It was a cold, dreary kind of day when Amaya Ackerman passed away.

It was a fall afternoon, unusually wet for the season in these parts when she left this world. Her death brought a weird sensation of change to the air, one that Emi hadn't accounted for.

It made the world seem... heavier and lined with more shadows, somehow. It was strange. She knew of the mental fatigue that grief brought. She didn't realize that there would be physical difficulties as well. She had no way of knowing that the death of a single person would make the entire world that framed her existence seem darker.

But the day had not started the moment her mother had died. The day had been long. Emi had known from the first second that she realized she was even awake that it would be a long, grueling day. She only hadn't known just how hard and grueling it would be until she slipped into her bed, her energy drained and her emotions having already run dry hours before.

Emiko had known that something was wrong when she woke up that morning because she could feel it. It was a deeply unsettling feeling, one that made you feel sick as a dog even if you were in peak physical health.

A lot of people often felt something like that. It was a foreboding feeling that felt like a physical weight that bore down on your shoulders until you figured out what was wrong. Fortunately, Emi figured out what was wrong quickly because she'd felt this feeling before. She hadn't felt it in a while, sure, but it was distinct and her natural intuition had clued her into what was wrong rather quickly.

The last time she felt it would have been the day her father died. He'd been the strongest man she'd ever known. Was it strange to think that he couldn't die? She supposed she'd been naïve in that regard. He was human. That meant that one day, he would die. And he had.

That'd been a pretty bleak day too, from what she remembered of it. But she couldn't really remember much other than the sorrow that had encapsulated her entire being for that entire day. Not because it was long ago, no. It was more so because it'd been such a sad day, only the feeling of grief remained when she thought of it.

The details of what had happened had blurred and she honestly couldn't differentiate between what happened on the day of his death and the days that followed in which she and her mother held each other for what felt like weeks as they lamented his loss.

Emi had cried more on that day than any other day so far in her life. Once again, she'd been naïve, because she thought that her mother would have been stronger, that she would hold in her tears. That she would hold in her feelings as she always had so people wouldn't worry about her. But the truth of the matter was that her mother had been no better than herself. She'd cried right alongside her daughter.

Levi didn't have too many people in his life since the war, the two most important being his two girls. Emi had always been close with her father. It was a dark day for the both of his girls when Levi passed, peaceful though it was. But she was still living with that grief, even now. It'd only been a few months, sure, but it'd been quite a taxing few months. One that was easier to shoulder with her mother's help.

But now her mother was gone, too.

Both had lived long lives, longer than either of them had thought possible. The two of them had joked about it, lots of times, about how they were on borrowed time and were sure to die as soon as karma caught up to them. The frequency of the jokes only increased as they got older and they got more and more suspicious as to why they were able to steal so much time.

Her parents both knew that they could've died in battle on so many occasions but by luck and skill and assuredly the grace of Ymir, they'd managed to get through it. They'd had their scars, their nightmares, their fears. But they'd endured, and managed to live long, healthy lives.

Not only in battle, but they could've died... at any time. They never spoke much about the way they grew up but Emi knew that it had been dangerous, even when they were kids. They lived... where? Underground? She still wasn't sure about how all that worked but she never pressed for more details than they were willing to share. She grew up around a lot of soldiers; she knew when to ask and when not to.

But now... her parents are gone. Both of them.

Her father, proud and stubborn and grumpy, had left this world first. And as she'd assured him long ago, his wife had been with him until his final breaths, holding back her tears and only looking on, offering him quiet, loving words only meant for his ears to catch as he took his final breaths, his body easing into its eternal rest.

He wasn't sick, or at least sicker than any other old man. His body was just old and frail and slowly lost its energy which was, she supposed, a mercy. Compared to the damage his body had endured the rest of his life, she was happy that at least his death was painless and surrounded by loved ones.

It wasn't a soldier's death, on the field in pain and suffering in the mud. It was a father's death, in the warmth of his own home where he was comfortable and surrounded by his family.

Feeling that same sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach on that fall morning when she woke up, she hadn't bothered to open the shop for the day because she knew what the feeling meant. The usual customers, while disappointed, merely went about their day. They'd come round tomorrow anyway and there were plenty of other places to grab a cup of their morning tea.

So, Emi went right to the shop though it remained closed, instead heading upstairs to the living space her parents had occupied for a long, long time now.

Emiko supposed she should have seen it coming.

A bird could only fly with two wings, of course, and so she figured she shouldn't have been surprised that it wasn't too long after her father's death that her mother followed. Her health and energy had been declining steadily over these past few months.

It was one of those things you couldn't quite stall or do anything about, so all Emiko could really do was make sure her mother was comfortable and happy. And as far as she could tell, she'd been successful in doing both.

And today... her mother had hardly been able to lift her head to greet her when she arrived at the door to the bedroom. Emi had stayed at her bedside all morning, but it was at the turn to the afternoon that her mother had taken her final breaths. Only minutes before this, though, her mother had reached for her hands, then shied away.

"Emiko, my darling," she had said.

Her voice had been soft and shaky. It was laced with assurance and yet hesitance too. It was very unlike her mother's usual tone and yet Emiko had been able to guess that this was the one she would take now.

Emi could hear the way she was trying to be strong, to keep her voice as steady as she could for her daughter's sake. To sound reassuring, even as unsure as she was as she approached her death. Her voice had been quiet to avoid wasting unnecessary breath and as it always was, it was full of love and care.

Emi wasn't stupid. She knew the kind of woman her mother was. Always more concerned with everyone else, rather than saving her strength to stretch her final few moments in this world. Emi didn't dare complain though. It's what made her mother who she was. And she wouldn't change a thing.

"Could you reach into the drawer there for me, please?"

"Of course," Emi had replied, confused even as she complied. She pulled the bedside drawer open, peeking inside at the only two things inhabiting it. "What am I grabbing for you, mama?"

"Between the two journals," she explained, "there should be a slip of paper. It's small, but you can't miss it."

Emi nodded, lifting the first journal away and with the other hand, grabbed the small, folded piece of paper underneath. It was dry, weathered, the folds in the paper so fine and delicate that the slightest movements would tear it. She handed it to her mother. "Thank you, love."

"What is it?"

"A letter," her mother responded cheekily. She unfolded it gingerly, holding it with the utmost care. Emi's eyes focused on the slight tremor in her mother's usually steady hands, but forced them away. She didn't want her final memory of her mother to be what her hands were doing, of the way she slowly lost the strength to even hold her hands up.

"From who?"

"Your father," Amaya replied, love and tenderness and reverence lacing her tone, along with a certain amount of wistfulness. "I know I'm dying, but... I wanted to read this before I go. I've been holding onto it for all this time."

"You've never read it?"

"He told me not to read it until he died. What was I supposed to do, read it in front of him? He'd kick me."

"Mama," Emi sighed. "Dad's been gone for months now. Why do you have to cut everything so close?"

Those words got a noncommittal shrug and a quiet laugh from her mother. Emiko cemented the scene in her memory.

Her mother... wasn't scared of death. She wasn't afraid. She was smiling. She was able to laugh.

...Or maybe she was. Maybe she was terrified. She always had been quite the actress. Those few stints of community theater hadn't even scratched the surface of what she could do.

Emi stood with the intent to sit next to her mother on the bed, to read along with her, but she pressed the page flat to her chest and tutted. "Emi, you can't read it!"

