The waves crashed in onto the shore, washing away the prints of bare feet walking along the water's edge as soon as they were made. Hands would occasionally reach into the shallow water to obtain shards of shells, and the water would gladly return any shells unwanted to the ocean where they wence came.
The boy walking along the shore crouched down every so often, inspecting a creature the ocean had brought him, as if it were reminding him there was good in the world now that he was safe. He'd found a hermit crab and carried it with him for a while, affectionately talking to it, trying to think of any topic to tell it about besides war.
The thought of the word alone made his temples throb with a forming migraine.
Once the hermit crab wanted off of the small pile of broken shells in his hands, he was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, alone with the shoreline, alone with the warm sunset touching his scarred skin that was finally not covered by a uniform that was held in place by straps for his gear. He avoided looking at his skin, though. It only brought the headache.
After a while of walking and observing what the ocean was giving him, he decided to sit down and look at the sky above the water. It was beautiful this time of day, he decided, and he didn't think he'd seen anything like it before. Shades of pinks, oranges, and reds danced across the late afternoon sky, and the water liked it so much it reflected it to show the world. To show the boy. To make him feel warm, like the sun made it feel.
Or, at least, how the sun should have made it feel. Rather, the water was cold against the boy's bare toes. The water swelled up to his ankles as it came in and out, waves gently rushing onto and away from shore almost in time with the boy's breaths. The boy sat there for a long time, in silence and alone, before the first tear fell. It fell in silence, save for the rushing of the water infront of and below him, and joined the waves as they retreated. But, the rest of the tears weren't so fortunate.
The boy pulled his knees closer to his chest than they had previously been. He clutched the broken shards of shells he'd gathered in one hand and instinctively reached his free hand up to grip at his blond locks. Simple tears turned into sobs that wracked his thinning frame, and before he knew it he was trying to bury his face in his knees.
He gripped the shells in his hand tighter as he wrapped his arms around his legs, almost rocking back and forth with his sobs as everything came rushing back to him, so much faster than the water came rushing to meet him.
He could hear their screams.
He could hear their sobs.
He could hear the sickening crunching of their bones.
And he could hear the silence that followed.
"It was beautiful," the boy began happily. It was a few days later, and he'd made it home from the ocean, back to where he'd moved after the war - a small village formed by veterans and their families and friends outside the walls. He sat in the shade as he hummed, laying out the shells he'd collected to show them off. "I got these for you guys. It was amazing! The ocean just gives them away!"
There was silence in response to his excitement, which he didn't mind. He took it as a sign to keep going.
"The sky was so pretty. It's almost undescribable. Hey..." he turned to face someone. "Do you remember when we'd sneak out and sit on the roof of that abandoned house? Remember how pretty the sky was? It was so much more beautiful over the water!" His face immediately sombered, and he pulled his knees to his chest a little. "I wish you could have come with me. You would have loved it."
He turned to face another someone after he took a moment. "I don't know if you were ever that into sunsets, but the colors reminded me of you! They were red, and orange, and... so many warm colors. You like warm colors, right?"
He seemed hesitant about his assumption, and the silence that followed his inquiry didn't help.
He pulled his knees further to his chest, resting his chin where they met and wrapping his arms around his shins. He sat like this for a few minutes, until he heard the crunching of boots on the gravel path behind him.
"Armin!"
The boy jolted in surprise, and he shook a little as he craned his neck to see who was behind him. A familiar face came into view, and it was a very, very concerned one.
"Hold on a second, guys, let me see what he wants," Armin muttered to his conversational partners as he stood slowly, turning to meet his other friend as he walked toward him. "Yeah, Connie?"
"We're having a gathering at the town square. It's been a month since we knew we erradicated them all. Can you wrap up your..." Connie hesitated, "Conversation, and head there?"
"Yeah! Just... start ahead. I'll catch up," the blond boy hummed, tone happy but eyes starting to show vacancy. Connie sighed and smiled. It was a smile full of pity, but he was certain the boy didn't catch it.
"Alright. Don't be too long, though. They're going to have some fresh food, and I doubt it'll last long."
Without any more exchange, Connie made his way back to the path behind him, and Armin returned to his previous spot, apologizing to the two he'd been speaking to as he did so.
"I have to go now. I promise I'll visit again soon. Oh!" he quickly reached forward, almost forgetting something important. "I forgot! I divided the shells for you guys!"
As he handed over the shells, you could hear them hitting stone. Armin struggled to smile as he poured the divided shells onto the stones, and once he was done, he took a shakey breath. The sound of fingers brushing against a subtly chalky surface could be heard, and once the sound ended, Armin had brushed some sand that had fallen with the shells off of the stones to reveal names.
They weren't visible in his shadow - not really, anyway. But as he stood to catch up to Connie, the dwindling light of the setting sun illuminated the stones beautifully, revealing the stones to each have similarly simplistic engravings.
One read Mikasa Ackerman.
The other read Eren Jaeger.