Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan. Property of Hajime Isamaya
Title: We, Dreamers. Ch.1 – Hello my Old Heart
Word count: 3536
Note: What am I doing?
Chapter 1
Hello my Old Heart
Hello, my old heart
How have you been?
Are you still there inside my chest
I've been so worried
You've been so still
Barely beating at all
His name was Jean Kirschtein. He was a normal university student, leading a normal life. A plain life, to be exact. Plain and boring. Still, this will be a story about him, about his plain life which will soon enough take some kind of odd turn. A faithful meeting which will change his life forever. A story about how he met his most beloved.
This story starts October 2014. Jean has just started adapting to his new university life, which was not that hard to do since it was about the same as his former boring highschool life. He went to Trost University. He just picked it out randomly. He did not know what to do with his future anyway and this lack of motivation did not seem to bother his parents. So, September 2014, he moved out of his parent's house and started living on campus.
The dorm he lived in was the most expensive. He shared a sort of apartment with five other students. Three rooms, one bathroom, one kitchen, one big living room, all that for six people. It was a nice deal. A real nice deal if not for his flatmates. He had to share his space with Armin Arlert and Connie Springer – he knew them from highschool – and Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover – he met them in university, taking same classes as Bert - which was not the bad part. The bad part was Eren Jaeger. For the 15 years Jean has known this permanently angry bastard, they have never even once been able to have a correct conversation without insulting each other. Eren never got over the fact that Jean, long ago, has asked his adopted sister, Mikasa, out. At that time, kindergarten Jean was rejected flat out. And since then, 15 years after, Eren Jaeger still hated his guts. And now they had to share an apartment, you could picture the tension.
That is why Jean avoided being 'home'. He spent most of his time in the coffee shop nearby or in the library, not studying of course, just killing time. His maths classes never once perked his interest. All he had to do was not fail the year. A minimum work was far more than enough for that.
That day, his presence at the dorm was inevitable. Since morning, Jean had had a ridiculously painful headache. He had no idea where it came from. He did not have any fever. No runny nose or cough. Just this stupid headache. After a long inner war, he finally decided to get back to his warm and fluffy bed. He could ask Bert for his evening class notes later. And Connie should still be lolling around with his best friend, Sasha. So, normally, there should be no one in the apartment. Jean smiled. A quick smoke followed by a long afternoon nap alone and at peace. Sounded great.
Yes, great, if not for the sound of video games he heard from the living room. Jean groaned. There was only one fucker who was stupid enough to skip classes. He walked across the living room, trying his best to avoid any human contact. Forget smoking, better head directly to bed...
"Oi, not going to class?" Eren Jaeger shouted behind him.
"No. I'm feeling sick." Jean hoped that his 'sickness' would make Eren consider the word 'pity' and leave him be. "I'm going to sleep."
"How weak." Was all Eren said. Jean was not energic enough to talk back. He simply scuffed as an answer. He dragged his feet to his room and, as soon as the door was closed, let his body fall to his comfy bed. He drapped his body into a coocoon and breathed in slowly. He could hear the faint sounds of Call of Duty from outside. It was kind of a lullaby. This headache was driving him mad.
It took him a bit longer than expected to fall asleep.
When Jean opened his eyes once again, he was falling down. Underneath him, he could only see pure white clouds. Soft looking, like cottoncandy. Above him, the sky was shining bright blue. The bluest blue one could ever see. The sun was up high in its azul canvas.
Jean looked down to the clouds. The first time he had this dream, around ten years ago, he screamed like a little girl. He screamed until he could no longer breathe. Then, after taking a few good puff of air into his lungs, he screamed again until his voice died. But no matter how long he screamed, how long he wailed, he never reached the surface of the earth beneath. When he woke up, his mother had to hold him for an hour in order for him to calm down. She told him it was just a dream and he would never have to live something like that again. But that was not the case, a few nights after, he dreamed the same dream. And some time after that he dreamed about his fall again. And with each dream, it became more vivid, more realistic, until one night, he started to feel the wind on his face and hear the birds from afar. He dreamed the same dream over and over. So many times, he has lost count. So many times, he stopped telling his parents about them.
