Our protagonist is Levi, so there is coarse language. Also, if you don't know Levi's last name, that's here, too.

This story contains M/M and F/F pairings, so if you're not looking for slash fiction, this is not the story for you.

For those still remaining, I hope you enjoy the ride. It's probably going to be a long one.

When Levi's parents died, he crawled into his mother's casket and refused to leave her side.

He was just old enough to understand what death meant, and just young enough to feel small and powerless with his parents lying motionless in padded, decorated boxes. His aunt and uncle had tried to get him to come out, but he didn't move, holding onto his mother's corpse because to him, this was the end of the world.

That was when a stranger appeared, a man who Levi, to this day, isn't sure actually belonged at the funeral. He leaned over the casket, wiped the tears from Levi's face, and told him everything would be okay. And though Levi did not know this man and struggles to recall if he even looked up at his face, he climbed out of the casket because he believed what he said.

He remembers little from his childhood, but he remembers that single event almost perfectly. The man seemed to Levi so regal and heroic, like a prince from a fairy tale come to save the day, and he smelled of roses. And before he left, he knelt down on one knee and gave Levi a signet ring with two wings crossing over one another and closed his fist around it.

"It takes courage and nobility to overcome great suffering," the man had told him, "You will do just fine. I want to see what kind of a young man you'll grow up to be, so keep this ring, and it will lead you to me one day." He vanished then-surely, he walked away, but Levi remembers it as blinking, and the man being gone in the next instant.

He had been only a young boy at the time, but this man made such an impression on him-his selflessness, his gift, his ability to convince Levi that the world would go on-that Levi decided he would be just like him when he grew up. He would be noble and heroic, like a fairy tale prince.

Like most dreams formed at the tender age of six, it was a noble phase that Levi eventually grew out of, right around the time that he decided that fairy tale princes and heroism were complete bullshit.

"Do you ever wake up in the morning," Levi says, "And just wonder how the fuck you got here, and why?"

Petra leans back against the railing on the bridge with her hands stretched over her head, watching the sunlight stream through the spaces in her fingers. "You mean here like at this school?" she asks, "Or like in general?"

He shrugs.

"Both, right?" Petra laughs. "I dunno. Not really, I guess. You're funny, Levi. I doubt anybody would guess by looking at you that you think so deeply."

"I really don't," he's in the middle of saying, but the chiming of the school bells send Petra scurrying across the bridge and calling for him over her shoulder.

They must look odd walking with each other, he thinks. Petra comes from money, and it shows in the modest but elegant way she walks and the soft, feminine voice she speaks in. Her nails are always manicured and she wears just the slightest hint of makeup to accentuate her features. At a regular school, she'd stand out, but at Trost Academy, she isn't so different from every other pretty rich girl. Trost presents itself as a haven for the gifted, but anyone who actually sees the expensive handbags and designer shoes the giggling young girls wear as they stare across the courtyard at athletic, neatly combed young boys who have been groomed since childhood knows that it's just a boarding school for children of the social elite, regardless of their talent. The rules are strict, the people are fake, and at the heart of it all lies the central tower where the student council literally peers down from their office on the sixth floor to survey their make-believe kingdom. Petra at least has a warmth to her that the others lack, but Levi quite clearly does not belong.

His family is not particularly wealthy, nor do they belong to the upper crust of society, and it's his brains alone that got him into Trost in the first place. Yet he carries himself like most inner city kids do-with a swagger, shoulders stiff, looking intimidating not by choice but by necessity and habit. He's short, and always looked like an easy target, and the need to compensate is almost ingrained into him. His vocabulary makes even his math teachers cringe, and Petra has told him more than once that he shouldn't glare at people so much, to which he can only blink at her, because he's pretty sure he wasn't glaring, it's just how his face always looks.

Petra is kind, though. She was the first person to reach out to him when he transferred, miraculously unafraid despite the rest of the class scooting their desks a few inches away, but to this very day, he doesn't know what she saw in him.

"Are you going to try to actually come to class now and then this year?" Petra asks teasingly as they arrive at their classroom.

"I'll think about it," Levi says noncommittally. He really doesn't mean to skip; but sometimes he comes to campus in a bad mood that's only further exacerbated by his teachers and their sermons, all, "Levi, I noticed you're walking back towards the dorms even though the bell just rang. Why is that?" like they can't fucking guess. And yes, he supposes it could be an attitude problem. Even at his old school where everybody wasn't all uppity he got into his fair share of fights, sometimes with only a glance thrown in his direction as provocation. He's worked on it, though, because he knows his aunt hates getting those calls since she knows he wasn't always like that.