"What? Why?" Emi plopped her butt back into the seat, her eyes blown wide while her mother giggled like a little girl.

"Because it's a love letter! The very first one Levi ever wrote me!"

"That's exactly why I want to read it!"

"Read it when I'm dead," her mother huffed, and that was that.

Emi watched as her mother's face shifted from pure devotion and love to shock and something akin to giddiness as she progressed through the letter. A few parts were bittersweet, so Emi guessed, if her mother's reverent, knowing smile was any indication.

But a lot of it had her mother smiling, chuckling, or holding her free hand against her heart at parts that were probably extremely, overtly sweet - or the bare minimum amount of sweet, which was far more than her father usually had been when alive. While she wanted to read it (and she would, no doubt), she was content for now to just watch her mother do so.

By the time she was done reading, the door to the room flew open and in ran Emi's children. Amaya set the letter to the side, her eyes watery and her smile warm as she directed her eyes to her grandchildren. "Hello, darlings!"

Emi's children ran right for their grandmother, completely ignoring their mother but it was fine. Today wasn't about her. Emi's spouse walked in after, slower and far more quietly than the children had, resting a comforting hand on Emi's shoulder. They were all just in time, too. The grandchildren gave their final goodbyes and were gently ushered out of the room as their grandmother began to cough.

Emiko Ackerman held her mom's hand as she lost her strength. Finally, Emi could see the tension finally lift from her mother's shoulders, the burden of decades of fighting and helping whomever she could finally easing away from her body. Her mother was now free of everything that had ever harmed her, worried her, and burdened her. That big great heart of hers could finally rest.

Emi was grateful for that at least, but god damn would she miss her mother.

Her mother squeezed her hand, then drew in a final deep breath. When she exhaled it, her eyes fluttered closed and... she was gone.

—

When next Emiko returned to the teashop, she worked alone to get everything ready for the day. She'd considered, a few times in her life, that maybe she wanted some other career for her life. But the shop was warm and familiar and comfortable, and she had to admit that she was rather good at what she did. And with Falco and Gabi to help, well, it wasn't so bad.

She'd inherited her father's strong work ethic and desire to do things right, and her mother's patience and skill when dealing with people among other things. She'd been told throughout her life that she could do whatever she put her mind to; she had the skill, the brain, and the heart to, certainly. But she felt like she belonged here. She couldn't see herself doing anything else with anyone else.

She and her parents had been well-traveled by the time the shop had even opened, so well-traveled and for so long that she was able to clearly recall the day that the shop had been bought. Thinking back any further than that day meant trudging through hazy, murky fog that she couldn't decipher. She couldn't remember much at all beyond the time that she'd traveled with her parents. It used to give her headaches, trying to think back that far, so she stopped trying.

But sometimes in her dreams she'd see huge creatures, manlike and steaming, crushing anything and everything in their wake. She could hear screaming, that of a child... perhaps it was her own? But she never had that dream for long. She'd always wake up. And once when she'd told her parents about it...

"One last blessing from Eren," her mother had supposed.

The words were cryptic and surprisingly, her father had agreed with little more than a nod of his head and a shared, guarded look with her mother.

"Be happy you can't remember it," her father had told her. "Now come on. Those dishes won't dry themselves."

Once everything was ready for the morning, Emi turned the open sign on the door around and headed behind the counter. Her eyes drifted towards the sign hung just outside and above the door, the same one her parents had cut, carved, and painted when they bought the place.

Ikeda Family Teashop was the name. It was simple, explanatory, and allowed them to step away from the blood that made their family special. Emi had been told years ago about how Ackerman blood was peculiar. How they had, at one time, been blessed with strength yet cursed with that very same strength at the same time. They'd been sworn to always protect the royal family with heightened instinct and reflexes.

She had no idea if that power was even still within her. When all the titans were killed, well, no one had been specific if the minute traces of titan strength had been removed from both her system and that of her father's. It didn't matter. She'd never been in danger anyway.

In the public eye, they were Ikeda's. The Ackerman family name was well-known, even beyond Paradis' borders. If anyone recognized it and sold them out, they'd be in trouble, apparently. Emi had learned in school all about the War of 854 culminating in the Battle of Heaven and Earth.

She'd learned about the way that traitors to Paradis Island had moved against, and had consequently stopped, Eren and the Rumbling. Her parents were included in that. And shortly after, her family had left the island and came here. They traveled, seeing the world's many wonders, before returning, buying the shop, and settling in.

And the world was none the wiser that some of Paradis' deadliest clan now lived peacefully under the noses of this country's heads of government.

After traveling and buying the shop, Emi started school, though at that point she hadn't known that she herself was of dirty blood, those that had once been able to turn into titans but could no longer. It wasn't until much later that her parents had told her.

She understood the reason why, of course. Kids do nothing but talk and if someone overheard her say that she and her family were of Paradis heritage, they'd be outed from this country or worse, killed on the spot. Hell, even so much as admitting that they were Eldian would prove dangerous for their family.

Even now, Paradis was always making the news. The world kept a watchful eye on them. They had a strong though unorthodox military, when compared to that of the other nations. While of course she had a lot of friends here, and the extended families of Onyankopon, Falco, and Gabi (and the pair's growing family), she also knew that her parents' oldest friends were once their subordinates. They'd been the last remaining veteran forces of – what was it, the Survey Corps?

Well, in any case, the world knew the name Ackerman as the dangerous clan from Paradis that had close ties with the royal line. So, that's what they decided to do when they moved: change their main surname. Not that they were ashamed of her father's name, but because it would give them away.

It was tough, knowing that this wasn't where she'd been born. That this was not her home continent. That she could likely never visit the place she'd been born, where her parents had spent most of their lives. But this was home now and had become a form of true paradise for her parents, so she was content.

Emi bit back a yawn and smoothed out her clothes. But there was a crinkle of something in her pocket as she did, and her movements slowed. She reached into that pocket, tugging out the piece of paper tucked inside. Emi held the single folded piece of paper carefully between two fingers. The yellowed paper caught the light streaming in through the large windows in the front of the shop, the words bleeding through.

Oh, the love letter.

After her mother had passed, Emiko had stayed in the room quietly for a long, long while. It wasn't until her spouse came in to check on her that she decided to leave. Her spouse offered her more time to sit there. She could stay and grieve; the kids would be well taken care of. But Emi had refused.

She took the love letter, the two journals, pressed another kiss to her mother's forehead, and left the room. Workers came by and removed her body covered by a thin white sheet, and took her to the morgue. She'd been cremated, set in a nearly identical urn as Emi's father.

It was custom made and shipped right from Paradis. Emi's parents hadn't told her how they wanted to be kept before they died, whether they wanted to be buried somewhere or anything of the sort, so this was what she chose. She'd written to one of their friends as her father's health declined, urging them for help. He'd written to the queen of Paradis, and soon, the urns had been sent her way.

And now they sat together on the mantle in the living room of Emi's home for now. She hadn't known where else to put them.

Emi found it strange. She'd never quite seen death, not until her father died. She'd heard of others dying, including relatives of her friends growing up. Even one of their old family friends had died a few years ago. What was his name... Reyes?

He was apparently close with her mother but never had he visited and never had they gone to visit him. They couldn't even go back to Paradis for his funeral anyhow, and she couldn't remember a damn thing about him in order to grieve for him. But that's besides the point.

