ELEVEN

Love is poison.

"If you could go back in time and change something about your life, would you do it?"

Eren writhed often in his sleep. Ever since discovering he was a Titan, he had been getting visions. Sometimes of death, mostly of you. It was nothing new for traumatic stress to hinder the Survey Corps, but somehow, this was different from the others.

So when you came into his room one night after he woke up screaming from the nightmares, he was deeply humbled by your forbidding candor. It came as no surprise whenever you did. Ever since childhood, you had always been the type to ask him how he was. Seeing you shuffle at the edge of his bed reminded you of one particular memory from Shiganshina, when you and Mikasa were having a girls' sleepover, and you came to see him because you didn't want to leave him upset.

Even as cadets, and throughout your first few months in the Survey Corps, you always knew what Eren wanted. You told him things like you could read his mind and predict everything. Eren, don't drink the alcohol from Pyxis, you're going to vomit it later. Eren, you didn't clean the top floor properly, Levi will chew you out. Eren, don't go out today, it's going to rain and you'll come back all drenched like a cat.

He knew that you had asked him that question because he needed a distraction. He had lived in his head more than his body. He needed someone to ground him. There were many things he could want to change. Many people he would have wanted to bring back. You often reassured him that he was on the right track making the right decisions, but even you sounded like you were in doubt. Not of him, but in yourself.

No one knew how you could predict and measure things so well but seem constantly frazzled, always thinking too much about every little thing you did. Eren realized that it was really you who had to be reassured.

Instead, he said, "Everything in my life led to you being here for me right now. So probably not."

Your eyes softened. Eren nearly loathed it. You had such a tender gaze whenever you looked at him that it was excruciating for him to not stutter.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I don't know," you replied, and you sounded honest.

"Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know," you repeated.

Now, you sounded like you were hiding something from him.

You shuffled into the bed beside Eren. It reminded him of being a kid again, back when you would create pillow forts at night, and pretend to see the ocean. It felt as though he had done this before with you hundreds of times. None of it phased you, clearly used to it. The two of you spoke in whispers and stared at the ceiling, merely feeling each other's presence.

The sun rose. Neither of you fell asleep. Everyone at breakfast let Eren pretend he hadn't been seized with night terrors hours ago. No one scolded or made fun of you for going into his room. It was cute, how much you cared for him.

They were considerably kinder, but you were always the one who was actively looking out for him other than Armin and Mikasa. At one point, everyone had begun to view Eren as the vessel of a Titan and great powers that he had to nurture. While that was true, it was heavy.

Eren didn't know how, but you could clearly see right through him. It was almost healing, in a way. Even though he knew he didn't want to hurt you with the things he had in mind, with the massacre of humanity. To know that you could look at him and see how pathetically imperfect he was, and still hold some semblance of care for him was a relief. Maybe it was worse. He'd rather you hate him and never hurt.

But selfishly, secretly, it was not that.

He didn't know what to call it for what it was, this thing shimmering between you, but maybe it was better he didn't. It felt blissful and fragile and fun, your unspoken game of cat and mouse. Waiting to see what the other would do first. Eren had always been the weaker one; you always seemed to know what he was going to do next.

At least for a moment, he had rehearsed the truth, gotten it out into the open. He had in fact enjoyed speaking it, and if you happened to pass by at the very moment he was muttering things he wouldn't have dared to speak, he wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have minded.

He wanted to see what you thought first.

It would be awful if he ruined your friendship by saying something as stupid as a love confession.

It was hard, because you were always paired together when it came to your duties. Today, you were assigned to be the squad's backup while Hange killed the remaining Titans in Wall Maria now that Shiganshina had been reclaimed. The Battle of Shiganshina ended months ago. Now, all that was left was to dispose of the Titans on Paradis Island.

Wall Rose loomed over Trost District as the wooden lift pulled you up. In the distance, you and Eren could see the rest of your squadmates with Hange as they released the guillotine on approaching Titans' heads.

He held out a hand for you to help you step off the wooden lift, and onto the concrete of the wall. Your boots clacked against the stone, heavy-worn. He stared at your shoelaces, at the wall. He should buy you new shoes. Yours were getting worn after all the work you had to do. You'd be embarrassed, but he wanted to do something for you. There was always some strange crushing weight of guilt looming on his shoulders that wasn't because of the Rumbling.

He felt like he was the bane of all your suffering. His memories made sure of that.

Did you know how many more Titans were actually inside the wall? Did you know what he was going to do with the monsters he would unleash from the wall? That one day, you would live in a world where you could wake up in Trost or Shiganshina or anywhere, and look out the window to see an endless horizon instead of these giant blocks of stone? That to do that, he'd slaughter everything?

