the lesson, never looking for too long and actually pretending to be interested in the work so no one calls me out. There’s not a lot of people left now, and everybody basically knows everybody. Even me. Even us.

When the hour ends and a break is permitted, I linger by the doorway as you pack away slower than usual. I try not to appear impatient because I know it’s inconsiderate.

You don’t even meet people’s faces as you walk out, your head is hung and feet nearly drag, but you know better than to not do that. I swallow, and I call your name out. Well, a shorter version. You said you didn’t mind last week. 

I never did this with anyone else, and quite frankly even know I’m not sure if I would, but I rummage through my bag and show off a small bag of pastries from the stall down the street. I know which ones you favour more, so I make a note to only save one for myself. 

You didn’t meet my eyes but you looked at me and nodded. There was no smile on your lips. I didn’t ask for one. 

We walk in the opposite direction to others, and I hear a familiar voice call out your name. We stop so you can explain, and soon we are on our way again. 

We sit behind the tree even though we know no one will find us (or even come looking) and I let you pick out the ones you want. You hesitated at first like you always did and I couldn’t stop a stupid grin forming due to your politeness. 

I already knew, so you don’t explain much. You never needed to. I was going to show up there with a similar ask no matter what.

———

The day we leave for the island reminds me of the day we started all of this shit.

But it’s different.

I had a titan. So did you.

My father wept as he held me, his cane abandoned on the gravel below. He had pleaded with me to come home, that he needed to know his daughter would be okay. I didn’t know what to do other than nod and silently promise I would do exactly that. I was still processing the interaction. 

He couldn’t see us off on the ship. I didn’t mind. 

However your father did. He couldn’t pick you up like he used to, and there was no longer someone else to do it. But he still held you like that day, and he spoke to you words I couldn’t understand. 

I still don’t look directly. But I notice the tears in your eyes, and I recognise the trembling smile. I understand now, and some part of me wishes I didn’t. It’s not about me.

We reach the steps onto the boat and I turn before walking off land, and there you are again — giving a gentle wave and trying to fuse the cracks back together. 

I let the other two on first, because I brush my hand with your shoulder. It’s quick, because I’m not sure if you wanted anything like that. But it tells you it’s time and it’s easier to turn and not look back until this horizon is replaced by blue. 

I know what you’re thinking as you avert your gaze during the final wave, and as I stand motionless next to you, I hope the exact same thing but not for mine, not yet. For yours.

———

I dug my hands in my coat pocket as steam continued to bellow from the knuckles, in an attempt to hide the damage and keep myself warm. We didn’t get much time around the fire today, and it felt like we had run into a different climate.

I watch as my feet flatten the grass each step, because I can’t look over at him right now. If I do, I’ll see the damage and the steam and I’ll break. 

We hadn’t even spilled blood yet, and my head already ached from guilt. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It didn’t help when I glanced back and saw you. You were purposely lagging behind even when we both knew how fast you could be (curse you and your long legs, god dammit) and I wanted to drop dead right there. Well, not really. I couldn’t.

Your eyes were ringed red from tears, and the stains on your face was like a brick thrown into my own. Your hands are picking at each other and you don’t look up from them, just hoping we’re not too slow. 

I slow my pace and you catch up to me. You don’t look, and that was fine. My hand comes into your field of vision anyway, and I make a note not to even brush against your wrist. I just make sure to stop you. 

“That’s going to sting.” I said. 

You stopped your fingers for a second, and I noticed your index finger was shaking. I tried not to let my hands do the same, and I slowly began to retract my own. I feel sick. I’m sorry.

My hand nearly reached the inside of my pocket once again, until I felt a pressure suddenly overtake it. You were clutching my hand, and there I could see the red raw appearance on our skin.

I didn’t let go until we had to, and I was glad you didn’t try to separate before. 

I hope you accepted my apology, I know it wasn’t really anything. 

———

We met in the night where not even he could find us. It was frequent, I looked forward to it sometimes.

It wasn’t easy to see all of you, and I’m sure I was just as much of a struggle. Oh well, I hated the yellow gleam of the lanterns. The moonlight was better.

You ask how I’ve been sleeping; I said fine.

I asked how you’ve been sleeping; You said fine. 

Neither of us comment on the blatant lie. Instead you tell me more about him, his complete insanity as it sounds like. I try to be annoyed but it reminds me of my own feelings. And I know you don’t want hostile words right now. 