There hadn't ever been anyone for her to grieve for. Even her spouse had grieved before. It seemed that after the war that everyone had something to grieve but as things had settled down, death was as it had been before in peaceful countries. It wasn't as prevalent as her parents' stories had made it seem. She knew they were soldiers but she'd never seen death before. And yet they'd seen it in large amounts.

It was just... strange. She wished now that she hadn't been so curious about it, curious to know how it felt to grieve, because after feeling it for herself, she knew that it was something she never wanted to experience ever again.

The bell of the door sounded, and Emi straightened up as the first customer of the day came in, excited to see the shop open again after days of being closed. She tucked the letter back into her pocket. She'd read it later.

—

True to how he'd always done it, Uncle Jean had entered the shop only minutes before it closed. He greeted her warmly, though tiredly. It caught Emiko by surprise, at first, before she remembered that she herself had invited him here. And all of the "brats", as her father called them.

They were to have a form of memorial service for her parents now that both were dead. It just seemed fitting. Their lives had for so long been so uniquely intertwined, Emi thought that well, they'd probably enjoy something like this.

That was why Jean was here. But he was early. Days early, in fact. She arranged for them all to arrive a couple of days before the service so they would have time to settle in and recuperate from the trip, but this was excessive. Then again... Jean has always been a strange one. And always close with Amaya. Perhaps that was why he was here.

"Hey, kiddo," Jean said, coming to lean against the counter as she wiped tables clean. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," came her curt reply.

Jean chuckled. "You're just like your father, it's scary. Come on, I know you better than that."

"I'm not sure what I should say to you," Emi admitted. "I'm devastated. But you know that already, don't you? Why should I say it?"

"Because it's healthy to, for a start," Jean said easily. "I knew your mom well and I know she wouldn't have raised you to close yourself off like this."

"Well, sorry I don't have my speech ready yet," Emi smart-mouthed. "You're early. It's your own fault. And besides, it's still my workday. I'm not getting emotional unless I have to - in which case I'll go cry in the bathroom."

That made Jean laugh openly. "Jeez, kid. Fine, forget I asked." A pause. "I'm assuming you got your mother back by now."

"I did," Emi replied, her tone gentler now. "Do you want to see her?"

"I would."

"I just need a few minutes here," Emi said, tugging a spare towel out of the pocket of her apron. "Make yourself useful and it'll be done sooner." Then she tossed the towel at him. Her aim had been true and his reflexes slow, so it hit him in the face. The older man sputtered, tearing it away from his face and examining it, grimacing at all the stains lining it. Emi laughed, but busied herself with her work again. "Oops?"

"Oops, my ass," Jean muttered. "Of all things to get from your father, you get that..."

Only minutes later, Emi led Jean to her home. While her parents had occupied the living space settled above the shop, when Emi was of age, she'd moved out and even now, remained in the same home she'd bought with her spouse.

Her spouse was still at work, their kids with Gabi and Falco and their own kids for the day. There'd been a day off from school, it being a holiday of some kind, she wasn't sure what, but it didn't matter because she hadn't been able to find a sitter in time – until Gabi and Falco had stepped in.

Upon stepping into the home, Jean removed his hat and jacket, then followed Emi as she headed to the living room. There, set atop the mantlepiece, sat the two urns. They were dark in color, the only decoration being the white outlines of the Wings of Freedom. Their names were on their respective urns in white, delicately traced towards the bottom of each.

Also set there was her mother's knife, initialed with her grandfather's name, her mother's name, and her own, but she'd never needed to use it; the patches from the jackets of many a Scout, like her parent's old squad; and the unique unicorn emblem that once belonged to her grandfather as well.

They'd had to always hide that... memorabilia from guests. It was a good thing she wasn't expecting guests save for those who had lived and worked with her parents on Paradis, so she didn't need to do that now.

"These two," Jean mused quietly, "they're the kind of people that you start to think are immortal. Everything your mother had told me about how she grew up, well, it was amazing that the two of them lived nearly as long as they had."

"I know," Emi replied, her voice just as quiet.

"She brought up one of her old friends from the underground to work with us by the coast," Jean continued, his eyes focused solely on the urn set in front of him.

The urns were lifeless, still, unmoving. And yet there seemed to be a certain power to them, their mere presences adding a weight to the room, as though the two lost souls were still there among them.

"Mason, you mean?"

"That's right," he confirmed. "He and Amaya would sing for us on some evenings." Then he turned his head to smile at the girl that, so long ago, he'd babysat frequently. "You'd dance by the fire for everyone."

Emi laughed. "A toddler, dancing? By a fire? Sounds irresponsible to me."

"Your father always kept a close eye on you," Jean assured her. "He'd never let you get too close."

Emi thought back. Was there a time she could remember when her father had been able to walk, further than just across the living room? His walking had improved over the years as his leg regained some of the strength it once had, but never had he been back to where he'd once been. He'd been the strongest soldier on Paradis, once upon a time, but... as far as she could remember, he'd always been confined to sitting in his chair.

"The point is, Mason got sick," Jean said. "Really bad. He passed away before the war. He got real sick. A lot of the people from that city who ended up above ground suffered the same thing. We were all lucky these two weren't victims of that."

"Lots of people they talked about are dead now," Emi said. "They were dead even long before I was born."

"Everyone lost a lot. Those two were no exception. But they'd do it over and over again, for you."

She had a realization, then. Never would she know the true extent of how her parents suffered, for her sake and even long before she was born. True to what she'd said, lots of folks she'd been told about by her parents were dead before she was old enough to remember and even far before that - including their own parents and so many of their beloved comrades and friends.

She didn't even remember anything from the war. She'd been young during the war, about four or nearly there, anyway. Not that she could remember a damn thing about that island anyway or her time spent on it, but...

Just what horrors had they seen in the face of the world burning? Just what had they risked to save the world? What did they have to give up to try to bring peace back to the world, only for it to repay them by once again preparing its armies to stand against their homeland, forcing them to flee? What brought them those terrible injuries, those scars both physical and mental?

Whatever the cost, was all of that really worth this? Worth the life of their daughter? Was the pain worth uneasy peace, one they weren't sure would even last?

She supposed it had been. Her parents had been a lot of things, but never had they been liars.

"I'm happy they get to rest, finally," Emi murmured.

"Me too." Then Jean smiled. "And they're together again. They must be happy."

Emi smiled, too. "Dad's probably yelling at her, telling her she took too long to get there."

Jean chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right. I wouldn't put it past him."

"I can see it now," she said. "Arms crossed, his usual grumpy face..."

"I know that look well," Jean said with a grimace, but it gave way once Emiko laughed lightly and he smiled. "And your mother? What would she do?"

"That's easy," she replied. "She'd smile at him and say something smart."

Emi crossed the room and made to sit down on the couch when she remembered to check her pockets. She had the worst habit of forgetting to check them before sitting. The number of things she'd crushed accidentally...

All that remained in her pocket was... the love letter. She pulled it from her pocket, examining it once more as she lowered herself to sit. Jean, looking on, nodded his head towards her. "What's that?"

"The first love letter dad wrote for mom, apparently," she said, unfolding it. A wicked sort of smile overtook her features then and she waved him over. "Wanna read it?"

"'Course I do," Jean replied, already joining her on the couch. "This ought to be good."

