A/N: Konnichiwa, minna-san! Storm here! ^^ Thank you for reading! ^^ Check out my other stories on XwinterstormX! That's my personal account.

Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: We don't own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan!

Damn job, damn city, damn fucking country. I was sick of this life, and of the same ordinary thing. I wake up; I see a young face in front of me, along with bright green eyes that flecked with a bit of gold near the pupil. The chocolate colored hair blended in nicely with the slightly tan skin, and the boyish face of the young man that was turning into a man.

Eren was his name: Eren Jaeger, the boy with the green eyes.

How old was he? I wondered. Is he in this life? Is he okay, did he have any memories of the past? Did he remember how he died, does he hate me?

I sighed, gripping my bag tighter, making my knuckles turn white. I walked faster, doing everything I could to get the burning green eyes out of my head. As my mind faded back into the shitty, disgusting world we lived in, I heard the beeping of cars and people yelling. The air was thicker, and it filled with all different types of smells. I could pick out coffee, pretzels, cigarettes, along with gas from the many surrounding cars and taxis.

I growled at the crowds of people at the corner of the street, who were all waiting for the cars to stop so they could walk, and sadly, I was one of the latter. The cars finally stopped, their light turning red while the crosswalk's turned green. We huddled across the street, staying in a pack and heading our separate ways across the city of Trost. A strong, cold breeze snaked its way through the tall skyscrapers, whistling in my ears. I sighed to myself, heading closer to my apartment on 5th and 42nd, cringing inwardly at the mess of the crowded city. I rounded the corner of one of the blocks, the surroundings getting more and more familiar, until finally I approached my apartment.

Well, mansion was more of the word.

My apartment was two stories, Greek architecture lining the entrance, a marble walkway and stairs meeting the dark green door. The second floor had a balcony with two large French doors, the balcony a soft white stone, matching the shutters on the windows parallel to the doors. The whole thing was a soft tan, leading to a garden in the back, which wasn't all that big, since I decided to live in Trost. I still managed to wonder if moving to a place in Japan was a stupid move on my part.

I should've moved to Germany, I thought, and tried to find him. Why the hell would a German be in Japan?

Originally, I was born and raised in France. My parents were very wealthy, and they were very rich composers. I was educated at the top schools, as well as having my own private tutors-well, that was until I disrespected my father. Afterwards, I got the choice of staying in France for high school, or going to a country I chose. With my Japanese as good as it was, and with a slight feeling in my gut that that shitty brat would be here, I chose the country of Japan, and I was shipped off to Trost. My parents let me borrow their 'apartment' that they just 'had to buy,' and so, that was where I remained.

I pulled my keys out of the bag I was holding, unlocking the door and stepping inside to the huge home. The door swung open, and I shut it just as easily, not that it was that heavy anyway. I stared at the open floor plan, the kitchen on my right, and the living room on my left.

Both floors were hardwood, but there was a carpet underneath the white leather couches, which was a soft grey. The living room walls were a purple-ish grey, white trim lining the walls. The kitchen turned into a stone-like tile, with a white granite island in the middle of the kitchen. The countertops were all granite, the cabinets a cherry red; a metallic fridge nestled in between the break in the counters, across from the island.

I took off my shoes, leaving them on the doormat neatly, also hanging my jacket up on the rack, along with my school bag, which was full of library books at the moment.

I padded towards the back of the house, a hallway set in the middle of the floor, right beside the elegant, winding stairs that led to the master bedroom, guest room, along with a few other rooms.

I stepped into the large back room, the usually open windows shut with curtains covering them, trying to keep out the winter air. The room was a soft carpet, causing me to curl my socked toes into the rug, as I looked at the pastel green walls, along with the expensive exercise equipment.

I ignored the equipment for a moment, shedding my uniform's shirt, and putting on the spare, clean, black tank top. I slipped out of my pants, throwing on the sweats that slightly hugged my frame, causing me to sigh out of sheer happiness that I was out of school and in my clean, quiet house.

I worked out for about an hour and a half, nothing in particular, mostly working on my already visible eight pack abs, along with cardio. After I was finished and sweating up a storm as I clicked my tongue in annoyance, I walked up the stairs and went straight into the bathroom to shower. The water was nice and hot, and I focused on getting completely clean, scrubbing my skin free of the sweat and grime from school and exercising.

As I got out, I wrapped a towel around my waist and wiped the water off of the foggy mirror. I stared at myself for a moment, before grabbing the comb and yanking it through my raven locks.

My skin was as white as porcelain, the raven colored hair contrasting against the pale skin. I was, well, vertically challenged, but I had one of the best bodies in the school, not that anyone knew. I sighed, running a hand through my wet hair, "I hate high school."

I was, sadly, one of the shortest in my class, but I always made the best grades. Also, thanks to my parentage, I was tri-lingual: I knew English, Japanese, and French.

I stretched, the towel clinging snuggly to my waist as I put on a pair of slippers and headed to my bedroom.

My room wasn't anything fancy, just a queen sized bed, a nightstand, and a large television towards the door of the white room, across the room from the bed, standing on a dresser. My closet was beside the bathroom, a large walk-in, which held the couple of uniforms, along with a small glass dresser that held my sleep stuff.

I grabbed boxers and a pair of pants, sliding them on as I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, pulling some leftovers from the night before and heating them up. It was just a basic meal, nothing too special. I walked into the living room, my slippers making more noise than my feet would, and I turned on the TV to hear what was going on in the world of Japan. Sighing contentedly as Japanese rang through my ears, I walked back to the kitchen to grab the container that was in the microwave, along with grabbing a fork.

