This is a one-shot on how no matter how many deaths Levi will face, he will always be secretly crying on the inside. No matter how brave he looks to others, he is just a human who has lost his hopes to the Titans, but hid away his regrets for no one to see. I hope you enjoy this fanfic and review if you have any suggestions. Sayonara!
It's not like I don't have any feelings. I have just lost the will to understand life. Friends aren't something that will last forever. Every last person, including me, will die from the Titans, or other complicated reasons that I've learned not to care about.
I've learned to use force on my inferiors to keep things under order. How I hate that prideful look in their eyes, thinking they'll kill off every Titan in the world. How pathetic. There was a time when I felt the same way, when I thought I could rely on my friends and that I'll never have to see the darkness again. What a fool I was, to have such dreams. Everything ends in blood and violence, betrayal and cowardism, death and agony.
Then, I quit shedding those useless tears when everyone else was gone. Deep inside, I do want to rely on my comrades, but what's the use if they all die but me? Fate is so cruel that it let me live through these experiences countless times. But I know I can't die, because my comrades depend on me, even though with every slash of a blade, I feel myself venting my anger out on why those who fought bravely had to leave so quickly.
Sure, I also have my own dreams, but this world keeps crushing them. With every hope there is a downfall. With every Titan, there is a death. With every kill, there is the pain. I try not to let those who follow me also get their dreams crushed, as well as their bones and blood, but what can I do? Death has become so normal for me, it scares others. No one can approach me. No one can challenge me. Not until I convey my message across. There is no love in life, no matter how many times a friend can help. But I just turn my head and calmly move on expressionless, denying that what has happened is true.
The deaths have happened. The tears have been shed. So what? Is it really all there is to life? Is humanity hating us for the lives we've taken at every expedition? It's happened to me. The light in their eyes, faded and glazed now. Their bodies, once alive, now gloomy and motionless. The stupid way people think of being the hero and saving everyone, but only get killed themselves and let others cry over them in return. When you save someone and sacrifice yourself, you're hurting yourself. You take away your life on the battlefield without consideration. They think, "Oh, I can do this with you! I can help!" Their voices are upbeat at first, but then they all perish and wither away, always to be lonely for eternity, part of a new world that I cannot meet. At first, I vent my anger, I let the blood mixed with tears run down my face as I try to protect the already-dead bodies of my friends.
As stupid as the life underground. For my comrades and I, we all had a burning desire within to welcome blue skies and the blazing sun. It was a dream that I welcomed. I let the sweet and innocent into my life, and let my comrades sway my decisions. I would have hid in a barrel underground if I had to, never having to meet the fate of being in the Survey Corps. But it was too late. My two only friends, with their guts and gore everywhere, stare lifelessly at me, as if to state, "Why is the world cruel? Why can't I stay with you a bit longer?" Then, I'd avenge their prideful death, by cutting that idiotic Titan up and letting his blood stain the ground. No, I do not simply cut the neck. I'll dig deeper into that heartless soul of his and make the blood fly. I'll behead the beast and not let it heal itself, my blade going faster than the speed of light. I'll cut into those brawny arms, that weird face, and their stupid, skinless muscles.
But I could do nothing. Erwin warned me about this when he welcomed me in the Survey Corps. The fear and regrets of not anticipating what is happening next, and the tears for those who left us far too early. Our fates never intertwine for long. We end up hopeless and filled with grief. But, as the commander himself stated, I pushed down those regrets deep into my soul, only waiting to be unleashed when it is finally my time.
But then why does history repeat himself. Why did that hot-headed boy Eren repeat the same mistake I did? Why were the regrets lingering secretly under my shelled exterior, away from joy and friendship? He wanted to go alone, like I had. He knew his power of unleashing his Titan form. I warned him that whether or not whether or not we depend on our comrades, we still don't know what will happen.
And then everyone except us died.
I wished I'd done something, but I couldn't. I unleashed my hopelessness on that wretched female Titan, who thought she could get away with everything. Then, I hid the anger away. I was expressionless as always, no matter how I felt about the deaths. They repeat themselves. They reflect history. Maybe that's the only similarity Eren and I will ever have, but I no longer care. I stare blankly at the bodies and blood. I pass by my dead comrades, who have perished with lost dreams and memories.
I wait patiently for my own death. I cannot stop the deaths in the future, or bring back my friends from the past. I cannot even change the present, which was the chaos of the Titans, humanity's worst enemy. I hid my old self away, never to be unleashed again. I have no place in time. All I can do is watch, and then await my own death. I cannot wait, but I cannot run. My life will be worthless anyway, whether I die or not, against an army of Titans.
All I can do is wait, shedding tears from the inside, bravely battling on the outside. That is the only meaning of life as myself. I await my final breath, until there will peace again, even though our dreams are run over and battered...