—

Amaya,

Here's that love letter you always badgered me for.

All the ones you wrote me, and you'd have thought I'd know what I was doing, right? Well, I don't. I don't write often anyway, not if it's aside from paperwork. I already have enough of that shit to do, why would I give myself more work to do? But given the circumstances, I find that all I want to do is write. And to you, and you alone. No one else. If I find out that you read this and then showed it to other people, I'll kick your ass.

The reason I'm writing this is because by the time you get it, if you ever do, I'm either dead or on my way there. I'm not sure how much time has passed since it happened, but that bastard Zeke blew me up. I kicked his ass, but when I tied him up, the fucker was suicidal and tried to take the both of us out at the same time.

...Enough about him.

I don't know where you are, but I hope that you and Emi are safe. I know that Emi is probably with Reyes, but I don't anticipate that you'd have stayed put all this time at home. No way in hell. I'm sure you will probably sneak back into the fighting, if you haven't already, but I can't help but worry.

And before you think it, yes, I've fucking gone soft. Now shut up.

If I know you, which I do, then I'd have to guess that you were stubborn and chose not to read this until you're old and gray, because unless you see me die, you'd never believe it. Right?

But as it is, right now, I'm hardly able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. That fucking monkey got me good, but I'm going to get him back for it. I'll kill him. After what he did to me, he doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death, but I hardly have the patience left to make it painful. I just want him dead, and I just want to be home with my two girls.

I'm sure you noticed already, but if my handwriting looks worse than usual, it's because I lost some fingers and I'm having trouble holding my own goddamn hands steady. I hope it's legible at the very least. But you taught me how to write, so you of all people should be able to decipher what I wrote here.

Hange found me and brought me downstream before Floch and his dumbass little followers (what the hell are they called? Yeagerists?) could get to me. So I guess I have her to thank for me even being alive for now. It all still hurts like a bitch, though.

You know perfectly well that I never get sappy, but I miss you, so suck it up and deal with it. While I want you far away from danger, I want you to be here with me all the same. It's already been a month since I've seen you last but fuck me, it seems like a lot longer than that. I miss the lazy days at home, where all we had to worry about was Emi and the horses. I hate to admit that I took all of it for granted, but I did. And I miss the hell out of you both of you girls.

If by some chance you actually listened to me for once and did read this only once you're safe, then congratulations, you've managed to surprise me. But if I was right and you are reading this as an old lady, then I'm sure you're every bit as beautiful as you were when last I saw you.

In the best-case scenario, you'd never have to read this letter, because I'd return home to you safe and sound. But in the event that I don't, just know that you are the single greatest thing to happen to me. You made that disgusting city underground seem like a paradise, if only because I met you there. You saw me at my worst, and claim that you saw me at my best, whenever that was.

I could never thank you enough for entering my life, even if I was an asshole in the beginning. You were a brat from the very start, but I very quickly learned that I couldn't imagine a life without you in it. You showed me love even when I didn't deserve it, you helped me even when I pushed you away, and you married me despite me not really knowing what it would mean for us.

You're probably asking what I mean by that. Us being married put a target on your back, one I wish I could have enraged. I didn't mean for it to be that way, or for you to be used as a pawn. Taking my last name should have never brought for you the dangers it had.

Azumabito never told you, did she? In one of the few conversations I had with her, she suggested that we have more children to ensure that my blood got passed on, regardless of your own wishes and what that would do to your body (besides making you an easier target during the war). She wanted to steal you and Emi away, but only once you were pregnant again, all for my blood. Needless to say, I didn't have very many conversations with her after that.

Forget that, it's not the point.

You became my family and remained as such for years. You granted me your hand in marriage. You blessed me with a daughter. I know I didn't say it nearly often enough, but should I survive this war, I'll say it more: you mean the world and more to me.

I have nothing else to do right now but think, so I find myself thinking a lot now about how we met. It was by a random stroke of luck that I absolutely mowed your ass over while running away from the MPs, but I'm glad that I did. I'm also glad that it wasn't Farlan that knocked you over. Growing up as I did, I didn't ever believe in love. This is going to sound really fucking cheesy and you're going to laugh, but you changed that for me.

We were surrounded by death and suffering and sickness, but you managed to let me forget about it for a while and it was so easy to fall for you that I didn't realize it was happening at first. I didn't realize, not until I realized I would do anything for you - anything to keep you safe, anything to make you smile.

I didn't ever waste time dreaming about the future or thinking about things like that growing up but once I realized that I loved you, I also realized that I wanted to escape from that city. Joining the scouts was something of a shortcut, but it's embarrassing how much I thought about what it'd be like if we'd quit the military and lived as farmers or something simple and stupid like that.

I hate how much it was attributed to luck. But you'd say something dramatic like that it was fate that brought us together, wouldn't you? Of course you would. You always had a flair for the dramatics.

But more than anything else I've thought about how grateful I am to you. I know I'm not easy to love - far from it. But you seem to do it so easily and naturally that maybe we were meant to be. Whatever that means.

You, unlike so many people in my life, never left my side. You never walked away, never died, never left for any reason at any time though there were times I feared I would lose you. Through it all, you stayed by my side and even when at my worst, you always refused to leave me. I don't know if fate is real, but if it is, maybe it had a hand in ensuring you never strayed too far away from me.

This letter is getting disgustingly long now. I know you always loved to read, but I hate to write and I'm not going to bother rereading this. If it makes no sense, too bad. I just wrote what came to mind. There wasn't really a point to this anyway, just a place for me to say that I love you one more time in case I don't get the chance to.

If I happen to be with you during your last moments, know that everything I wrote above remains true, but I'll say it in person. It'll be more meaningful than if you just read it here, and then I'm still there, watching you read this and make it all useless and awkward.

Know that I could spend all of eternity looking, but I'd never find someone even half as perfect for me as you are. And I won't accept anything less than you. You have my word.

If I make it back home to you, but still die before you, know that my home became you. Fighting to return to you was something I would do, no matter the cost, a thousand times over. You're worth that much to me. You always had been, and so you shall remain. Even if I had to crawl back to you, I would. Nothing could stop me from ever fighting to be by your side.

If I die here or at any point during this damn war, know that I don't regret a thing. Meeting you was the single greatest thing that happened to me, because the rest of my life was able to start again. You kept me grounded, somehow found me attractive, dealt with my sense of humor (which I've been told is odd), and managed my admittedly usually sour mood.

I cannot ever thank you enough for that or repay any of what you did for me. I just hope that you know just how happy you made me. And I hope that I was able to make you feel even a fraction of how loved I felt when you even so much as looked at me. I know I'm not sappy, and I know you're either crying your eyes out or laughing yourself sick by now, and iIt could very well be both, but that's fine.

Whether you found this so terribly sappy that you're laughing, or if you're crying because of it, it doesn't matter because I'll account for both: Stop laughing, you'll just piss yourself. Dry your tears. I always hated to see you cry.

My Amaya, my heart is yours; never forget that.

My beautiful Amaya, and our gentle Emiko (who I'm sure will grow up to be just like her mother); my perfect girls. My life always belonged to you. I offer it up for a chance to keep you safe. And I could never regret that.

Keep the house clean.

I love you both.

-Levi Ackerman

P.S. If we all die, and someone else finds this letter, burn it, and forget you read it. That's an order.

P.P.S. Why the hell would you even read a love letter not meant for you? Nosy bastard.