You tell me you’re worried and homesick and I can see the tears in your eyes. I only look into them for a second. I study your trembling jaw instead. 

And because I am feeling all of those things too, I simply said what I always did. 

“We should've gone home that day.” I’m frustrated as well. I don’t really know who at, or if it’s at myself. I miss my dad. So do you.

You shuffled closer to me, and despite your size you were silent. I snapped a leaf just sitting myself up. 

“He keeps saying we’ll be home soon. When he remembers.” 

For a moment, I lean my head in closer. I scoffed, completely baffled and ignorant about what was going on. 

“‘Remembers.’ Our graduation ceremony is next week. He’s not going to remember anymore.” The words slipped out and I felt bad because I said I wasn’t going to be rude. I didn’t want to be. I know I’m not. 

You look down at the grass in between your feet and hesitate to pick a few blades out. You don’t reply. I didn’t continue. That was okay.

We remained for goodness knows how long. I honestly wished time would’ve stopped. I know what’s to come and it made me miss the present. 

I stand up when I see you suppress a yawn. You were always trying to please those around you, I wish you’d considered yourself kindly for once. 

“…I’ll let you know the best next time.” I said slowly. I didn’t know why I was delaying the goodbye. 

You nodded. “Sleep well.”

I nodded. “Sleep well.”

I didn’t go back to sleep.

———

If I had looked back that evening I know I would’ve taken your hand and dragged you with me. I knew I couldn’t. 

If he was left alone then things would’ve occurred very differently. He needed you to stay with him, I needed you to stay with him. 

But that didn’t make things any less difficult when I turned around alone. 

I knew the choice I was making, we had finalised it years ago when everything was better and no one was dead or completely losing it.

I think back to him and his half eaten corpse when I heard his friend gasp from my side. I’m angry. But not at you. Not even at him. 

Please, I hope you weren’t looking back at me. Keep your eyes focused forward, on him, don’t think about me. I know you hate plan changes but I don’t even care about the plan anymore. 

I didn’t see anyone I recognised walk with me. I would’ve thought those two would’ve joined. They hated fighting in Trost, they were crying half the time. 

It didn’t hurt as bad to see no one else beside me, but I remember the feeling well. 

I regret not at least meeting with you hours later. Maybe in a different location, this time dangling our feet above a man made canal and having to deal with the glow of the streetlights. 

I know I don’t have the right to ask for forgiveness, but I hope you’ll allow this plea.

———

Within these four years I recall so much being said to me, but so little of you.

I knew you wouldn’t have been able to visit. No one was. I spent weeks in silence and my own thoughts but at one point I stopped trying. It just felt all the more excruciating to think about anyone or anything.

And yet I couldn’t help but want your presence. 

I wanted to have a conversation with anyone else, but if you had shown up and said a simple Hello and sat next to me with a book or something, I would’ve felt better. 

Maybe if you’ve shown up with pastries too. Although I would’ve definitely gotten annoyed at you because I obviously couldn’t eat them. She did it to me once.

But you never came.

From what I was told you were revealed— exposed, only days later. Maybe not even that. I didn’t get told for a while. I get it.

I know you were scared. Just like me. You wanted this to be over just as much as I but I know you never wanted it to turn out like this. 

You tried to come and save me and take me home. I don’t know how things would’ve gone if you succeeded, and I’m not sure how I should feel about it. But I do wish I could’ve seen your face again. So maybe sometimes I prefer that timeline to this one. 

We— well, you guys had discovered the founder. And you finally took back the jaw titan. It shouldn’t have been her. I didn’t mind her, I think we could’ve been friends. If she didn’t hate me. 

Everyone was doing what they thought was right. You were doing it to save your dad and you know you’d drag the blood home with you but continued anyway. I understood that without anyone telling me.

Then one day he came down but he sounded different. He was with someone but they didn’t say a word. 

He said Hello to me and if I could’ve tensed up I would have. 

Then he said it. So plainly but so guiltily. His words didn’t shake but I felt like he was struggling. 

You were eaten. 

Everyone watched. 

I wanted to be angry but I thought about the half massacred body and it felt like karma. But karma shouldn’t have come at the cost of you, who didn’t even do anything. I guess that's the point. 

So you were gone. He had your titan. Did I still have the abilities of mine? I couldn’t move my finger to check. 

