Paper Airplanes (Ereri - SNK)

His Memory.

The mess hall is silent, save for the sounds of cutlery clicking against dishes, the occasional crunch, or soft clicks as glasses, cups, and salt and pepper containers are set on the wooden tables. Forks occasionally scrape across plates.

Nobody speaks. Nobody has anything to say, not even Commander Erwin. Not Hanji. Not even Sasha can be heard gushing over how delicious the food is and how starved she is after the expedition.

Things are usually much heavier than usual after returning from beyond the walls...what with dozens of casualties and the grief hanging heavy over everyone. Still, it's never this quiet, never this dismal and heavy. I feel like I'm choking on the grief, swallowing up depression instead of eggs and toast. (And I know I'm only eating because it would worry Mikasa and Armin if I don't.) They're tasteless. I won't be surprised if I see them again later...

* * *

Funerals aren't common in the Survey Corps. Too many casualties; no one feels it would mean much.

And that's why it feels strange to be standing in the fairly sized courtyard at the rear of headquarters, with everyone gathered around in uniform while Commander Erwin stands on a pedestal, Hanji at his right hand. If not for the heaviness hanging around, the grief, the shock, the situation would be awkward. No one knows what to do. How to act. And that includes myself.

The Special Operations Squad stands at the front of the crowd, me in the center. On my left is Mikasa, on the right is Jean. Armin, Sasha, and Connie make up the rest of the line, and I suddenly realize this is all that's left of us, the 104th; what with Marco's death, Reiner, Bertolt, and Ymir being traitors, Historia becoming queen, and the rest among the long (and growing) list of casualties. A list Levi is now on...

Behind us is everyone left in the Corps as of now, and so recently after an expedition, the group isn't great in number. We've lost so damn many, and even more before I joined. If I feel so burdened by all those deaths on my own shoulders from all the friends and comrades I wasn't able to save, I can't imagine how Erwin feels, or how Levi felt before...

"A great loss has fallen upon us," Erwin begins. "One of the strongest. One of the bravest. The one with the most single-handed titan kills out of the entire regiment. An exceptional soldier, pulled from the confines of the Underground City. Humanity's Strongest, who took on the major responsibility of keeping our last hope in check." Erwin's eyes fall directly on me; I feel myself tense involuntarily. "And through the years, they built up a strong relationship, a great partnership and friendship; an unfailing team..."

It's at this point in which I begin to block out Erwin's speech, casting my eyes to the ground where weeds are attempting to push themselves up through the loose dirt.

He's wrong. Our team was not unfailing; if it had been, I would not be standing here. Erwin would not be making this speech. Levi's heart...would still be beating...

But I couldn't protect him. Couldn't save him from falling victim to the jaws of that beast. In no way is his death not utterly and completely on my shoulders.

I manage to suffer through the entire speech, doing everything I can to block out his words, but every time he says Levi's name, every time he says the word 'death', my stomach churns more and more, my palms burn and I feel the urge to strike something—particularly myself. By the end, my fists are trembling and I don't realize Erwin's speech is over or what the little wet spots appearing on the dirt near my feet mean until someone holds a handkerchief in front of me in offering.

My head snaps up. Mikasa stands in front of me, her dark eyes swimming with nothing but concern. For me. Any grief she might bear isn't for Levi—it's for me and the pain I'm in. And for some reason, it angers me.