To the stereotypical typical human, life is a hit-or-miss experience. Either they follow their dreams, a hit, or they give up and accept a life of disappointment, a miss. A person like that lives without expecting anything or anticipating what the future will throw at them. They simply wait and react, either slamming the bat into the ball at just the right moment or they strikeout. That's what makes their lives exciting, the risk of 'only living life once'. The idea that they needed to make the most out of every moment and finish the game as the star player.

On the contrary, to people like Jean Kirstein, people known as the Erros, life is a timer slowly counting down from the moment of birth; time that ticks with endless possibilities every cycle with seldom any repeats. From the moment of birth, an Erros must spend their time trying to rediscover what made their life meaningful. And if they fail to find it, they wait until their timer runs out. Then they restart over and over again; reincarnating into a new life, a new generation where things are different, yet the same. Happiness doesn't last forever, but squeezing as much joy from life while he could was Jean's greatest goal.

As he progressed through his lives, he noticed that there weren't many people like him. Humans usually forgot all about their prior lives, starting each generation with a blank slate. Jean called these people the Ignarus; they were ignorant, unaware, and inexperienced with life compared to the Erros. At first, the concept of the blank slates from birth confused him. It also hurt him, seeing all these people who used to care about him not even acknowledge his existence. But as he's progressed further and further, he's begun to stop caring about those minor people in his life. He stopped putting any effort into making friends who'd eventually forget him. All he needed was that one person who, no matter how many times he forgot who Jean was, always stuck by him every life cycle.

This person was Marco Bodt.

No matter how many times Jean had met him or what they had been through, Marco seemed to surprise him at every turn. Jean was captivated by his mannerisms that, no matter the time period, never changed; he was also delighted by the small differences each time period brought. Such as the little crease between Marco's eyebrows from all the times he had looked at Jean and raised an eyebrow at some ridiculous suggestion from Jean. Or the look on his face when he laughed. Or how he would bite his bottom lip when he was nervous and how he constantly brushed back the small pieces of hair from his face.

Every cycle, he tried to find Marco. Some cycles were successful. Some were unsuccessful. However, there were more successes than failures and every time he had met Marco, the two fell in love. He supposed that the most painful memories he created were the ones where he first meets Marco in each cycle and is not recognized by the one he loves most. Every time, he hoped Marco would remember all of the things before. Every time, he was disappointed.

Nonetheless, this never hindered his will to hunt Marco down.

Eighteen years seemed like nothing at all to an Erros. Time itself was irrelevant. It was only an obstacle. As long as he could find his love before time ran out, he could dull the pain of mental immortality.

At the moment, Jean was working in a coffee shop near the college he just enrolled in. It was far away from his home, mainly because he had already dissected every section of his hometown and determined Marco was no where to be found.

He tried to stay out of trouble, getting stuck in jail was not the best method of finding Marco, who was too well behaved and too kind to end up in trouble with the law. Unfortunately, after living for so many millennias, sometimes causing trouble or being reckless was the only way to spark some emotion into his life; this included starting fights with his annoying co-workers or getting piercings just for the brief feeling of anxiousness and adrenaline. It was borderline masochistic, but it beat the feeling of uselessness as he scribbled names with incorrect spelling onto coffee cups.

Yes, Jean is one of those assholes who purposely screws up writing the correct names onto Starbucks cups, regardless of how easy the name was to spell.

Working in this coffee shop made Jean temporarily stop believing in reincarnation, for this had to be the darkest pit of hell. Once again, he was stuck working with Eren Jaeger. In every single life that Jean ever lived, he encountered Jaeger. If God really did exist, this would be one big sadistic joke. The two had the typical cat and dog relationship and everything Eren did seemed to be an attempt at a giant "fuck you" to Jean.

Another person who as a constant in his life was Levi Ackerman. Usually the two had a business relationship with no ties in between. It was simply intuition, but Jean suspected that Levi was actually an Erros like him. However, the two never confronted each other throughout the span of time. After all, how would you react towards being asked about your interaction with someone in other lives?