Yes, his conscience whispered. Yes, she knows everything.

And she still cares for you anyway.

The hours passed by like drudgery; slow, moping flows.

When he glanced at the sky, the sun would still be at the same point. Then when he'd glance again, it would be at a different point, but just as sweltering.

The days were long but the years were short. Such was the punishment of growing up.

You and Eren stationed yourselves by the top of the Wall because you were assigned to snipe any Titans that weren't within Hange's reach. If it became bad, Eren would be in Titan form. The Scouts did Garrison work for now because the Survey Corps were so few after the Wall Maria reclaim that there was no time for outside expeditions while recovery occurred.

No Titans were approaching. Eren wondered if you would be happier once you lived in a world where you could finally go out without worrying about getting eaten. While it was hard for him to be excited about these things anymore, a smile pulled on his face when he thought about the wonder and joy you would feel upon exploring beyond the walls—in the real outside world—for the first time.

You dangled your legs over the ledge, yawning. You used to be deathly afraid of heights, but now you weren't afraid of falling. No—maybe you had faith that Eren would rescue you. If you fell, he'd move. Just as if you fell for him, he'd move.

The physics of love. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Every choice has a consequence. If you threw a fancy plate into the air, it wasn't your place to weep if it shattered, because you were the one who risked it in the first place. If you fell, Eren would catch you in his arms.

"See any Titans, 'Ren?" you asked.

"Are you blind? 'Course not."

"Rude," you said. "It's a boring day, we might as well talk."

"We talk all the time."

"Okay, you want me to shut up?" you asked.

You spoke to him in a drawling tone, clearly not taking his moods seriously. The others were frustrated easily by the stark change in Eren's demeanor after the Battle of Shiganshina; you handled it with ease. To be honest, Eren found it comforting. Levi once called him a brat, yapping for attention, and perhaps he was right even though it was conflicting.

Eren wanted someone to understand and see past him, but he didn't want to hand over his pain in the palm of someone's hand. Especially not when he had feelings for the person.

But still, Eren couldn't stand it when you didn't talk to him.

"Sorry," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I was short on sleep. I'm not mad at you or anything, I just keep getting these nightmares about you."

You released a chuckle. It was humorless. "Is this your way of telling me I look like a monster?"

"No!" The word came out fumbling. He sounded like his old self again from last year. "Of course not—I mean you're—you don't look anything like a monster."

That came out so wrong. His ears burned. His mind began to hiss insults at him. Did he hurt your feelings? Did you think he thought you weren't at all pretty? Would you never talk to him again?

He had visions wherein you were both fighting each other, throwing verbal insults. There had even been an instance wherein he slapped you so hard it left a mark, and it haunted him. He would never do such a thing, much less lay a hand on you.

"Wait," he said, "that's not what I—"

"I know, Eren," you said. "Calm down. You've been so agitated lately."

He groaned inwardly. He was embarrassing himself. What was wrong with him? You always made him so flustered without even trying. He looked like a fool. At least you didn't treat him like he was crazy for having 'visions'.

"What's wrong, Eren?" you asked. "Tell me."

You had a hypnotizing way of giving commands like you expected Eren to follow. Tell me. Show me. Kiss me. You could say anything and he'd do it for you, like a loyal dog.

"Is it your nightmares?"

He felt like a little kid, but he nodded.

"What about them?"

"I keep seeing you die in different ways," he said quietly. "I keep seeing us... suffering. And when you asked me the question about changing my life earlier, it felt like you pulled it right out of my nightmare."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and said nothing. You didn't tell him they were not real, or that you were safe now. That was what worried him the most.

"We could have become doctors," he said, finally addressing your earlier question. "Like my dad. I thought about it."

"Doctors heal people, we can't," you said. "We could have been in the Military Police. We were in the Top Ten."

"Yeah," he said. "And I'd get stripped and dissected. Fun."

You rolled your eyes and hit him on the shoulder.

"We could have been in the Eastern 104th Cadet Corps instead of the Southern class," you said. "Classmates with your best friend in the whole Scouts."

"I imagine Floch was even worse than Jean as a cadet," he said. "You know what? I could have helped you plant that garden you used to take care of when we were kids. You were always hard at work in Shiganshina."

You nudged him playfully, voice teasing.

"In Shiganshina, people used to wed early. We could have gotten married."

Eren stopped. His eyes snapped up to meet you. The smile was falling off your face like you had no idea why you said the things you just said.

He understood. Sometimes, he did that too. He'd say something without really meaning to, and his mouth would move before he could think the words through. Like his body knew what to say next. Like he was predestined to say it. He had said it before, many times, and now it was his body's natural reaction.