—

When next I awoke, my body regained its senses long before I gathered the energy to open my eyes. The first thing I noticed after gaining consciousness was that I was laying down somewhere where the air was cool against my skin and the surface beneath me was almost impossibly flat, like a floor. Only, there was a definite breeze, and the air was fresh and clean, and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin; I wasn't inside, that was for sure.

I put that thought aside as my ears – well, ear – picked up on sounds. Voices, the shifting of fabric, and all manner of other sounds. It was a bit hard to make out where it was coming from, so I instinctually made to turn my head this way and that, but I couldn't quite find the strength to do so, yet. There were hushed voices all around me, but I couldn't pinpoint who the voices belonged to. It all faded into a strange cacophony of sound that was honestly beginning to hurt my head as I tried to make sense of it all.

There was a sudden weight pressed to my right side, as if someone were sitting beside me as I laid there. Then, something poked into my forehead. Instinctually, my brows furrowed, and a low grumble escaped my lips without me really meaning to let it slip.

"Back up," I heard someone say gently, and the weight beside me shifted slightly so it wasn't digging into my torso, but it remained brushed against me, a constant gentle weight leaning into my side. "Leave her be."

The voice that spoke was eerily familiar to me, but for the life of me I just couldn't place where I'd heard it. But I knew it. That voice was so soothing, so warm, and so loving, even if the words weren't directed at me. But who in my life had been so unwaveringly and so wholly pure of heart?

"But I want to-"

"Just give her a moment. She's strong, it won't be much longer, now."

Well, at least someone had faith that I could find the strength to get up.

"Come on," a young, hopeful, gentle voice sounded. Was that a little boy? "Wake up, Maya."

...Maya? My nickname. Only a few select people ever called me that. It should have made it easier to narrow down a list and figure out who was speaking, but... Fuck, my head hurt so badly trying to think back.

But if I could just open my eyes, I could see who it was. I was certain if I could only see who it was, I would remember, because something about the voice tugged at the edge of my mind, a memory I longed to chase. To that end, I focused all my efforts into opening them, but they seemed reluctant to, as if I'd been asleep for a long, long time.

"Back up," the first voice called again as my eyes fluttered open, only to immediately close. God damn, did I look directly into the sun?

"Oh," the younger voice said, "it's too bright."

The weight shifted a tad. My eyes opened again, and I made sure to do so slowly. I gradually grew accustomed to the light, and with a blink or two, I was able to make out the shape of the arm of a child reaching over me, as it to shade me from the light.

That brought a smile to my face, and as soon as I did, everything came back to me in a sudden rush. Emotions, memories, faces, voices, all of it; I was suddenly aware of who I was and where I had gone, and yet too where I was now, even if the scenery was unfamiliar.

The Paths, where all those of Eldian blood returned to after death.

I gasped as I suddenly remembered my life, from start to finish. It was a sudden, uninterrupted rush, flashes of people and places and things, quick replays of memories and the feelings associated with them passing through my body like spirits, all leading to my eventual death. Peaceful and final, with my daughter there at my side as I was released from my mortal body.

I died. And yet... if I was here, then...

I lowered my eyes to the figure shading me. It was a small boy, with bright eyes of teal, and chocolate brown hair. His eyes were wide as he looked at me and lowered his arm, waiting for any kind of reaction from me.

"Caden," I gasped out, sitting up quickly. I was suddenly full of energy as I took him into my arms, pulling him into my lap.

"Maya!" He exclaimed. His arms wrapped around my neck and he nuzzled into my embrace. "I-I-I missed y-you," he stammered.

"I know," I cooed, all my strength willing me to keep from crying. "Oh, god. I missed you so much, Cay. So much."

He pulled away slightly. "You got to see the sun. The real sun!"

"That's right," I beamed, fresh tears in my eyes blurring my vision. And yet, I could see him so clearly, grinning at me, his imperfect, crooked smile positively radiant to me. He was practically glowing, and he was as I had always seen him, or at least, dreamed of seeing him: happy and healthy, no longer struggling with hunger and skin paled with malnutrition. "And snow and rain and everything else, too."

He smiled. "We have the sun here, too. And it's never too warm or too cold. It never rains or anything, but that's okay."

I pulled him back into me, cradling his head with one hand. "I am so sorry, Cay. I promised you that we'd leave together, but-"

"Shh!" He hushed me quickly. "I made it here, see? And it's really pretty here. I hear there's more, like different landscapes and stuff, but dad never let me go see them. Not yet anyway."

He said dad, but I knew right away he wasn't talking about his biological father.

"El's here," I breathed out. Caden nodded happily. He looked back over his shoulder and pointed, and my eyes drifted over there, my breath catching in my throat at just the sight of him. "Oh, my god," I said. His brown eyes were as warm as ever, and an equally warm smile was on his lips.

Caden slid off my lap, stepping out of the way so I could run to El. "Go see him, Maya! He missed you a lot, just like I did!"

I laughed gently, then did as he wanted. I'd intended on keeping my pace slow and even, but I'd only taken two steps forward before my emotions got the better of me and I broke into a run. I was thankful he'd been ready and had been standing strong in anticipation of me all but throwing myself at him, leaping into his outstretched arms.

"Hey, kiddo," he said gently. I hid my face on his shoulder and he rested his cheek on my head. Tears brimmed in my eyes and I knew that even as I tried to keep my breathing steady, he could tell that I was crying, because he rubbed my back in the way that he always did when I had cried around him. "Easy, sweetheart," he said warmly.

"El," seemed to be the only word that could come out of my mouth. "El!" I was wailing like a baby, and the tears I'd fought so hard to keep in were flowing freely now. He chuckled but I could clearly hear the way he was trying to hold his own emotions back, too.

"I'm here," he said soothingly. "I'm here." If I was so inclined to look, I'm sure there were tears in his eyes, but I didn't want to look. I didn't need to; I already knew what I would see. "I'm so proud of you. So proud."

He pulled back slightly, and I lifted my head, looking into his eyes. Dammit, those eyes. I couldn't look away from those eyes - those warm, loving eyes that had for so many years watched as I grew from a small child into a young adult.

He'd been with me for such a large chunk of my life and yet it felt like it'd been an entire lifetime since I'd seen him. It was so hard to believe it'd been so long since I lost him... Comparatively, to those around me, I had El a lot longer than many others had their own parental figures. But even so I was not ready to lose him when I did, and looking at him now, I was certain that even if he lived a long, long life, I'd have never been ready to lose him. Not ever.

There was a playful challenge in his eyes as he spoke. "I can't believe you'd doubt how proud I was. I'm offended, really." The laugh escaped me before I could hold it back. One of his hands, leathery and warm, came up to wipe a tear from my cheek. "Chin up, Maya."

"I missed you," I said. "So more than you know."

"Mm," he hummed, thinking it over as his smile grew almost conspiratorially. "No, I think I have some idea."

"I can't believe you're here," I breathed out. "I have so many questions, I..."

"I had a million of my own when I got here," he replied. "But I think you - having experienced what you did - know more about this than me."

"Paths," I murmured. "Right?"

El shrugged. "That's what some people call it. More importantly, though... Do you remember the last time we spoke?"

"The last time...? Oh, yes. I do."

"Seems you found your way back home, Maya."

"I did," I answered surely.