He knows it, too, and that makes it twice as frustrating.

"There's prince charming," Levi hears the moment he steps foot into the classroom, and follows Petra over to a group hovering near the windows. Oluo, Gunther and Eld are not necessarily similar to Petra, but what they do have in common is that they tolerate-and maybe even enjoy-Levi's company. Oluo in particular has taken a liking to imitating his mannerism and speech, perhaps to have a taste of what it's like to be of a social caste that cares more for the quantity of the food over how it is presented. Levi would probably be offended if it wasn't so hilarious-and a little endearing, almost. "I owe Eld lunch," Oluo says, sneering with his arms crossed over his chest, "I bet him you wouldn't show up today."

"Oluo," Petra scolds almost reflexively but without any real bite.

"You had to go get him, didn't you?" he challenges.

Levi turns to Eld, raising a brow. "You thought I would show?"

The boy is quiet and perhaps the closest thing to a normal person in Trost; he has a hard time hiding it when he finds other people ridiculous, which is a lot of the time. He shrugs. "Your attendance usually starts fine and worsens over the course of the year."

"Anyway," Oluo snaps, "We were just talking about the student council before you came in."

Levi leans against his desk, unable to feign interest. "What about them?"

"Just looking at what new assholes came to fill the spots of the old ones."

Gunther, meticulous and prepared for everything no matter how insignificant, has one of the "new student welcome" brochures in his hands, despite being a second year. "The president and vice president both graduated and were replaced," he says, "Although the current vice president is actually one of the incoming freshmen."

"Starting off early on the trail to decadence," Oluo says, rolling his eyes. "Is that chick from the fencing team still in, too?"

The classroom door slides shut as their teacher comes in, and everyone reluctantly disperses. Petra looks back from her desk to give Levi a reassuring smile and he rolls his eyes in response. He half-pays attention to the usual first-day bullshit, idly playing with his ring and tracing over the wing pattern with his fingertips.

Where are you now? he thinks almost angrily at the imaginary figment of the fake prince from his childhood. Anymore, he thinks he must have remembered the whole thing wrong, maybe made the guy up to help him cope with the deaths of his parents. On one hand, his aunt and uncle never mentioned the man, but on the other, nobody seemed to know where his ring came from. Levi wasn't holding onto the hope of someday meeting this guy anymore, but he never threw the ring away either, and when he saw an advertisement for Trost with a crest that matched his ring, his heart had stopped, and he'd applied without even thinking. He doesn't know why he stayed, why he's still trying, when he's not waiting for anyone anymore.

Maybe he just wants to believe that there are heroes and saviors and princes, so he can let himself believe that he could be one again.

He doesn't make it past the first hour.

The first day of the new term is his least favorite, a blur of false smiles and unnecessary pleasantries, learning the names of people he won't like and who won't like him. Levi raises his hand and asks to be excused "to take a shit," and Petra looks back at him exasperated-half because she really wishes he could just say "I need to go the bathroom" like everybody else, and half because she knows that's not where he's going to go-and his teacher's expression is about the same, but he's excused. Even skipping class is a painful experience, because no matter how artsy or "modern" the architecture of the school with open air hallways and spacious courtyards is, there are gates and walls everywhere.

Trost Academy, to those with any sense, is just a giant cage. It's a private school, so of course the campus is framed by pristine white walls and golden gates all the way around. But it's so far separated from reality and the outside world; not physically, since it's just a quick jog across the river to the dorms and then to the surrounding city, but in just about every other way. The fountains wouldn't feel out of place in a museum featuring Ancient Roman sculptures, the gates themselves are built to resemble the wing crest, there's a small forest maintained at the north end of campus, and the cafeteria hall silverware has ornate designs on the handles not unlike the kind his aunt received as a wedding gift. There's an air of superiority, and the campus goes to great lengths in order to remove itself from the surrounding city, with walls and as many self-sufficient services as possible. Even when Levi goes on walks, leaving the high school department completely and going across campus, passing the central tower and the music rooms and the gymnasium, he still feels suffocated-or at the very least, walled in.