But your eyes mongered an inkling of fear.

Eren didn't know why you always had that expression whenever you blurted out signals of loving him.

Not that he wanted to assume, of course. It would be arrogant and conceited for him to believe that you loved him so easily. How could you ever love him? You were smart and beautiful, and he was a maniac and an idiot. You'd hate him for his future sins. He was so sure.

But his memories of the future were confusing, showing him otherwise. They showed you loving him. They showed you with the War Hammer Titan. They showed you as the Founding Titan. It didn't make sense. It was all in his head.

"I mean, everyone married early back then," you said defensively. "Everyone married their neighbors. You were my neighbor, so that's why I—that's just—I was just—"

"I get it," he said. "I would have asked."

There. He hinted at a confession too. Eren was treading water, trying neither to drown nor to swim to safety, just staying in place, because it was the truth—he sensed something was down there somewhere. If only you knew that he was giving you every chance to put two and two together and come up with a number bigger than infinity.

I would have asked.

Tell me. Show me. Kiss me.

"That's... really nice of you to offer."

You said it so lamely, awkwardly—like you were uncomfortable. It stabbed Eren, your blatant indifference. Your indirect rejection.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I could have said yes."

Could have. You were trying to say no.

Eren wanted to laugh hollowly. Of-fucking-course. There's no way a perfectly nice girl like you could ever love a shitty guy like him. You saw him as Sasha saw Connie. As Mikasa saw Armin. He was such an idiot for thinking otherwise. You only suggested a hypothetical marriage because he was the typical boy next door.

Or did you feel otherwise?

He had conjured images of holding you, taking your face in his hands and planting his lips on yours, hearing you whisper his name in ecstasy. He felt like a creep and he genuinely had no idea why these thoughts popped into his mind, but they did. He imagined loving you so much it was a memory rather than a fantasy.

It was torture. It was a dream.

"Hey, you two," he heard a female voice call. "The Garrisons are on duty now, you Scouts can go get some lunch."

He turned to see a girl with pale blonde hair walking up. Her brown uniform jacket was decorated with the image of a red rose, indicating that she was from the Garrisons. She resembled Hitch and Annie, if Hitch were blonde and if Annie smiled more.

"Thank you, Glinda," you said, scrambling to your feet.

The girl mumbled although you weren't listening. "It's Grisell."

You grimaced at Eren, showing how embarrassed you were but hiding it from her. You have always been bad with names.

Eren found it strange and cute, how often you mixed up names. You called Marlowe, Marlon once. And your former classmates like Thomas, Tommy. Or Mina, Nami. Whenever you were corrected, you would seemingly shake yourself out of some daydream and grimace and say, "Oh, right—sorry." Like their names were insignificant syllables blurring together.

"Thanks, Grisell," he told her, almost apologetic for how quickly you stalked off. He remembered her face, at least—you had all been in the Southern 104th Cadet Corps, though she was from a separate section, so they had no classes together.

To his confusion, a blush rose on her cheeks as she nodded. Her eyes were wide, like couldn't believe that he was talking to her.

He followed you to the lift. You stayed on opposite ends, quiet as the lift descended you down the wall.

You were showing every sign of nervousness—your foot tapping, fingers pinching the tips of your hair. You swallowed it down in a poor attempt to hide it.

"That Grisell girl..." you were saying. "She's pretty."

"Uh..." Truth be told, Eren forgot about her face as soon as he left. "I guess."

"She's from the Garrisons," you said. "But she was originally meant for the MPs, right?"

Why did it sound like you were putting together clues, piecing information into a puzzle? That was another habit of yours — tracing things together like you could calculate events and people from loose news.

"Huh?"

"Never mind, it's just—" You looked to the ground. "I've kind of made a lot of big enemies in the Military Police. They kind of hate me."

The lift reached the bottom. Eren was incredulous as you stepped off, following you back to the regiment headquarters. "[Name], what did you do?"

"I sort of... tried to talk to their superiors... about our findings from the basement without telling the others. I told them not to accept foreign help if it ever came to it. They can't wrap their heads around the idea of foreigners being dangerous."

"You mean Zeke?" he asked. His brows furrowed, a future memory surfacing. "How are you sure that the Marleyans are coming to aid us at all?"

How did you see far into the future?

"I'm not," you rushed to say. "But I can feel it. Remember, Zeke said he'd come back to save you. He'll be back and he must hate Marley for turning his parents into Titans."

"Even if they did come, it wouldn't change a thing. The outside world must hate Eldians. That won't be prevented."

Your eyes cast down. "There's a lot of things it can prevent."

