Chapter 38.5
It would be a hundred times easier if we were young again.
-
"Are you sharpening your weapon, Y/N?"
"It's helpful," you deadpanned. "Why don't you help me?"
It was not supposed to be a command, but it came across as one. The cadet you had been talking to flushed, pleased with the responsibility of given a personal task.
The same cadet had been bright enough to place a shallow container before you, with water sloshing against the sides and rough blocks of stone set in the center. A damp cloth draped over the edge of the thick wood and a new selection of knives beside you were lined up next to your thigh.
You took the cloth and swiped it over the surface of the whetstone in front before taking one of the blades into your hands, the tips of your fingers resting flat on the broad side of it, and you pressed the edge of the cold, shining metal across the span of the earthenware block, as slowly and steadily as an artist perfecting her art. Many eyes followed the flourishing curves of your movements.
It would feel so good to gouge them out, you thought.
No, that's fucked up.
Murderer.
There was an elegance to your blade-grinding movements, a sign that you had done this a million times before along with servicing your other weapons, as well as a flow to the steam like the sea turning stone into sand. You had to be sensible and pragmatic: anger was best channeled through work instead of play. These knives would be useful when you would encounter the enemy. But the question was, who was it?
You gazed at the blades to see your own reflection.
There they are.
Out of curiosity, you asked your subordinate, "Have you ever killed a person, Elise?"
She looked up, startled by your sudden address, and then nodded.
"You have?" you asked.
"In Marley," she explained. "I set off a bomb that blew up a street. A man and a woman got caught up in the blast."
Great, you're a murderer because of me.
You left abruptly. Your moods were changing so fast that it gave everyone whiplash. They spoke quietly whenever you were around, like one wrong word could set you off. By the way you were acting unstable, they were probably correct.
But how were you supposed to be calm when you were breaking down?
You were washing blood off your hands when Eren came into the room. You tensed up like you were afraid.
Was this selfishness, or selflessness? You had never realized how distant you and Eren had gotten. You did not understand him as well as you thought you did, and that pained you.
You used to be able to read him like a book. Now, you barely knew what was going on in his mind. And even if he tried to explain it to you, it would fall on deaf ears because you just couldn't understand how he could manage to do such evil.
There was no point in dwelling on childish things like friendships or small talk; your task began and ended with the destruction of humanity, and any other foe was a mere pawn in an intricate game of chess. It was cruel. It was the ultimate violence. It was your best chance.
"Sulking again?" Eren asked. The pent-up resentment you'd been nursing began to surface. "You can always leave if you want to. I won't force you to stay."
Your insides churned with anger and sadness, gasoline and a match. You and Eren had once been dear to each other. How could it come to this?
"Just because you've forgotten doesn't mean that you don't have to be responsible for everything," Eren said. "Because I haven't forgotten anything. I don't have the luxury of forgetting."
That made you snap.
"Luxury?" you asked, infuriated. You slammed your hands on the table, face contorted in anger. "Forgetting is hell!"
Eren regarded you with animosity, unfazed by your sudden outburst. "I'm being serious. I tried to warn you back then."
"Did we mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?" In that moment, you felt pathetic, like you were begging for him to stay. Reminding him that you once loved him so deeply. It was like talking to a wall. Regret filled you like cement filling an old sack.
Perhaps it was your fault. Perhaps you could have done something. But what? Didn't you try everything already? Perhaps you should have loved him harder. Talked to him more even if he avoided the conversation. Let him know he wasn't alone. But there were just some things you could never give to him no matter how hard you tried.
"You do matter to me," he said. "That's why I'm giving you the option to get out while you still can."
"You don't get to tell me that and walk away without guilt. You didn't just betray my trust. You destroyed everything I worked hard for."
You wondered if he even cared.
"Go on," Eren said. "Hate me. But that doesn't change the fact that you need me. You're not going to kill the Founding Titan."
You both had reached a stalemate. Anger surged, fizzled out, then surged again. You were like damp coals that just wouldn't light. He wasn't arrogant because arrogance was only misplaced confidence. He was only saying the painful truth.
You scoffed.