"And you found yourself a new one. Far past Paradis."

"That's right," I confirmed.

"You lived a long, wonderful life," El said, his eyes glistening with tears once more. "I can hardly believe it. There in your new home, that's how I always wanted to see you. Safe and happy and loved, and in love... fulfilling your dreams and seeing the world. That's what I always wanted for you." I nodded, teary-eyed as well and I smiled, wide and true. "I only regret not doing more to get you there."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that, El. I'd have given up if not for you. I wouldn't be alive if not for you." I paused, taking in the look in his eyes, like he already knew what I was saying but couldn't quite make himself believe it. "I've got so much to tell you," I decided to continue.

"Good, because it's been a long while since I've heard a good story," he said. "And I want to hear it all. But that can come later - we have all the time we need here."

They were words he'd said before to me. Back when... yes, the last time we met. When I nearly died on the harbor, I subconsciously cried out for my father and he came or more accurately, I went to him. I sought him out and by the grace of the goddesses or by sheer luck, I found him.

Well, I think it was better to say we found each other.

This time, when he spoke those cryptic words, I knew they were true. It wasn't just that I trusted him, which I did, that led me to believe him as I had before. Now I knew, because I was... I was...

"El," I said quietly, "when you thought of what you wanted for your daughter..."

"Scars and all, pain and all, faults and all," he said softly, "I always saw you, as you are. I always wanted more for you, but I was never anything less than completely proud of you. I think even when Ellie and I thought of our future daughter, she might've been exactly like you." I smiled, and a tear slipped down my cheek. "I know you like to think that people were right, that you always had too big a heart to be a criminal, a soldier. But look at what it helped you do. Just think about everything you've done, kiddo."

"Is this home now?"

"It is," he replied, and I had a feeling he knew how long I'd waited for this - to ask him questions and for him to actually answer. He knew how I had longed for it. I'd always looked to him for guidance, so to have that ripped from me was hard, and it followed me through my entire life.

"I want to tell you everything," I told him.

"You can tell me everything that happened once you see everyone," he assured me. "There are lots of people that want to see you."

"Who...?"

"Everyone who you've ever known," he answered.

"Wait... you don't mean..."

"I do mean," he said with a chuckle. "As I understand it, this is where we - whatever we are, Eldians I suppose - come after death. As I said, you probably understand it better than I do. But everyone you've ever known is here, and even those you don't."

It was a prompt for me to think further, and so I did. Everyone I knew, and even those I don't.

Oh.

My parents. Everyone I'd ever heard of but never got the chance to meet - Levi's mother, for example.

Oh, goodness.

Caden tugged on my shirt then, and when I looked down at him, I realized I was in a pretty blue skirt and the white button down I usually wore with it. I also realized that there were bandages lining my leg. The injury was there underneath, but... no pain, even as I stood normally.

And reaching up, my ear was still gone, my hair down and loose about my head, but once again... there was no pain. It was as though I was younger again, not a child or a teenager, but I was as I had been when... when I first reunited with Levi after the war.

I redirected my gaze to Caden, who wordlessly sent me a look that told me that he wanted to be included in this conversation.

"My parents are here," Caden said. "Sadie too."

"Are they?" I asked. "I'd love to meet them."

"Later," he pressed, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Your parents are here, too!"

"My..." I trailed off, because I really hadn't expected to be right about that. I really didn't know how to feel about it. Growing up as a kid, whenever I was confused and in need of guidance, I'd look to El.

The same went for this situation, and he nodded at me encouragingly. "I met them. They thanked me for raising you."

My heart started to melt at that, but it turned to ice because I was still nervous at the prospect of meeting them. I was... a criminal and a soldier. I'd done things I wasn't proud of. There was no way that this was what they'd wanted for their daughter, was it? And they hadn't been part of my life at all.

My father figure was always El. There came a point in my life when I stopped thinking about my parents, because though they'd given me life, all I had of them beyond that was my blood. Nothing else connected us. I didn't even know my name that I'd inherited from them until Levi had gone and found the documentation of their deaths.

"Don't be nervous," he laughed. "They're as proud of you as we all are. And they've been waiting the longest to meet you again."

"Yeah," I breathed out, "I guess so."

"Come on," he said gently, stepping away from me and holding a hand towards me.

Caden went ahead and grabbed one of my hands, looking up at me with a bright smile. I took El's hand as well, letting him lead us through wherever we were. And for the first time, I took in the beautiful scenery of the area. It really was pretty. I supposed that if I had to be stuck here for eternity, well, there were worse places. At least this place had a view.

We didn't need to walk far, because there, only a few feet away, stood a small group of people. An old lady and two adults. My grandmother and... my parents.

It'd been decades since I'd seen my grandmother. I didn't even know when she actually died. When alive, I could barely find the time to reminisce, and therefore a long time ago I'd forgotten what she'd looked like. Alongside that, I'd been so young, I only had a few memories with her, anyway. And yet I knew that this was her, and she looked so happy to see me.

Similarly, I hadn't been old enough to remember my parents at all when they were with me. But I could see in their eyes, their faces, that that's who they were. I had my father's eyes, my mother's nose. When she smiled, I realized I had taken my mother's smile. I'd inherited my father's hair, and his skin too.

When we were standing only a few feet in front of them, El and Caden let go of my hands. El patted my back reassuringly, and Caden nudged me forward. "Go on," El said quietly. But I couldn't quite move yet. I stood there, in a way mesmerized, by who was in front of me. I'd gone my entire life without speaking a word to them. But here they were.

"Amaya," my grandmother said, breaking the silence. "My, how you've grown."

"Grandma," I said, the word foreign on my lips. I smiled as a rush of memories came to my brain then. Family stories, watching her cook, and so much more. I walked towards her, stepping into her waiting arms for a hug.

This hug was warm, comforting, and oddly familiar, though I couldn't remember ever feeling it before. She chuckled against me, patting my back in a way I felt like I always knew she would. "Taller than me, now. I don't remember allowing that." She gave me a close-eyed smile when she pulled away from me. "You were only up to my hips last I checked."

"I grew up," I said weakly. "I didn't really grow that tall, you know."

"Taller than me, anyway," she chided. "Now, then." She pulled away. "Catching up can come later, I'm sure you want to meet with everyone."

She stepped back, opening the way for my parents to enter the space she'd just left. "Hello," I said to them rather awkwardly. "I... I'm Amaya. And you're..."

"Leon," my father said, but suddenly blanched. "I mean... dad. I'm your father."

That made me laugh, the sound getting a smile from both of my parents. "Ophelia," my mother said, bowing her head slightly. "Please, call me mom."

"Of course," I said, bowing slightly to them in turn. "I've... I've got a lot to tell you."

"So do we," my mother said. "And a lot of apologies, too."

"I've heard it said that you have a husband," my father said. "And you've blessed us with a granddaughter, so we hear."

At the mention of my family my heart fluttered. "That's right," I confirmed. "My husband Levi and our daughter Emiko." I went quiet then. I looked at all of them at turn, then glanced back at El and Caden. "Levi... Is he...?"

"He's here," mom said. She winked at me. "We didn't want to meet him until you were here, though. But we have seen him. He's quite handsome, I'm proud of you. But before you go see everyone else, just know that we are both so sorry that we couldn't be there with you." My father took my mother's hand, a silent way of comforting her. "We didn't want to abandon you. We wanted to bring you to the surface one day, but a job went wrong. Very wrong."