He's just gone out another pair of doors and out into the courtyard when he hears something that makes slow down. The sounds that reach his ears-a scuffle, shoes sliding over the tile, someone's fist connecting with someone else's body, a fight-makes him stop and turn, because he almost can't believe there's actually something as real as that happening on school grounds.

There's a garden in the courtyard that he can see from the open air hallway, shaped like a birdcage with golden bars. Levi watches two figures wrestling through the tinted glass, the larger of the two quickly gaining the upper hand and knocking the other to the ground. He draws closer when he hears voices raised.

"Jesus, just stay down," one of them seethes, but the momentary stillness ends just as abruptly as it began, the shorter figure struggling on the floor. "I'm not gonna ask again, Jeager. Stop fighting me if you know what's good for you."

Levi's at the door now. It's not his business, it really isn't-he's no hero, no prince, nobody's savior-but he catches a glimpse of the combatants from the glass pane of the door. There are two boys in the greenhouse; one with an undercut and narrow eyes pinning a slightly smaller one to the floor. The boy on the bottom has eyes the color of seafoam, not quite green and not quite blue.

And they're full of rage.

Levi doesn't know what comes over him, but the next thing he knows, he's reaching for the door, and his legs are moving.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" he demands, standing over both boys with his hands in his pockets, "If you two are gonna mess around, do it outside. First years aren't supposed to be in here." He could really give a shit about the school's policies, but he's at least got their attention now; the boy with wide, angry eyes looks up at him with confusion, seemingly surprised.

"Fuck off," the taller kid says, but he straightens a bit, rounding on Levi now, "We've got special permission to be in here."

"From who?"

"Student council," he sneers, "Jean Kirstein, Vice President, in case you didn't know."

Well, of course he's one of the pricks from Student Council. Trost Academy practically gives celebrity status to those kids; access to various campus facilities when they're off limits to everyone else, special treatment for low academic performance and an office on the sixth floor of the central tower in the middle of the school grounds, to name a few of the perks. Levi has never met any of them before and doesn't know them personally, but he's always hated them on principle.

His attention isn't on Jean, though. He's still looking at the other boy, who's slowly picking himself up off the floor. Levi takes his hands out of his pockets and crosses them over his chest. "So, what, is this where you guys haze or something?" he asks.

When he doesn't get an answer, he glances at Jean, whose suddenly wide-eyed gaze is settled on Levi's hand-more importantly, on the signet ring he wears. "Oh," Jean says, voice lowering, "So that's what this is about."

Levi stares back questioningly.

"The duels, dumbass," Jean says, "Are you new or something?" He takes a step closer to the other boy, who flinches. "If you want the Groom, you've gotta challenge me like everybody else. I'm not gonna make an exception just because you're new at this."

He's about to demand a better explanation than whatever bullshit Jean just spouted, but the other boy is looking at him almost expectantly-hopefully-and the, "Fuck, whatever, fine," leaves Levi's mouth before he's really thought about it much.

Jean glares at him. "Dueling arena at nightfall. Be there or I'll assume you ran like a bitch." Then he leaves, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the glass quiver.

The other kid is still standing there, mouth hanging open like a dead fish. "Thanks," he says finally, and Levi shrugs, turning to leave. "Wait."

He doesn't. The kid doesn't take the hint and follows him out of the garden. "Hey, I said wait," he says again, louder this time as if Levi didn't hear him.

"I don't want or need your gratitude," Levi says without stopping or even turning to look, "I didn't save you because I'm a good person. I just really hate the brats in student council." He can still hear the other boy's footsteps echoing down the hall, just a half-step slower than his own. "So if you could stop fucking following me-"

"You lost something. Or someone."

Levi stops mid stride, freezing in the middle of the hallway. He glances over his shoulder slowly, not sure he heard the kid right. "Excuse me?"

"It's an old wound, too," he goes on, teal eyes looking directly into Levi's and reading him like a book. "You don't like to talk about it. Not a lot of people know, I bet. They don't look at you closely enough." He takes a step closer, and Levi actually flinches. "Whoever you lost," he whispers, his eyes holding a terrifying intensity, "I can bring them back."

Levi feels something inside him snap, and suddenly he's got his hands in the lapels of the kid's uniform jacket, slamming him against the wall. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he seethes, "What makes you think you know a goddamn thing about me?"