I wonder how he’s doing. He didn’t see it, he was injured. That was probably for the best. I didn’t want him to blame himself even if it had been his fault. 

He came more frequently after that, nearly every single day. He spoke to me, told me all about the ocean as if I hadn’t infiltrated this place and used a ship to get here. He told me a lot of facts I didn’t know however, and sometimes I heard you in the smiled words. 

Other times he came with more serious stuff about people I once knew and wondered if they thought of me. But judging the seriousness of his words sometimes, I doubt it. It made sense. 

I had nothing else to do but keep them in my memory. They were shoved behind most things however, and when I really didn’t feel like listening to her or him sometimes I would think about you and our memories.

I missed that meadow a lot. 

I missed you a lot. 

———

I had barely gotten a chance to get myself together after a sudden second chance that I was fighting the puppeted souls of the dead and praying my father was okay.

I knew yours wasn’t here anymore. I was also praying you were together. 

Until I saw you again. But it wasn’t you. 

It wasn’t the boy I spoke to when we were alone and we got to forget for a few hours, nor was it the boy I shared sweets with and stared in amazement when training. 

It was the boy who should’ve been freed when your heart stopped beating. Your conduit leaned towards him as far as the flesh ropes would let you, and your hand mechanically reached for his body. It didn’t react to his kicking and punching, but I know you did. 

It chewed, but it wasn’t enough. He was saved by someone else at the last second, and you were left with nothing. 

I am angry as I identify the situation to the others, and I point out you specifically because this isn’t what you deserved. You wanted two things: freedom, and to never once hurt those you loved. Your freedom was never gained like I had prayed, and you were used to kill once again.  

When I am eventually fighting hands on, I am not so easily assisting as I hoped. It hurts, everything does, and I slump against a large cold bone. I am tired but I know it’s not done yet. 

I thought the skies had become grey. I didn’t know the forecast for the day. But when I looked up, I still saw patches of blue. 

And there you were. I couldn’t see much of your face as you moved above me, but I knew it looked different. 

Your arm swats away many small puppets like they’re bugs. They are crushed, they fall off the ribs and down to be crushed by titans just like yours down below. They’re smaller than you though. 

I wish you had looked down at me. I know those eyes weren’t the green I liked but I still would’ve been happy to see them. 

The next time I see you, your hands are accompanying smaller titans. Of her, of them. You looked a bit more at peace, and this time I hope I am sure that you can rest. 

———

I give a nod and I thank the young florist opposite me. I wish tipping was a more accepted thing here. 

I leave the small makeshift store and I notice the sun has come out. After days of rain and a cloudy morning I soften at the sight. It’s not cold either, so I’m fine in my blazer. 

Thankfully today isn’t a busy day either. I walk peacefully with the bouquet in my hands and I don’t have to dodge many people. 

I’m not walking for very long, but I didn’t count the minutes. I am there first, but I look around before I decide to sit down. 

I am just about to set myself down before I catch a glimpse of blonde in the corner of my eye. I turn around and give a wave, and I wait for him to approach. Sometimes he finds it funny to work purposely slower when he knows I’m hungry.

This time he doesn’t, however. Thankfully. He reaches me a little quicker than usual and he mutters an apology. 

“There was a queue today, and obviously, we ask for quite a bit.” He says, raising the bag up and showing me he managed to get everything. I smile excitedly. 

We kneel down, and I delicately place the bouquet in front of the small curve of stone. Only one word is carved. You.

He takes the box out of the bag and opens it delicately. I get the first pick as he generously offers, and I take only one of his favourites. He huffs at me, and I can tell he wants one of mine. I might let him. 

“The talks are going surprisingly well.” I begin, unsure of how else to start. Unfortunately no one’s done anything stupid recently, and nothing new has been invented. 

“Don’t jinx it. Touch wood.” His voice is muffled with a donut in his mouth. He looks around for something and finds a piece of bark on the floor and he taps it. To humour him I do the same. 

We talk little about the talks, I know that’s probably not what you want us to show up for. It’s basic small talk, but it’s finally summer and it’s warm and I mention that. He got over his ‘deathly cold’ and wanted to express the relief he felt when he could breathe again. 

I know it’s basic, but that's all that you wanted. Having to discuss what we did back then, I understand why you never had much to say, or why you didn’t like meeting eyes. 

I hope we meet again, in a time where this is a silly horror movie and I can see you all the time.