"We were a bit overambitious," my father said, a smile growing on his face. "That might be where you get it from. But... it seems like things worked out better for you. We may not have had a lot to do with how you grew up, but we are damn proud that we get the privilege of saying that we made you."

I didn't really have a way to respond to that. So instead, I bowed to them again, smiling all the way. They trailed after me from a short distance as I took a few steps away, towards the next closest duo. They were faces that I'd known only briefly but recognized them all the same.

"Squad Leader Flagon," I said in slight surprise. I saluted to him, but he shook his head and pressed one to his own chest.

"You grew into a fine soldier, Ikeda," he said.

"Ackerman, you mean," Sairam, at his side, said, getting a smile from my very first commanding officer and squad-mate.

"You set the tone," I said to them both. "I'm sorry we weren't all model soldiers."

"You made up for it with all that you did for humanity," he countered. He gestured for me to move on with a movement of his head. "Go on, then. I know we're not your highest priority."

Quiet words of parting left my lips before I moved on, and immediately after turning I came face to face with-

"Moses!"

"Hey, there," he said, pulling me in for a hug before I could make a move to do so, myself.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," I began, only for him to shake his head and back away.

"Don't start with that nonsense," he said. "It was my fault I got caught. You did what you could to save me, but it just didn't work out. It was my time to go."

"No," I argued. "Not if I had-"

"You did all that you could in the moment," he countered easily. "I never blamed you."

"But-"

"But nothing," he said, laughing now. "Come on, are you going to apologize to everyone you see? Our deaths were not your fault."

"Say it all you want," said Gelgar, "but you'll never get through to her."

"Oh- Gelgar, hi!"

I met Gelgar, then Nanaba, then Jeremy and others, many others. Many of them hung back, and though I knew them by name they remained that respectful distance away, letting me greet them if I wanted but for many of them, far too many, their faces and names were just those I had met in passing, or knew very shortly before they died in the line of duty.

Some stayed away because I didn't know them well, others stayed back to let me approach if they so chose, and others stayed back because they thought I wouldn't want to see them. And among them... Masami, Oscar, and Yona.

I did not go to them. Not now. Instead, I ran to Reyes, chatting with him for a moment before El came along and it was El who had to drag Reyes away when he got a little too emotional about seeing me again.

I saw Floch, and started to go to him; but then I saw Nile, and started to go to him, instead; but then I saw Pixis, and ran to him. I hugged him close, and he mumbled something against me, something soft and kind, and I responded in kind, telling him that I missed him.

After that, I heard the next person before I saw him, and it was the gentle strumming of a guitar that tipped me off. I pulled away from Pixis, unable to help myself.

"Mason!" He was standing only a few feet away and walked closer as soon as our eyes met. His guitar fell to the side and he began to run. I met his pace and threw myself into his hug. He was laughing almost giddily, and I couldn't help the excitement that bubbled up in my chest, too.

"Took you a while to join us," he commented.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked teasingly. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"No, no," he laughed, "don't. I'm happy you got to live a long life."

"I wished you'd have lived longer," I said quietly, pulling away to see him. He looked so healthy now. The last time I had seen him had been when he was sick and dying, skin paled and pulled tight around his features, eyes dull and dry as the light left him. But now... he was glowing, the smile permanently etched onto his lips and reaching his eyes easily.

"I'd have died sooner if not for you," he said, shaking his head. "The extra time I had was stolen for me by you."

"Well," I shrugged, "once a thief, always a thief, I suppose."

"Did you learn those songs I left behind?" He asked excitedly.

"I did," I answered. "But never to learn guitar, so I'm not sure how it sounds with it."

"We can fix that," he said with a wide smile. From over his shoulder I saw another group, larger than the others, and all of them were in full uniform. My Scouts. Mason noticed that my attention had shifted and urged me towards them with a gentle push. "Go on. We've got all of eternity to catch up."

My heart was ramming itself against my chest when my brain caught up with my eyes and I was able to register who they all were. The closest waiting soldier was Petra, waiting for me with a slight bounce in her feet. She bit her lip, glancing at the taller soldiers just behind her, as if for permission to act. She was nudged gently forward by Gunther as I was nudged by Mason, and I made up my mind first, jogging towards her.

As soon as we were within reach, we caught each other in a hug and the others soon joined in. Gunther, Olou, and Eld looked positively radiant as they enveloped the two of us in their bigger frames. "Captain," Petra said happily. At my pointed look as I drew away slightly, she grinned even bigger. "Sorry, I mean Amaya!"

"There it is," I laughed, diving back into the hug again. "I'm so sorry we weren't there for you," I said to them. "We should've been there."

"No," Petra protested. "Don't blame yourself."

"We were just following orders," Gunther said.

"Shitty orders," I said, pulling away again to stand in front of them all.

"There was no way for you to know what was to happen," Olou said. "Well, maybe if you had my genius instinct and foresight-"

"Oh, can it," Petra muttered, slapping his arm.

"We were doing what we thought was best for humanity," Eld spoke. When our eyes met, I nearly began to bawl my eyes out again. "If we didn't believe in your orders, we would've run away." He smiled at me. "But we believed in both our captains."

The others stepped slightly away, offering Eld and me the space to get to each other. I pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing my eyes shut. His arms came around me and a tear slipped down my cheek despite my efforts to keep myself calm.

Eld chuckled. "In all our time knowing each other, I can only remember you crying once," he said. "But as soon as you see me, you start crying. Ouch."

"Shut up," I hiccupped. "These are tears of joy, asshole."

"Right, yeah," he said, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You're such an ass," I muttered. "You were supposed to walk me down the aisle when I got married, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," he replied dryly. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"You'd better," I said, a smirk creeping onto my lips while I drew away.

"Uh oh," Eld said. "The Commander's watching. Better go see him."

I pulled away only enough to turn my head to see what he did. My eyes widened when my eyes were met with the cool blues of Erwin's eyes. Without another word I stepped away from Eld and met Erwin halfway for a hug.

"What did I tell you?" I asked, barely able to contain myself any longer. There was just something about waking up suddenly in this picturesque landscape surrounded by all those that I loved who had died. It just released a dam of emotions that, with no way to be held back, rushed out seemingly endlessly and I was just swept along for the ride.

"You told me to be careful," Erwin recited easily.

"Yeah," I huffed. "And I heard you led a suicide charge. What about that was being careful?"

"I had to, Amaya," he replied, rubbing my back with his arm, brushing over the smooth fabric on my back.

"I know, I know," I gave in. "You're a god damn hero, Erwin."

"No," he said. "Not a hero. A Devil, more like."

"We were all Devils on that island," I said, tilting my head back to look up at him. "But you were right. I don't know how you knew but you did and..."

"It was only a hunch of mine," he chuckled.

"And your hunches were always right," I smiled. "There was so much beyond the walls, Erwin. It'd have taken you years to finish seeing it all."

"I don't doubt that," he replied. "But you saw it, didn't you? The outside world. You can tell me all about it."

I nodded. "I'll tell you anything you like."

"I should let you go, before-"

"Amaya!" The sudden cry of my name, and hurried shout of concern clued me into who was charging at me. With a jubilant laugh, I stepped away from Erwin just in time to be knocked over by an incredibly excited Hange.