The kid doesn't speak. He just looks down at Levi with an infuriating, sage-like calmness despite the storm brewing in his eyes. And against all reason, against Levi's better judgment and the fact that they just met moments ago, Levi feels like he might really know him.

"Eren," the kid says quietly, "My name is Eren."

Levi drops him to the ground and backs away, looking down in disgust. "I didn't ask for your name."

Eren dusts off his trousers, and Levi doesn't hear him following when he starts walking again. But when he's almost all the way down the hall, heading for the double doors that take him back inside, he hears him say, "I hope you win," and Levi walks a little faster, angry that the little shit thinks this has anything to do with him.

As the sun begins to set, Levi stretches and gets up from the bed in his dorm room, and for the first time ever, is actually excited to head back towards campus. The dueling arena is a complex used by Trost's various sports clubs for practice located out in the forest at the edge of campus. Levi is fairly certain that even student council members aren't supposed to be back there without permission, and he doubts Jean asked the headmaster if he could use the arena to beat someone up, which makes the whole thing twice as exciting.

He opens the door and Petra is standing there with her hands on her hips frowning in disapproval. He resists the urge to groan.

"Are you about done using the bathroom?" she asks dryly.

"Well, shit, now that you mention it, I guess not," he says, stepping around her and shutting the door behind him.

"Don't sass me," she snaps, hurrying to keep pace with him down the hall and to the front door, "You practically missed the entire day. Oluo made Eld pay for his lunch."

"Tough shit," he shrugs, "Shouldn't have made an optimistic bet."

She lets out a sound of frustration, and he hears her stop following just as he gets to the bridge that goes back to campus. Stopping momentarily to look back, he sees her sigh and drop her arms to her sides. "You're pretty much a genius, Levi," she says softly, "I know you pass your classes just fine even when you don't show up. But I feel bad when I think about you just spending all day in your dorm by yourself. Doesn't it get lonely?"

He shrugs. "Not really."

She doesn't say anything, but her gaze on him is steady, nonverbally calling him a liar.

Levi rolls his eyes. "I'll come tomorrow," he says, "And I'll stay. Happy now?"

"I'll be happy if you actually follow through," she says, but brightens up all the same. "Where are you going, anyway? We got out hours ago."

"On a walk," he lies smoothly, and she seems to buy it, nodding and offering a wave before turning to go back inside.

Levi isn't sure if any of his teachers are still out or if they've all retreated to their offices by now, so he sticks to the south side of campus as he makes his way to the forest, staying in the shadows of the open air hallways. He doesn't even hear footsteps behind him when someone suddenly cries, "Extra! Extra!" and he's surprised someone managed to catch him off-guard, turning on his heel and finding a taller student he doesn't recognize. They're dressed in casual clothing rather than a uniform, a dark jacket over a t-shirt and jeans, build tall and androgynous, hair a dark brown tied into a messy ponytail with oval glasses and a crazy grin on their face. "Have you heard?" they ask in an excited whisper, leaning in as though sharing a secret, "There's going to be a duel in the arena! I can't remember the last time that happened. Summer break might as well be a temporal anomaly when all the relevant time is spent on school grounds."

Levi blinks and goes over the words in his head again, but he's still confused. "What the fuck are you talking about?" The first thing they said clicks, though. "Are you another one of those student council pricks?"

"No, no, no," they say, shaking their head and sounding almost mortified, "I would never! I could never! I won't ever."

He tries to sidestep them, but they follow his movements. "I've got somewhere to be, so…."

"Hange Zoe," they say suddenly, holding out a hand to shake, though it's retracted just as quickly when Levi finally offers his own. "It's nice to meet you, Levi."

"Look, you're kind of pissing me off," Levi starts to say until he realizes he never gave his name. "Hold on, who-?"

"You're new," Hange says.

"No, I'm a second year."

"Not to the school, silly." Hange grins again. "Which means you don't know the rules yet. Those are the best duels, honestly. If you don't know what's at stake, you've got nothing to lose, right?"

"What?"

"Right," Hange nods, "But don't let me hold you up anymore. The student council vice president may be new to the school, but he's been at this a lot longer than you. Although any time at all would be a lot longer than you, so take that for what you will."

They finally step out of the way, and Levi doesn't know what to say, or if he should even bother saying anything, so he just starts walking. "Extra, extra! Have you heard?" he hears Hange calling behind him, but when he turns around, they're not talking to anyone, "There's a newcomer out to change the world! Someone stop him before he hurts himself!"