The most strange feeling crawled down Eren's spine. He had future memories of the foreign Marleyans helping him achieve the Rumbling. People who would let him raze the earth. It was as if you wanted the plan to fail because he couldn't do it alone. It was like you knew what he was going to do. Like you wanted to delay the Rumbling, or you wanted it to fail. It would prolong his life span.

He stared at you, trying to pick the truth.

You touched your cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," he said. His cheeks went warm. "Not all at."

Despite yourself, you wiped invisible dirt off your brow. "There. How do I look?"

"You look beautiful," he said easily without thinking. He backtracked, adding. "You are beautiful."

Eren was only telling you the truth, but you rubbed the back of your neck, almost bashful. He realized it sounded like he was flirting with you. Maybe he was. Maybe he liked seeing the semi-pleased look on your face, flustered in his admiration. Maybe he liked that. Reveled in it, even.

Lunch was a strange affair.

"[Name]," he heard the girl from earlier calling your name again. "The Military Police captain sends his regards. He told me to give this to you."

It was a metal carrier with full milk bottles, much like the fancy deliveries milkmen performed in Wall Sina. It was a scarce resource to eat and drink food from animals. The milk sloshed in the glass bottles as Grisell handed the carrier to you, careful not to spill. You were perplexed.

"Hey," Eren said sharply, "weren't you supposed to be patrolling the wall?"

Grisell looked at him, jumping like she hadn't realized he was there. "The Garrisons captain called me down. He saw me talking to [Name], so he sent me here. He said it was of utmost political importance."

"Apologies with milk," you scoffed. "Geez, what an insult. They must think the Survey Corps are dirt poor."

"Well, a gift is a gift," Grisell offered.

Without waiting for you to ask, Eren took the carrier from your hands and carried it for you as the two of you headed to the headquarters' kitchen. You held the door open for him as he entered with his arms full. The rusting hinges groaned even as you shut them gently.

Eren unloaded the bottles while you put away the carrier. Yes, the Military Police were truly arrogant, but no one could pass up free food. It wasn't so bad to feel this domesticated aura with Eren either. It was like when he would help you unload the groceries, carrying the heavy bags for you.

It was a simple, peaceful way to live. The two of you doing groceries, drifting in and out.

He used to think that the most important goal he could ever achieve was to explore the world. It was an important goal, but there had to be something to settle after those adventures.

Maybe if he asked, you would say yes.

Perhaps you would like to live with him someday.

In his warbled, strange memories of the future and memories that did not exist in this universe, he could see you talking about things like marriage and relationships.

But he was a fucking coward. He couldn't bring himself to ask, because he had the feeling you would only reject him just as you had deflected his previous hints. Like you couldn't bear the thought of getting hurt or hurting him. Eren couldn't figure it out or understand why neither of you would make the first move.

"I'm famished," you said, popping a bottle open.

Eren snorted. "We didn't do anything. There were no Titans."

"Duh," you said. "We killed them all last week."

"You must be excited," he said. "To finally be free of Wall Maria. We've never been outside."

"We'll see the ocean!" you said brightly. Like you were sure it existed. As you had swam and dove into it before, running down the sandy coast with Eren behind you. "I miss it..."

"Miss it?" he wondered. "You've never been there before."

You looked up from the bottle. "I mean... I miss the idea... of it. It won't be an idea anymore when it exists."

"Right," he echoed. Somehow, deep inside, he could see you actually being there too.

He could smell the milk's aroma. You examined the bottle to make sure it wasn't spoiled, and it was not. If anything, it smelled like sweet flowers and fruit. Whatever it was the rich folks in Mitras ate must have been placed inside to create a mouth-watering elixir.

Absent-mindedly, you drank.

You spat it out almost immediately. "Oh my God, I'm sorry. This tastes awful!"

"Did they slip alcohol or something?" asked Eren.

You blinked rapidly. Your face was starting to flush, like you were drunk.

"Sorry," you began to say, but Eren was shaking his head, reaching out his palm against the pulse on your throat to check your temperature. You were heating up. "No, really—I must be drunk."

Only then did Eren see the crushed flower petals at the bottom of the milk glass. His eyes widened. Why hadn't he noticed?

"Don't drink that!" 

He knocked the glass from your hand, spilling milk everywhere as it shattered on the floor, but you were already gagging. A wave of dizziness glossed your eyes, and you stumbled into his arms for support.

He quickly led you to the sink. He wrapped his arms around your torso as you tried to vomit it out, but the substance was already in your system. It was coursing through your veins, sapping away at your strength.

Eren knew of Belladonna, the deadly nightshade, but somehow this was worse. Whatever enemies you had made in Mitras must have added some kind of chemical drug into the milk.