We fell to the ground in a heap, laughing all the while. Erwin looked down at us with a smile, and Moblit – who had been, par for his behavior, chasing after Hange to try to keep her out of trouble – slowed to a stop beside him.

"Hange," Moblit chided, "she just got here, be careful!"

"Oh, please," she said. "Like we can get hurt here."

That one line seemed to bring everything back to reality. I met Hange's eyes, the smile fading from my lips. "So... I am dead, then?"

"Er... yeah," Hange said. "Sorry to kill the mood."

"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "You didn't. It's just weird to think about. But if being dead means that I can see all of you, then I think I'm okay."

She grinned. "We watched as you got to see your little brother. He's so cute, shading you like that."

"I told you that he was a sweetheart," I said. When I turned my head, I could see my family and everyone I'd met so far waiting. I was met mostly with warm smiles but Caden waved happily at me. But I couldn't wave back because I was suddenly under the weight of another person and all it took was the sound of her laughter to clue me into who had just tackled me down.

"Sasha!"

"Amaya!"

Sasha slid off me but remained knelt beside me, her arms around me in a tight hug. As best as I could while still partly under Hange's weight, I hugged her back. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Sasha said to me. "I don't even really blame that girl. We were at war, you know?"

"I know," I said, "but we were still supposed to protect you. But we didn't."

"I just told you that it's not your fault," Sasha laughed. "I've already come to terms with it. Don't go making me feel sad again."

"Alright, alright," I conceded. "Goodness, it's so good to see you again."

"I know," she said, her grin dazzling in the light. She backed away a bit then, just as a hand was outstretched towards me, and I looked up into Erwin's gently smiling face.

I took his hand, letting him help me to stand while Moblit helped Hange up. Mike walked up then, greeting me politely. I apologized to him, expressing how sorry I was that he had to die alone. I couldn't imagine many things worse than that.

He told me that it wasn't my fault, but he appreciated the sentiment. He lamented, as professional as ever, that he regretted not being able to work with me and all the Scouts more. When he hugged me, as he always did, he sniffed me. With just that, he smiled, and told me that I smelled as though I was at peace.

And I supposed that I was.

I turned from the group of scouts only to come face to face with a trio that I hadn't seen together for a long, long time. Isabel, with her usual childlike optimism etched in her eyes; Farlan, his trademark warm smile stretched on his lips; and Levi.

My Levi.

As soon as our eyes met, I was pulled into another hug and my attention was drawn away from him. I hadn't noticed Isabel run to me, but she did, and I accepted her hug readily. "Isa," I said. "Oh, I missed you!"

"Missed you too, sis," Isabel beamed. "Do you know how boring it was here without you? I had to deal with Farlan alone for years!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah? Must've been awful."

"I'll pretend not to be offended," the familiar voice of Farlan piped up. He stood just behind Isabel, waiting patiently as Isabel leaned more into me, giggling against me. She began rocking us back and forth, squeezing me tightly.

"I'm sorry I was too slow that day," I said to Isabel.

"You've been trying to apologize to everyone, haven't you? Have you learned nothing? No one blames you for anything, sis!"

"Oh, wait, I was just..." I trailed off sheepishly as she pulled away, laughing her head off. "Sorry?"

"You're not," Farlan interjected, replacing Isabel, and pulling me in for a hug. I accepted it eagerly, pressing my cheek to his chest with a wide smile. "But she's right. No one blames you for anything."

"No? Not even for not letting you be a martyr?"

"Well, I had a long time to forgive you for that," he admitted with a laugh.

"I knew it," I said, laughing now as well. As he always had been able to do, he lifted my spirits so easily and if I had the chance, I would have remarked how easily we fell back into that dynamic, but I didn't.

"I'll tell you once, so you better listen: my death was not your fault. Besides, it was nice this way. I got to live vicariously through you without having to lift a finger."

I laughed lightly, shaking my head incredulously. "You're such a pest."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I had a feeling you'd call me that. I won't hold you up, though. The other one who tends to call me that is waiting for you."

"Hold me up?" I repeated. "I haven't seen you in years and you're already sick of me?"

"Course not," he said. "But there's someone a bit more impatient than me who would like to see you."

I already knew who he was alluding to, because there was only one person who that could possibly be. With a grateful smile to Farlan, he nodded and stepped away. And finally, finally, I found myself facing Levi - my partner in life and love, my best friend and most trusted confidant... and my love. The love of my life.

"Hi, Maya," he said quietly.

"Hello, Levi," I replied, my voice just as soft as his own. I took the final few steps between us and cupped his cheek delicately in my palm. He leaned into my touch, keeping his eyes on me; one of beautiful blue, the other of milky white, forever blind even now.

Levi smiled at me, a true smile, and I found myself unable to hold my emotions back. I stepped closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He almost eagerly kissed me back, a quiet, content noise escaping his lips only to be caught by my own. I drew away first, though his arms around me kept me close. Not that I was planning on going that far, anyway.

"I missed you," he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

"I missed you too," I replied.

"I-"

"She's beautiful, Levi," came a feminine voice from only a few feet away. It was completely unfamiliar to me, and I turned my head much to Levi's chagrin to see who it was. "Just like you said."

The woman standing only a few feet away was gorgeous. Dark hair, pale skin, beautiful blue eyes. "Mother," Levi greeted, though not without annoyance in his voice.

His... mother. Kuchel Ackerman.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Kuchel said, the smile on her face telling me that she picked up on the annoyance in her son's voice and was running with it. "But I've waited so long to meet you."

"I'm Amaya," I said, stepping away from Levi to accept her hand. "It's so great to finally meet you."

"Same to you," Kuchel replied. "Levi told me you were beautiful, but I had no idea how gorgeous you'd truly be."

"Thank you," I said warmly, bowing my head slightly to her. "You're prettier than I imagined, too. Our daughter Emiko is the spitting image of you. I'm so incredibly happy about that."

Kuchel smiled. "My, aren't you sweet." Then she turned. "Kenny! Come meet your niece-in-law!"

"We've already met," Kenny grumbled, now at his sister's side. Levi came up beside me then, placing his hand at the small of my back. Some part of the back of my mind registered that he was walking – that he was no longer confined to his chair. "Kind of."

El was suddenly at my other side, a wide smile on his face. "Hello, I'm her dad. Her real parents are over there, but I raised her. Let's talk, shall we!"

"And I'm her brother," Caden piped up, puffing his chest out. I laughed lightly, and Levi took the opportunity El presented to us to steal me away. His hand slipped into mine and he led me away from the group and to a spot where we could have at least a little bit more privacy.

"Levi," I said through my laughs, following him. "If you want to be alone with me, just say so!"

With another tug, I stumbled forward, and I found myself in Levi's arms, his hold on me warm and secure - just as it always had been, and so it seemed it always would be. He didn't say a word as our eyes met.

Oh, those eyes.

I loved those eyes of his... And I had all of forever to look into them now.

"Come here, brat," he said, leaning in.

"Gladly," I whispered, letting our lips meet. My heart fluttered a bit, and with one hand pressed to his chest, I could tell that his own was doing the same. "I love you," I murmured between kisses.

Levi's lips quirked into a smirk against me, but his words were genuine: "I love you, Maya. I'm not letting you go ever again."

I couldn't help but let my smile grow. "I like the sound of that."

"Now stop talking and kiss me again," he muttered grumpily. "You damn woman."