Having never been to the dueling arena, Levi honestly wasn't sure what to expect, but he's thankful for the paved path that cut straight through the forest. Unfortunately, it leads him to a dead end with a sculpture garden, and an enormous statue that could be bird-shaped if he squints looms over him in the center. There's no sign of anything even vaguely resembling an arena anywhere, but there is something that looks like a handle at eye-level attached to the bird-thing-statue, so Levi pulls on it, only to find that it doesn't budge. He's about to give up when he feels something cold hit his finger and pulls his hand away to find his ring wet.

Like a switch was pulled, everything starts to move.

The ground beneath him seems to heave with breath, and the smaller statues on either side begin spitting water, suddenly releasing waterfalls into the grass. The pathway he walked on elevates slightly, and the bird statue before him changes, the wings stretching outwards and rotating until they form the school crest, and the body rising to reveal a doorway and a staircase. Levi is still a little confused from his encounter with Hange earlier and is starting to think he must have fallen asleep, but with nowhere else to go, he decides to move forward, ascending the staircase to what he hopes is the arena.

He seems to walk forever, but he doesn't feel tired. The staircase spirals upwards high above campus and ends at a wide platform. Levi's steps slow when he takes a look around, suddenly realizing just how high up he is, seeing the evening sky and clouds all around him. When he finally arrives at the top of the stairs, he has to stop, awestruck by the sight of hundreds, maybe thousands, of roses carpeting the ground. It's a giant garden. When he looks up, he has to stare a moment at that, too, because there's something up there in the sky, just floating. He can't quite tell what it is because the sun has already set, but he knows there's something there.

"Took your time getting here," he hears Jean say, and looks across the platform to find the student council vice president with Eren standing a few steps behind him. Levi come further into the garden, leaving only a few feet between them. It's only then that he notices the ring on Jean's finger-one that's exactly the same as his.

"Where did you get that?" Levi demands.

"We all have one," Jean says, sounding as if the answer should be obvious.

"He doesn't have a sword," Eren suddenly chimes in.

Jean crosses his arms over his chest. "What the hell are you trying to pull?" he asks angrily, "You challenged me and didn't even bother to show up with a weapon?"

"What the fuck is going on here?" Levi yells, tired of all the weird, vague bullshit that's happened so far today. "What is this duel shit you keep going on about? Where the fuck are we?"

Jean is still silent a little while after he finishes with his outburst. "You seriously don't know?" he asks, sounding a little less angry and a lot more concerned. "How can you not know? You're even wearing a ring."

Somewhere in the distance, Levi hears a noise like church bells ringing.

Jean looks away from him. "Guess it doesn't matter," he says, "Jeager, get us set up."

"You can't duel him," Eren says, glaring up at the taller boy, "He doesn't have a sword."

Jean grips him by the collar in one hand and sneers, "I heard you the first time. Now hurry up," and then tosses him away.

Levi watches Eren's shoulders sink and doesn't understand why the boy turns away meekly when he still sees that anger in his eyes. He knows he has fight in him-so why doesn't he stand up for himself? Eren turns his back to Levi in front of Jean for a moment before he steps away, and Levi sees a rose pinned to Jean's breast pocket over his heart. Suddenly, Eren is in front of him, pinning one on the front of Levi's shirt, as well.

"You don't know the rules, do you?" he asks.

"No, I don't," Levi says, "If you could explain that, and everything fucking else, that would be great."

Eren's lips twitch as if he wants to smile, but he doesn't. "The way this works," he says, "Is that you're gonna try to knock the rose off of his chest. Doesn't matter how. If you have to kill him to do it, that's fine, too."

Levi's eyes widen. "Wait, what?"

"If you knock his rose off of his chest, you win," Eren continues, "But if your rose is knocked off first, then you lose. Make sense?"

"Wait, did you say if I had to kill him…."

"Yes, that's what he said," Jean cuts in, and Eren walks back to his side. "Damn. You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into." His attention returns to Eren, who presses his hands to his chest, and starts to glow.

"You who sleeps at the end of the world," he mutters, and Levi has to shield his eyes momentarily from the light coming from the kid. A breeze suddenly blows across the arena, rustling the rose petals at their feet. "Heed your master and come forth."

