Paper Airplanes (Ereri - SNK)

Changes.

"It is, isn't it?" he sighed. When I said nothing, he continued, "It's been almost two years and you're still mourning."

I remained silent. What was I supposed to say? 'Yeah, Armin, because I was in love with him and he promised never to leave me and then he did and now I'm empty'? Ha, good one.

"We all miss him, Eren. You know that. But we've all learned to make our peace with it. I know you were closer to him, but it's still not good for you to hold onto all of that grief."

Still quiet, I stared blankly out my window, trying to count the snowflakes and working as best I could to keep my face emotionless. Eventually, he stood back up. "You should come meet the baby," were his parting words.

I did go meet the baby, and it was just as Hanji was carrying a heap of bloodied sheets from the infirmary. There was so much blood on them, fear shot through me, but they gave me a reassuring smile and told me everyone was fine.

The baby was...creepy-looking, with a squished up, chubby face. He was the tiniest human I'd ever seen, with a swirl of dark hair and pink, pink lips.

Mikasa's tired face lit up a bit when she saw me shuffle into the room, still wrapped in my blanket. The only other people in the room were a medic I didn't recognize across the room cleaning up and Jean, asleep and snoring annoyingly on the bed next to her.

"Hey," she said sleepily; I shuffled toward her and took a seat at the edge of the chair next to her bed.

"Hey," I responded quietly. "H-how're you doing?"

"Okay. Tired." She gazed lovingly down at the infant. "But happy." She yawned. "What about you?"

"I'm fine." But that was, and has pretty much always been, my answer to that question. I expected her to pry to make sure I was telling the truth like she usually does, but she merely hummed and looked back down at her baby, eyelids drooping. "Does it have a name?"

"His name is Rory," she said.

"Hm...where'd you come up with that?"

"Jean thought of it."

My eyes flickered over to said person. "So...you just had a kid, but he's sleeping?" I muttered, jerking my chin in Jean's direction.

She glanced over at the snoring oaf, with his cheek smushed into the pillow and his hair a mess, like he'd simply plopped on the bed and fell asleep instantly. Probably had.

"He's been up for almost an entire day," she said. "I don't really mind."

I hummed, pulling my blanket tighter around me. My gaze fell back on the infant, sleeping just like his horse-faced father. "So I guess Connie can stop with the pony jokes now," I said, forcing a bit of amusement into my tone. Mikasa only rolled her eyes.

He could stop with the pony jokes, and Jean could stop grinding his knuckles into the top of his shaved head and giving him bruises whenever thought one up. For ex-soldiers of the Survey Corps and young adults, they sure acted like children. Though, I always figured it was simply the bliss of freedom everyone seemed to have, something that I of all people lack.

"So...what happens now?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Sleep," Mikasa mumbled as the medic from across the room strolled over and took the baby from her arms, placing him in a small basket-like thing between the beds. The medic said her farewells before exiting the infirmary.

"Yeah...but I mean..." My voice was suddenly thick; I attempted to swallow past it with no avail. "Are you gonna move out?"

She shifted onto her side, gazing sleepily at me. "Mhm. Once we find the right house we are. It's something you should think about doing, too."