AN: So, my first fanfiction in years-I have big plans for this one, and I hope school is kind enough to allow me to finish it within a reasonable amount of time. I am a huge EreRi fan, and have always wanted to construct a rebirth fanfiction, so writing this simply makes me happy. To those who may or may not have noticed, the title of this fiction is based off a line from Hacking to the Gate, and there's a reason for that.

*Author Edits* I changed some of the phrasing to clarify my prose style. In addition, I also modified the reason behind Eren's wish, and the description of Levi's emotions, in an attempt to make them more faithful to the originals.

**Usual Disclaimer** I would love to own Shingeki no Kyojin, because then every fanfiction I write would actually be canon.

Like the diaphanous veil of a bride, the light floated before the boy's eyes. He was sitting upon a golden chair, gazing upwards, to where They hovered. They were existing yet immaterial. The silver music of silence swirled in his ears.

You have suffered, They said in sympathy. Suffered for the sake of others.

We have felt your anger, They said in guilt. The anger we have caused.

We will offer you one wish, They said in apology. Any wish you may choose.

When the third sentence fell at his feet, the boy lifted his eyes, which were forests of life.

Any wish? he asked.

Yes.

Then I wish to remember.

They shivered with surprise.

Remember? Remember your screams of pain, your curses of vengeance, the tears you shed? They asked. Why? Why remember?

He said, Because I want to remember the debt I owe to those who saved me.

And as he said so, he could see, within the white light, the winged backs of his companions form a living wall before him, sweet as a mother's embrace. They had shed blood for him; they had died for him. This next time, he thought, it was his turn.

Most of all, he did not want to forget most of all what Levi had given him. Levi had loved him and fought for him until his very essence had melded into the boy's heart and was pumped through his veins. The boy's tears were precious memoirs of him.

Very well then, They said. We will grant your wish, Eren Jaeger.

And so he awoke from his shallow sleep.

Sand squirmed his way through the cracks of his toes, and Eren wrinkled his brow at the canvas, not pleased with what he saw. He had failed to capture it, he thought, the texture of the golden grains, which were soft and warm with sun, and slightly salty. With a sigh, he looked out over the sea that lay before him, as smooth and green as jade.

"You don't have to be such a perfectionist, you know."

A striking young girl played at his feet, constructing around the two of them a small fortress of sand. Her black hair stood out in contrast to her pale olive skin, and her features were sharp and delicate, like a fairy's.

"I know, Mikasa. But it's frustrating when I can't get things right." He ruffled her hair and tried to change the subject. "What are you building?"

"A wall," she said. "To protect you."

At times, Eren wondered how much Mikasa remembered from over one thousand years ago. He had worked hard to inundate her with the pleasures of this life, taking her to make snow angels in the shimmering snow, to pick flowers in fields full of daisies, and to walk along the breakers on the beach. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, the blood of the titans seemed to already have stained her through.

A sweating man pushing an ice-cream cart stopped before Mikasa, the rusting bell tinkling softly. He threw a tired smile at Eren.

"I bet your sister would like something nice and cold right now."

Eren looked at Mikasa. "What do you say?"

Mikasa made as if to shake her head, but Eren knew better. Whenever she wanted something, her large eyes gave off a certain twinkle and her mouth trembled just a bit. He dug into his back pocket, pulled out a few crumpled bills which had gone through the washing machine more than just once. Shifting through the sweets, he chose a strawberry popsicle for Mikasa.

As the man rolled his cart away, Eren watched Mikasa munch on her popsicle, trying to hide the fact that she was quite happy. The sugary juice dripped from her chin, catching light from the sun that was sparkling off the horizon. Today, Eren thought, was truly a sweet day.

Just behind the siblings, an irate young man shook off the cherry-lipped advances of a striking brunette. He had been questioning her seconds before, even though the near certitude that she would know nothing had been hanging over his head like a cloud. But even now, he could hear the command which Erwin had drilled into his head back at the French Intelligence Agency HQ: "Leave no rock unturned."

So he was here, trudging in filthy sand and in filthy lascivious glances, and now he was going to interrogate some poor young painter who seemed to be stuck in the rut some sort of artist's block.

Not very helpful.

"Oi," he called out. "Have a second?"

With some surprise, he noticed that the back of the painter had stiffened slightly, and that the air had tensed with some palpable emotion. After the slow trickling of time, the painter turned, and Levi saw in Eren's bright green eyes old joys and wounds from long ago.

It came in a quick succession of… not quite images, but solid statuettes, scenes, that seemed to crash through his body and shake his entire being. Gaping holes that had been left by corpses covered with the bloody wings of freedom, the bubbling anger of man that had been oppressed by titan rule, the constant fear of death that had been so entrained in him that he felt fear without it. And when he had been with Eren, Levi really had been afraid, afraid because the burning eyes, the sharp purpose, and the clichéd heroism of the boy had stirred in the depths of his death-weighed heart some emotion which the Lance Corporal had never felt before—a feeling of confused protectiveness and completeness that made him forget about fear, about death, about the blood on his hands. And that was horrifying.

With a wet crash, another wave rushed onto the beach, and its spray peppered his face. The blue-tipped paintbrush had fallen from Eren's hand, and Levi saw that the lanky frame of the taller man was shivering. A single tear wound its meandering way down Eren's face, which was otherwise trying to remain composed.

Levi pulled a handkerchief from his front shirt pocket and roughly dabbed at the tear.

"Oi, Eren," he said. "Don't cry."

"Levi?" Eren asked. "You remember?"

Levi looked into Eren's eyes, and a surge of warm confusion spread through him, which he had never felt in this life, and only with Eren in his last. Without meaning to, he lightly brushed Eren's fingertips with his own, and half-grimaced as his skin tingled with the touch.

"Don't be stupid, brat," Levi said. "How could I forget?"

And Eren smiled a wet, shaky smile, one that sent another tangle of conclusion through the previous Lance Corporal's heart.

AN: So, how was it? I was really trying to bring out the chemistry between Eren and Levi through this meeting after rebirth, while at the same time not having either character too OOC. I also was never really a fan of "sex-god-Levi," and I always saw him more as a hardened soldier who becomes sort of quietly flustered and uncertain when faced with the fluffiness of romance. And I saw Eren, who has a beautiful, clear strength of purpose and youthful vitality, as unlocking a wave of emotion and tenderness in Levi's heart which no one has been able to access before.

Well, see you next chapter! (●´∀｀●)