"Kirschtein!" Levi snapped, holding out a plate with a blueberry muffin on it. "Pay attention for once and bring this to the customer by the couches in the university sweater. You know I don't tolerate poor work ethic," he said, voice lowering almost threateningly. Jean could remember a time when Levi wasn't like this. It was a long time ago.

Jean took the muffin gingerly, rolling his eyes when he believed that Levi wasn't looking, and opened the door separating them from the customers at the coffee shop. He spotted the guy immediately; he was facing away from Jean with his head buried over what he could only guess was a textbook. Finals season was never ending suffering for everyone on campus.

Immediately, Jean began to feel that spark once more. That overwhelming excitement that made his heart pound wildly against his rib cage. He turned around to face the wall so nobody could see his reaction to the "stranger" on the couch. His face was flushed red and his breathing was hitched. Marco, his one and only love, was sitting on the couch, lost in deep concentration as he crammed for finals. Jean finally turned himself around, his eyes falling on the muffin. Blueberries were Marco's favorite fruit in every single lifetime.

Taking in a deep breath, he attempted to compose himself. The moment of truth had finally arrived, hopefully he wouldn't blow it now. Gripping tightly onto the plate, he strode over to Marco. The raven haired boy hardly noticed him, while Jean couldn't pull his eyes away. Finally he stopped himself in front of the couch, holding out the muffin. "You ordered this, right?" He asked, attempting not to get tongue-tied. Centuries of repeating a greeting over and over and it still never became easier.

Marco glanced up from his medical textbook, the different types of cells beginning to blur again, completely unaware of Jean's excitement. In this cycle, he was studying to be a doctor. Before, he had been a writer, a lawyer, a painter, a prince. Marco had basically done any career imaginable. Anything that could change people. He was all about helping others and being inspirational. It certainly worked on Jean.
He gave Jean a genuine smile, nodding. "Yeah, I did. And thank God you came when you did. I'm starving and you've saved me from this awful studying. Finals season is actually painful," He paused, a hand brushing through his hair carelessly as he thought. "How do you manage finals?"
It was strange how the simplest movements drove Jean wild. The genuine smile, the hopeful look in his eyes, the way he pushed loose strands of black hair out of his face. He tried to play it cool, as if this moment right now only meant as much to him as it did to Marco. Jean had to remind himself that Marco was only here to study and eat. He didn't know Jean. He didn't know the past. Thank goodness Marco had initiated small talk; it made communicating ten times easier. "It's not easy," Jean managed, trying to actually focus on their casual conversation. "Sometimes I can't even bring myself to study. But I'm pretty confident. I feel as if I've been learning it over and over again." He had been learning it over and over. Nothing was new. He had lived through all the history of subjects; thus, it was easier to succeed.

Marco laughed softly, his eyes lighting up as he did so. "Over and over huh? I wish it was only that easy," he said, pausing to glance down at his open textbook. Jean's eyes mimicked Marco's, drifting toward the textbook. "What's your major?"

"Well... my parents want me to study and be a heart surgeon... repairing broken hearts and all that. The jokes never quite end," he replied, a dimpled smile shot straight to Jean. "But I'd rather be a paramedic. Less schooling and more interesting cases. More people to help. But also less money. So I guess we'll see, right?"
Unconsciously Jean's features began to soften. Everything he said was exactly what he predicted. Marco only did jobs where he could help people who needed him most. Paramedic seemed like the perfect job for him. "I say do what you wanna do," Jean stated. "You'll only be great at something if you wanna do it... Not to say you wouldn't be a good surgeon! You'd just be better doing what you want, you know?" Shit, get it together, he reminded himself.