Your arms trembled weakly. When you spoke, you already sounded like you'd been coughing for hours.

"They poisoned me," you said in shock, reeling. "Those sons of bitches, they poisoned me!"

Fear coursed through Eren. What the actual fuck? How could this happen so suddenly—who would ever want to hurt you? You had always been the good, unassuming soldier. Perhaps it was merely a part you played. You had been scheming behind everyone's backs. You had always known things others did not.

"Okay—don't panic," Eren said, when in truth he was the one panicking. "What—fuck—what's the antidote to nightshade?"

"Don't you get it?" you spat. "I'm going to die."

"Wha-what?"

"For Founder Ymir's sake!"

You stamped your foot on the ground, almost as if you were throwing a temper tantrum and threatening to pull your hair out.

"Damn it!" you screamed. "I get it, you want to go the ocean then massacre everything known to man! I know everything!"

Your pupils dilated. The veins on your neck became more prominent—a sure sign that the poison and the drugs had reached you. You were manic, on the verge of a meltdown.

"'If we kill all our enemies, will we finally'—no! It's not happening! You kill them, they're gonna kill us anyway! We're all going to fucking die, fuck!"

"Listen," Eren tried. "The drugs are just making you—"

"Crazy? Me? Crazy?" you asked. "What, am I seeing things now? Is it all a bad dream?"

You laughed shrilly, shaking your head, practically choking. In the split second, in this tiny horrifying moment that had wedged itself between every other moment, he realized with an awful start that this was a scene straight out of the many night terrors that seized him every slumber.

"Wait—no, it's not just a bad dream," you said. "This is a nightmare. Of all the ways I've died, and this time it had to be from poison overdose, fuck!"

"Of all the ways you... what?"

"It's me—I'm the problem," you gasped. "I'm sick of this repetitive hell. I have to end it."

Eren didn't have the time to react. To feel sadness, anger, grief, or anything. He could only be in shock.

You staggered in his arms, nails digging into your skin like you could claw the poisons out as they slowly shut down your internal organs. Finally, you crumpled as he caught you.

"I'll see you ten years ago," you said. You laughed, truly crazed now. "Or maybe never. Hopefully."

What the actual fuck had gotten into you?

You eyes rolled back as you collapsed at last. Before your head hit the ground, Eren felt something pull him back. Everything slowed down as time began to freeze.

Then, it reversed.

A rapid rewind of Eren's memories played in his head, the sounds warbling together in reverse order. He saw everything—he saw universes where the two of you fought, universes where the two of you kissed, universes that he thought never existed. He had always seen these, but he had never known they were real.

He saw the Paths realm, where you stood against the Coordinate as if you could solve for the exact numbers that would equate to whatever the hell it was you were trying to do. You were solving for X when the real issue was rooted in Y.

The eleventh loop faded.

-

Eren woke up under the tree, gasping. He was a ten-year-old child. In front of him, Mikasa crouched with a frown on her face. He swiveled his head side-to-side, looking for the third face he must have seen in a memory.

Mikasa shot him a confused look. "What's gotten into you?"

The wind rustled against his cheek. A few leaves fell into the wildflower clumps.

"Where's [Name]...? Isn't she supposed to be here with us...?"

"Eren," said Mikasa. "Who's [Name]?"

"I...I..." Eren drifted off. The dream was rapidly evaporating from his mind, erasing all thoughts of the girl whom he swore he had been with. "Who?"

"You've been crying," she noted. "We should head back."

"I—I guess we should."

As he got up, he had the strangest feeling that someone should have been helping him up—someone who was not Mikasa but some absent person. His heart ached uncomfortably like he was missing someone.

Eren hoisted the thick firewood on his back. He stared at the spot where he had slept. Strangely, he could almost envision an adult woman sleeping there as well. Her face was mottled in the lost memory, like he was looking at his reflection in a lake.

He scratched his nape. When he rubbed his face, it was odd when he found that it was not dirt staining his cheeks but instead sand, as though he had been trapped in some kind of dune. He gazed at the tree, wondering why he was suddenly thinking of stars. It was both a prison and liberation.

Mikasa called his name. She was already descending the hill, on her way back to Shiganshina.

Somehow, he knew that if he went to Shiganshina now, he would have the urge to sit outside his house and wait for someone to pass by.

He shook his head. That couldn't be right... no one had ever presented themselves to him. Not even his neighbors, even though he could hear some woman, a mother perhaps, sometimes calling for the name of her daughter. But he had never seen her. She had never introduced herself to him. Maybe he really was just tired.

Eren continued his way alone.

-

Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
'Cause you don't love me anymore.