"Every time I look at you, all I see is the dead face of the person who once told me he loved me, that I was one of the few things that made this world good," you laughed hollowly. "I don't even know you anymore. I don't know who I am. What's worse is that you're all I know even though you're a stranger."
Only when you felt something hot drip off your face did you realize that you were crying. Your body shook, hacking with sobs that wouldn't stop spilling out because holy shit, the person you love the most is pushing through the most unimaginable evil you could think of and he didn't even seem the least bit sorry.
"I can't do this anymore," you said. "I love you, but I can't do this anymore. I can't go with you."
You wiped your eyes. You used to be okay with crying in front of Eren, but now, it made you burn with shame like he was going to chastise you or look down on you for being so emotionally weak.
"Y/N."
It took a few moments for you to collect yourself enough for a response.
"Look at me."
"What?" you asked, forcefully.
"I don't want to pretend like what I'm doing is good," he said. "I don't want you to feel like you're trapped here."
"It's not about me, Eren," you said, gritting your teeth. "I'm mad at you."
"Good. Be mad at me. Take apart every single word I said, strip me of every action I've ever done. Then maybe you'll understand that I'm honest when I tell you that I care about you."
"No, you don't." Your voice cracked.
"Yes, I do."
"No."
"I do."
"Eren."
"I love you."
Silence. A few beats passed where you both just stared at each other, breathing, and you could feel yourself shatter into a million pieces that only he could fix.
"Don't," you breathed out.
It was like hanging off the edge of a cliff. You could struggle at the ledge, you should pull your weight back to safety, but gravity was stronger. It would be easier to let go and plunge to your death. So that was what you did.
And you hated yourself for it.
"But it's true," said Eren.
"If you loved me, you'd actually try to listen. Eren, I'm sorry. I know you want us all to live peacefully. But to slaughter innocent people? That's not something we can all ignore once it's all over."
Eren's eyes studied you carefully. He had expected you to burst like this. And he understood. It wasn't as though he asked you of something that you could so easily shake away. He had asked you to help him kill people who had no say in the war—something that you swore you'd never do. It was only natural for you to feel antsy, and drown in the guilt of taking the knife.
"Calm down—"
"Don't tell me to be calm, Eren."
The air was thick with tension. You were a glass ball in Eren's hands.
Eren lifted an arm to you.
"C'mere," he said. "My pretty girl."
You were so weak, so vulnerable in that moment, that you choked out a sob and let him wrap an arm around you in an embrace. You hated him, you were sure you did, but you loved him so much that you would still welcome him because that was the only thing you were sure of anymore.
He hugged you, and you were so desperate for any sign that Eren was still human, that you let him comfort you. Hearing it soothed the last of the jagged bitterness that had begun since the moment he found out about the double life you lived in Marley. You were watching him closely, searching for the answer in the slight emotion in his eye that meant concealment and utmost emotion.
"Every beat of my heart is for you," he murmured into your ear. "as long as I'm alive, I'll love you with all my whole heart."
"Eren..."
"You don't have to love me back. I know I'm a piece of shit. You aren't."
Your eyes welled up.
"But if you want me — if you truly want me —" he said, finally meeting your tear-streaked gaze. "I'll always be yours."
Those fucking eyes. The same ones you used to gaze into as a child. They made you feel like everything was going to be okay.
The confession poured out in broken hiccups, the child inside you coming out.
"I'm—hic—I'm scared, Eren. I don't want anyone to die."
He stroked your head, comforting and understanding.
"By all means mask your fear from others, but be honest to yourself."
Masking fear was a survival essential. So much so that you didn't feel fear as others did. Some things you were born with, and others were epigenetic alterations, adjustments. So you could be damaged by fear. It could cause you harm. The difference was, it shut them down, and it made you more alert, more adept.
"I'd be more concerned if you weren't anxious or nervous because there is all the difference in the world between brave and foolhardy. You are brave, so you have these feelings. It's good. It makes you more reliable and solid."
Eren was only voicing out what you already knew. He understood you so well. You clung to that thought.
"You don't have to be strong in front of me, okay? You can be vulnerable. I'll keep you safe from this world. Okay?"
His words were so soothing, eyes so hypnotic, that you found yourself nodding even though you knew he was only saying this to calm you down. Because it felt so good to hold on to the faintest sliver of hope. You needed it or else you'd perish.