Marco shrugged. It simply was what it was. Whether his parents wanted him to be that way or not, he respected their opinions and at least took them into consideration about his future. "Well thanks. But these finals are killing me," he responded, taking the plate into his lap and beginning to carefully eat his muffin. "Oh gosh I'm so rude... I forgot to ask your major... what are you studying?" he questioned, scanning Jean in attempt to guess.

"Economics," Jean responded, glancing toward the door to make sure his boss wasn't waiting for him. He anticipated Levi's wrath for being distracted on the job, but he could hardly bring himself to care. Once again he had met Marco and that's all he had ever needed. "Nothing interesting really. Where's your school?"

"Ah, well it's about five minutes away and while I've been to this coffee shop a few times... I've never seen you. I'm here kind of frequently… I meet up with friends," Marco retorted. "Are you new here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, the same crease appearing between his eyebrows.

"Kinda," Jean responded, though he had no clue how to add onto that statement. 'Yes I've left my home town a few months ago so I could find you and fall in love with you again' did not seem appropriate. "I moved here recently and got this job because there was nothing else."

"Well... there's always something else," Marco said with a small smile. "Things aren't always as you expect," he added. He put his plate on the side of the armchair and shut his textbook, putting it at his feet. Enough studying for today. "Well... it's nice to meet you," he glanced to Jean's name tag, pausing briefly, "Jean. And uh... I'm Marco. Marco Bodt."

Fuck. Marco was leaving. Who knew if they'd ever meet again? This was his one chance. "Wait," he mumbled, grabbing the a wrinkled napkin and a stray blue pen from the table. He scribbled his phone number onto the paper and gave it to him. "Here, uh, I know this is weird or sudden or whatever. But if you're bored out of your mind studying for your science shit, I'll be here."

Marco glanced at Jean, looking curiously at the other boy. He picked up his book, carefully taking the napkin from Jean and putting it in his pocket. "I'll take you up on that... maybe we can... do something tomorrow?" he suggested. "A group of friends and I are going out... you can invite any friends you want too. The more the merrier."

Jean smiled almost nervously, his body tensing. He didn't want to admit his lack of friends. Throughout his lives he despised meeting with people who would eventually leave him. The only solid in his lives was Marco. Sure he made acquaintances throughout the generations, but none of them were close. "Sure, sounds good. I'll-"
"Jean, I'm gonna tell Levi you're slacking again," Eren, his annoying coworker, yelled from across the room. Groaning, he turned his head to send the boy a glare. "I should go... I'll see you."

"See you," Marco replied. As Jean walked away, he approached the other side of the room to speak with his friend, Eren. "Hey Eren. Are you still going to Petra's thing tomorrow? Because I invited Jean," he said. "And I invited my room mate Armin and I think Sasha and Connie are going. And Petra invited Levi and this cute guy in her class Erwin and I think Hanji and Mikasa are going too?" he trailed off, uncertainty on his features. "Are you still interested in going?"

Eagerly Eren nodded his head in reply. "Well of course I'm going," he responded, a small smile on his face as he watched Jean maneuver past Levi to go back to the counter. "But why'd you invite horse face? That guy's the weirdest. Total dick to everyone."

Marco shook his head, tsking. "Eren, be nice," he chastised. "Plus, Jean seemed sweet. Why do you think he's weird?" he asked suddenly, turning to glance to Jean. Curiosity about the other seemed to bloom and he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the counter so he could lean his head against his hand. "Tell me more about him."