As I ate, I watched the news, images of a serial killer's destruction on air, and it seemed to be breaking news. A number of families were shown, crying and saying how they hoped the killer would be caught. I frowned slightly, more inward than outward, since my face never showed emotion. I heard something stir behind me, and I slinked away, but calmed as I noticed who it was.

"Oi, Hanji," I growled, noticing the intruder in the back room, "get your fat ass over here."

I heard a cackle as a woman with the same uniform as I wore earlier-a black blazer with a tucked-in tie and a blue skirt-slowly advanced towards me.

"Hey, Rivai!"

"Call me that again, shitty four eyes, I dare you," I snarled back as I continuously ate. She sighed, the glasses on her face hiding her eyes. Her hair looked more brown than plum-colored in the light of the living room, and she looked more hyped than usual.

"Rivaille, there's a new student coming tomorrow!" she shouted, beaming at me, "I don't know his name, but I've heard he's really cute!"

"Hanji," I turned to look at her again, my brow twitching in annoyance, "I swing that way, yes, but for a certain person."

"Who?"

"No way in hell am I telling you," I snapped back, turning back to the TV.

Hanji and I went way back, since our parents were best friends, from high school onward. I'd grown up with her, and she was fine with how much of an ass I could be, but I never told her about my dreams. She still doesn't seem to remember, though, our lives before this, or the amazing green-eyed Eren.

I huffed a sigh, finishing my food and shutting off the TV. I turned to Hanji, "are you staying here, shitty glasses? Or should I kick you out? Because either way, I'm going to sleep."

Hanji nodded, taking off her shoes at the back door and strode inside, and I felt a little less lonely, despite the hole that was always there as I went on with my life. I sighed, washing my dishes, drying them, and putting them neatly away as I trudged up the stairs, grumbling about Hanji making a mess in my kitchen.

"Don't be too loud, Hanji," I called down to her, "and don't make my house dirty, or I'll kill you."

She responded with a laugh, causing me to groan and walk into my room with a hand over my face. I shut the door behind me, turning on the radio as I went, along with slightly opening the curtains to let the moonlight pour in. It caressed the few inches of snow, and lit up the whole room as I shed the slippers and crawled into bed, praying for a dreamless sleep that night.

But, as always, that wish was never granted.

"Rivaille!" Eren called happily, his green eyes shining, "guess what?"

"What, Jaeger?" I answered back, my voice laced with intrigue.

"I turn eighteen tomorrow! We can get married whenever we want now!"

With that, Eren beamed, his face as radiant as the sun. My heart lurched and ached in my chest, and I knew I didn't show it, but I knew my eyes did. Eren reached out for me, wrapping his arms around my torso, leaning down to kiss me.

I awoke, my chest feeling like it was breaking, to a beeping alarm clock. Groggily, I rolled over and slammed my hand down on it, groaning and rubbing my eyes as I sat up. I felt the cold morning air hit my body and I shivered, racing over to close the slightly cracked window.

I gazed outside, the snow once again higher, but not enough to ever close the public high school I went to. I sighed, growling in French at the weather, as I walked into my closet to pull on my uniform.

As I put on the blazer and tucked in my tie, I patted it to make sure no wrinkles formed, and I neatly folded my pajamas as I placed them in the hamper. Yawning, I walked into the bathroom to comb out my messy bed head. With that done, I headed to Hanji's room to 'wake' her up.

She didn't budge the first time, so, I kicked her. It wasn't a hard kick, it was just one hard enough to wake her up, and it was only in her arm. The woman yelped, holding her arm as she woke, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Up, shitty glasses," I growled, "time for school."

And, with that, I went downstairs to make two cups of hot caffeine.

As the coffee brewed, I made myself lunch, not bothering to feed Hanji. If she wanted food, she could make it herself; she knew my house well enough.

And, as if one cue, she came running down the stairs in her uniform, screaming about being late and food. She hastily made herself something for lunch as I made toast for the both of us. I walked over to the coat rack and put on my coat and scarf, walking over as the toast popped up. I got the pieces out, tossing one to Hanji as I scarfed mine down.

Slipping on my shoes and grabbing my bag, I made my way out of the house, followed by Hanji, who walked beside me and pointed out how short I was. We talked about the new kid for a little while, along with regular small talk and about tests we soon had to take later in the week. As for tests, I was already studying, while Hanji just blew it off.

Sooner than I thought, we reached school and traded in our shoes for sneakers at the lockers. Then, we headed for class, and the whole student body seemed to be buzzing with anticipation to meet the new teen. Some girls swooned, while others talked about how they hoped he was in their class.

Shrugging my curiosity aside, I marched to class and slammed the door open, causing people to jump and stare. Hanji quickly caught up to me, breathing heavily. We took our seats as I hooked my bag to the side of the desk, and the bell for homeroom rang. Kids poured inside, and most were anxiously staring towards the door.

"Class," the teacher-Petra-sensei-called, "I have someone I'd like for you all to meet."

My heart started to speed up, and it started to get harder to keep on the mask I always wore. The door slowly opened, and feet stepped inside, then blue pants were seen, and slowly, a tan face was seen. I stared at the wide, green eyes in pure shock, my body shaking as butterflies filled my stomach. I gaped as the boy nervously ran a hand through his chocolate locks. I stood shakily, not sure why I did.

"This is our new student," Petra-sensei said happily, "his name is-"

The name fell out of my mouth in a whisper, and the boy stared at me curiously, "Eren Jaeger."