He stroked your head. You leaned into his touch like you were starving for it. He gladly gave you more.
"Okay."
"C'mere," he said, and he placed his lips over yours.
Eren, being older and bigger now, had a mouth that felt rough and heavy as it moved against yours. You struggled to find sync with him for a few seconds until he tilted your head and deepened it. Without meaning to, you moaned, a sound that was low and guttural like an animal.
"You could go a bit easier on me you know," you couldn't help but point out. "The cadets put me in a bad mood. They make the air here sick."
"I'll go easy on you when you calm down on everyone."
"Those cadets will die."
"Stop talking about them. They don't matter," Eren said with a straight face. "They just look up to you."
You couldn't help but snort. "So possessive."
"I'm not," he replied. "They're just annoying."
Rolling your eyes, you pulled him back in. Your lips found each other easily, teeth clicking messily and tongues lapping. How many times had he held you like this since you were young? How many times had he tempted the primal instinct in you? Even though he was always domineering, his touches felt fragile, like you could vanish at any time.
There was always a desperation that hung over your relationship, and it was even stronger now that you were older and there was no telling what would happen tomorrow. His thumb dug into your hipbone, firm enough to leave a bruise. You knew he'd strip you bare and kiss them later, and there was something so damn ironic in the thought of Eren lovingly licking the wounds that he put on your skin.
You had to draw back for air, and he let you, until you pulled him back in again. His hands began to roam under your shirt, and yours found themselves teasing his belt loops. You parted his lips with your tongue and allowed yourself to run it over his. You were breathing in each other's air, or what remained of it anyway.
This time, he was the one pulling back first, panting.
You decided that you seeing Eren thrown off. It was always he who had the upper hand. It gave you satisfaction to think that you had your own ways too.
You were his, and he wanted all of your pleasure to come from him. All you saw, all you heard, all you tasted—it always circled back to him. Your Eren. No matter what cruel fate awaited you in the world beyond the walls, further into the dark war you'd brought upon yourselves, nothing could tear you away from him.
"I love you," he said. His eyes and his voice were hollow, tempting fate. He repeated the words like a broken record, switching sides whenever things reached their end.
But you knew he truly meant it. Despite the fucked up way he did it, you knew he did.
Maybe that was why Eren was also desperate for you to stay.
You took slow breaths and allowed yourself to bury your nose in his shirt, where his heart beat within his chest in a song of life.
"I know."
-
Some general musings about AOT season 4 (this is lowkey a whole essay but):
This wasn't too long because it was so mentally draining and toxic LOL man season 4/Enemies Eren is such a damn headache. He hurts Reader, she flinches away, he reminds me that he does love her, she goes back, repeat. His relationships are complicated. He will push people away to save them. I know that the fandom loves the get rumbled stay humbled jokes but rationally speaking, people who commit genocide don't live without guilt eating them alive. Reader and everyone else was pretty mentally tortured by this point.
When I wrote this, I tried to imagine what it's like to live in AOT, where you fight only to find that everything you knew was a lie and a whole world oppressed you for something you didn't do, and you can't even be mad at them all because they were brainwashed. You were raised to protect your people. You try to justify your own violence, but you can't. Because how could you ever live freely with that weight on your conscience and an ocean of blood on your hands? You can blame the monsters who wanted power, but you've got to protect the people you love. And if that's the case, doesn't that turn you into a monster too? How are you any better than your enemy? You became what you sought to destroy. You're fated to fall victim to a cycle of hatred.
That's why the light in AOT is love. Love between E & M, EMA, Levi's dedication to Erwin, Annie for her father, Falco with Gabi, Carla's love for her son, Grisha being told to love someone or else the cycle will repeat. You don't need to be special, you just have to be content that you were born into the world. People say Eren was in it for revenge, but he was not. Eren did it out of love, even if it was sick and twisted. So, the love Eren shows in Enemies is pretty sick and twisted too, but it's there. He's no perfect lover boy and he hurts everyone, but he does it because he's not free to make his own decisions. I think that the only way Eren can be "free" is if he were content, but because he's in a cycle, that won't happen and that is why he will never be free.