"The guy has problems," Eren explained, folding his arms over his chest. "Maybe mental or emotional, who knows. But he's not normal. He's so distant from everyone and everything. Most of the time it seems like he cares about nothing at all. I can't believe he actually bothered to have a conversation with you. I've never seen him actually enthusiastic. And he doesn't have any friends… he doesn't go to parties. Why would he want to go to ours?"
Marco shrugged. "Maybe no one has given him the chance or the time of day?" he suggested. "He seemed rather present and nice when I spoke to him. Maybe if you just tried and weren't so angry and judgemental... you'd get similar results."
"I don't think you understand," Eren pressed, glancing back at Jean. "When he began to work here, before I even introduced myself, he was already glaring at me. From the moment he saw me hatred flooded him. And I did nothing!"
Marco shrugged. "You have an asshole kind of complexion... everyone who works here does. It's hard to get to know Levi, too, and he isn't so bad." He sighed. "Maybe just try again with Jean?" He glanced down to his watch. "I have to go. See you later?"
"Asshole complexion...?" Eren mumbled, glancing over at the nearest window to look at his reflection. He frowned, turning back to face Marco. "I'm telling you... Stay away from him. But I'll see you tomorrow."
Marco chuckled, giving Eren a quick hug. "See you later. And... I like puzzles. So you can't begin to suggest that I stay away from him." He watched Eren, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "Tomorrow then."

Even though Jean was able to live and learn from multiple time periods, social interaction never became easier. This is why he spent most of his time in the corner, refusing to acknowledge even the owner of the apartment, Petra. She was the kind of person that was nice to those nobody wanted to be nice to, such as Levi.

Nothing was more awkward than showing up to hang out at someone's house and seeing your boss there.

Sulking further into the corner, Jean's eyes flashed over to Eren, who unfortunately was here as well. He was talking to an asian girl, Mikasa. It wasn't a happy reunion to see her again. Though she most likely had no memory, Jean remembered a time where he fell hard for her and was rejected immediately. She was ice cold around everyone, except of course, Eren. It was another time loop that repeated itself. Mikasa falling for Eren. Unfortunately, a second pattern also reoccurred: Eren never returning her feelings.

His eyes wandered the room, searching for the familiar freckle-faced angel. A few strangers wandered in front of Jean, attempting to introduce themselves.

"Hi I'm-"

"Connie, hi, we've met before," Jean interjected, looking right past him.

"Have we really? I don't remember-"

"Look I'm really busy. I have to go."

"Hey, I'm-"

"Sasha. I've seen you around the coffee shop."

"Oh, yeah, well-"

"I have to go," Jean muttered.

Jean continued to make excuses that would save him from having to interact with anyone other than Marco. It was only a waste of time.

But was he even here? Anxious feelings increased and he felt unwelcome and alone. Did Marco ditch him? Was he just trying to get away? Horrible thoughts bombarded Jean's mind. If things failed... Would he have to restart? Was that even an option?

Before he could further contemplate what to do with himself, Marco finally walked in. A wave of relief washed over Jean, but nobody seemed to notice his change of emotions. Most people fled to Marco, including Eren. "Hey, where were you?" Eren asked, glancing down at the two cases of beer Marco was holding. "Felt bad for Petra. Thought I'd bring something for everyone." He smiled sheepishly.

"You're the sweetest," Petra responded, taking the cases from him. She was stronger than Jean expected her to be.

"Hey Marco, a bunch of us are about to play truth or dare. You joining?" Eren suggested.

"Uh sure! Could be fun."

With a grin, Eren reached over to grab Marco's hand and pull him over to a circle of friends who were all chatting.

Jean stiffened as he felt Marco glance over at him, flashing a wide smile, which Jean understood was body language for "you come over here and play with us too".

Nervously Jean shuffled over to the group, who immediately fell into an awkward silence when he approached. All except for Marco. "Hi Jean! Are you going to join us?" The surrounding circle members seemed to want anything but that. Jaeger sent an irritated glance to Mikasa, who shrugged.

Jean, unfortunately for Eren, didn't give a shit what they all thought about him. He just needed to interact with Marco. "Sure," he replied, plopping down beside him. "Who goes first?"

Petra glanced around, looking at the people in the circle: Mikasa, Armin, Marco, Eren, Sasha, Connie, Jean, and herself. Hanji, Erwin, and Levi sat on the couch. "Well… We can have Eren, Marco, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, me, Sasha, and then… Jean," she finished. "What do you think about that?"