Jean closes the short distance between him and Eren, putting an arm around his waist and slowly tipping him back as if he plans to kiss the boy. Levi would like to know what's going on for probably the thirtieth time in the last half hour or so, but before he says anything, a sword handle appears in a burst of light from Eren's chest, and when Jean pulls it free, a blade follows. He whispers something in Eren's ear that Levi doesn't catch over the wind before it finally dies down and the light vanishes.

The bells are ringing again, and Levi can hear them clearly. And then, Jean is charging at him with the sword aimed at his heart.

Levi dives out of the way, tumbling into the roses and rolling to safety, but the vice president recovers quickly, holding the phantom sword in front of him and using a stance that Levi recognizes from the school's kendo club. So he's not just some jock; he really knows what he's doing. Levi tries not to look nervous.

"I almost feel bad about this," Jean mutters, "If you want me to make it fast, just hold still. There's no reason for you to get hurt over something you don't care about."

Levi can see Eren over his shoulder, watching them from the center of the platform. He can still see that rage simmering inside of him, but on top of that, Levi sees something like hope. He doesn't know this kid, and he still doesn't know what's going on, but he knows he doesn't like to lose fights. Jean takes another step forward, and Levi steps back, shielding his rose with his hands.

"Suit yourself," Jean growls, and charges again.

Levi tries to sidestep him and gets the left side of the his jacket shredded as a result. He almost trips over something in the roses but manages to roll to the side a little further when Jean come at him again, lifting whatever it was out of the flowers and holding it up to defend himself. It turns out to be a broom, and Jean actually cuts it in half.

Levi is expecting some dumb remark or for Jean to say something at least, but he's gone completely silent, seemingly possessed by the desire to cut the rose from his chest. His eyes are wide and mad, his grip on the sword turning his knuckles white. Levi has nothing more than half of a wooden handle, but he looks again to Eren standing a few feet away and how he's fidgeting, popping the joints in his hands anxiously, and he somehow finds the will to keep going.

Getting to his feet, he puts some distance between himself and Jean and watches for him to raise his sword again to charge. The moment Jean's foot comes forward, Levi starts to move, slowly at first to meet him halfway, but he ducks under the strike, throws himself forward and forces the fractured broom handle past the phantom sword and towards his chest. He's not sure if he did anything; it doesn't feel like he connected, so he at least doesn't feel bad about accidentally stabbing the kid with the splintering end of the broom, but as he rights himself and backs away from Jean, he finds him standing completely still and hears the bells tolling ominously far away as rose petals blow fast his face. There's nothing on his chest anymore.

The vice president falls to his knees, and the phantom sword vanishes from his hands. Slowly, he turns around, eyes wide but no longer angry.

"No," he whispers, "No, that...that wasn't…." He looks to Eren desperately, who has begun walking towards Levi. "Jeager, you can't...you can't leave me." He climbs clumsily to his feet, no longer the same confident brat Levi saw less than five minutes ago and stumbles over to them, still managing to fall a few feet away. His fists his hands in the bottom of the jacket of Eren's uniform. "He doesn't even know what he's doing. He-he probably doesn't even know what to do! Please Jeager...Eren…." Levi almost can't look at him. He sounds so broken and desperate, as if he condemned him to his death.

Eren looks down at him, expression unreadable, before Levi sees him smile for the first time. "Sorry, Jean. Guess I'll see you in class."

The bells continue to ring, signaling the end of something. Levi doesn't know what he's done, but he's afraid.

What a fucking night, Levi thinks, hands in his pockets as he walks back across campus. He still doesn't know what happened, and he's not sure he wants to. He's pretty sure Jean would be fine if they never talked about it again. He's just over the bridge and a little ways away when he sees someone waiting for him around the next corner, their shadow giving them away. Levi stops walking and waits, and the person slowly steps under the streetlamp.

It's Eren.

"I changed my mind," Levi says, "I really don't want to know, so you don't need to explain."

He pauses, though, when he realizes something odd about Eren's eyes-he doesn't look angry anymore. He looks a little tired and maybe irritated, but Levi sees something deeper that he can't quite put a name to. Whatever it is, Levi thinks he's seen it when he looks in the mirror sometimes.

"Your name is Levi, isn't it?" he asks.

For some reason, his heart starts beating faster. "Yeah," he says slowly.

Eren smiles a little. "You remember my name, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Eren walks over to him and stands a little too close for comfort. "Because you and I are engaged now."