"Fine by me," Eren interjected, his lips pulling into a mischievous smirk as his eyes locked with Jean's, sending him a challenging look. "Dare me."

Momentarily the group was quiet as they whispered among each other, trying to decide a dare for Eren. "I got one," Jean stated, sending Jaeger his own competitive look. This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of his adversary.

"Well we should really decided as a group, right?" Armin mumbled, sensing the tension between the two.

"No no," Eren stubbornly rejected. "I'll do Jean's dare. Whatever it is."

Grinning, Jean pointed over at Levi. "Confess your undying love for Levi, then try to kiss him."

Eren's eyes shot wide open, while a few of the group members burst into laughter. "I asked for a dare, not a suicide mission!" Eren retorted, nervously glancing back at his boss. "He will actually kill me."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Petra replied, trying not to giggle. "Erwin and Hanji will probably hold him back anyways. Go for it."

Groaning, Eren pushed himself up from the ground and stared over at the couch. Clearly he wanted to cower out of the situation. Mikasa's face had hardened; she wanted to "defend Eren" from harm. But mainly she was jealous of a lost opportunity to be finally kiss Eren. Jean' s revenge-speaking personality found this highly amusing.

Finally, after much peer pressure, Eren made his way over to the couch. The entire apartment went silent as Jaeger stood there, awaiting his doom.

"L-Levi," Eren finally stuttered, his beating heart picking up as the short male turned to him with cold grey eyes. Hanji and Erwin both stared at him, almost wary of what Eren would say. "I've come to confess my undying love for you," he managed in a monotone.

"You what?" Levi questioned, voice steady as his eyes met Eren's. He didn't seem surprised, just annoyed and bitter.

Quickly Eren reached out and grabbed Levi by his shirt, yanking him into a kiss. The whole room hooted and laughed as Levi's face turned beet red. It wasn't to any body's surprise that Eren was immediately punched in the face. The laughter only increased in volume soon after. He would of done way worse, but Hanji and Erwin both grabbed onto Levi and led him toward the kitchen to get him a drink that would hopefully calm him down.

Armin patted Eren on the back for his efforts. Rubbing his wound, Eren glanced over at Jean, who wore a smug proud look on his face. He also seemed to be smiling a lot at Marco. And looking at Marco. And talking to Marco.

Eren smiled.

"Marco, truth or dare?"

Marco bit his lip. On one hand, a dare could be dangerous like the previous, but he didn't want to be the type of guy who said truth. On the bright side, he wasn't too concerned that Eren would choose something that would be dangerous for him. After all, they had been really good friends for a while. "Dare. Not that you could beat the last one," he replied, a grin still on his face from the ridiculousness of Eren's love proposal. "Give it your best shot." He was being cocky. Maybe it was because he wanted to do something reckless or maybe it was because he had already been drinking; he certainly didn't care which one of the two it was, which was odd for him. He got drunk just like the rest of his friends, but he was never reckless. Not until he took a complete stranger's phone number.

"I dare you to kiss me," Eren stated, staring directly at Jean as he said this.

The boy stiffened, his face hardening.

Marco blinked, unsure of whether he heard Eren correctly or not. "Kiss you?" The group became quiet once more, but soon the laughter and yelling erupted. "Kiss him! Kiss him!" They chanted, all except for Jean (and Mikasa).

With his usual grin, Marco shrugged and leaned over, pressing his lips against Eren's. The two were soon going at a passionate kiss. Everyone in the group was bursting with energy, laughter, and a few wolf whistles.

Jean, meanwhile, felt like he had been hit by a train. Or perhaps getting hit by a train felt way nicer than the kind of pain he experienced now.

Thousands of lifetimes had come and gone, and Jean never had to face one without Marco by his side. Or at least when he was alone, it wasn't because Marco didn't love him anymore. And he was afraid that this time, he had nobody. This time, probability had it that Marco was not his and never would be.

This time he was all alone.