He never hit the floor. Each dream would stop right after he went through the clouds, if not before. He sometimes caught a glimpse of green and light brown, but that was all. He could barely tell if he was above sea or land.
When he turned fifteen, he started hearing a voice during his niget time free fall. It was a male teenager's voice, no doubt. He could never determine where the voice came from. At first, he would hear it only once in a while, but as he turned seventeen, the voice became a permanent part of his reverie. It would always say the same thing: 'Jean'. Over and over and over and over again. It was a joyful voice, kind and warm. But somehow, it scared Jean. Not really 'scare', he just felt uncomfortable hearing this voice, as if he was supposed to know who it was. As if he was trying to forget who it was.
This night, like all other dreamy nights, Jean was falling. He flipped over mid-air, watching the bright blue sky was always better than the clouds. At least that was what he thought... Plus, this position made him feel like he was simply floating on water, not falling to his never-to-come death. After a few seconds into the drop, the voice started ringing: 'Jean... Jean...'. Somehow, it seemed a little closer than before, but Jean could not care less. He closed his eyes and breathed the thin air. A few seconds afterwards, he felt the dampness of the clouds. It was cold but somewhat nice. Like always.
Only that this time, he fell out of that mild dampness. He continued on plunging to the earth. Jean snapped his eyes open. Upon him was no longer a great mass of cerulean. It was white. He saw wild geese fly nearby, their quacking louder than ever. He whirled onto his stomach. Beaneath him, he could finally see. After more than thirteen years, he finally saw the vast emerald plain underneath. Slightly further away, he could see some kind of wall and a medieval looking village.
The boy's voice was getting louder and louder with each meter he fell. It almost sounded like a scream.
Jean stopped breathing. This was what he has always wanted. What he has always wished for. To finally see what was under those large puffy clouds. To finally crash onto the solid ground. But this... This was too realistic. Too realistic. Too unpredicted. Too fast. The landscape was getting nearer. So near Jean could tell two blades of grass apart. Nearer. Nearer. Nearer. Too fast. Too fast! He instinctively used both his arms to cover his face. Not that it would really help him from this assured death. He was no longer even sure if he was still in his dream. What if this became reality? What if he really is falling to his doom?
What if?
Jean opened his eyes. He could see blades of grass above him. He could also see the sky. Green mixed with blue and white. The wind was blowing softly, making the high grass swirl lazily. Between the grasses were small purple and yellow pansies. They were shyly dancing in the summer breeze. A few meters away - probably around 100 -, he could observe a tall wall. It was the only steady thing in the view. Everything else was just swirling around. Everything apart that wall.
It was a ridiculously tall wall. The entire facade was made out of bright light brown bricks. Jean wondered if it was there to protect the city from things like barbarians. But still, it was way too tall. He has no idea what kind of country had this kind of protection. And still, what kind of country still use walls to protect themselves.
"It's a dream Jean. You probably are in an imaginary land..." He muttered to himself.
"Yeah... Totally..." A voice answered from behind. Jean turned back instantly. Just behind him, there stood a young adolescent. Jean recognized the voice. It was the same voice that has been calling him all these years. The teenager had slick black hair, cut into some kind of bowl. He was tall, certainly taller than Jean. His face was decorated with freckles. Lots of freckles, to be honest. All together, he was a nice looking young man.
As for what he was wearing, it was some kind of uniform. A leather jacket over a white shirt. And what was that even? Some sort of leather skirt thingy? With leather belts wrapped every here and there. Weird uniform was weird indeed. The jacket was broded, three time the same sigil. It was two swords, crossed. One white. One black.
Jean looked at himself. He was still wearing his same old sweater and wornout jeans. Boring...
The newcomer sat next to him. "We finally get to meet again huh?" He said in a soft voice.
"Meet again?" Jean repeated. "Hey... You're the voice that has been calling me all these years yeah?"
The boy's smile faded a little, leaving a barely curved line lignering on his lips. "My name's Marco Bodt. I've been waiting to see you again Jean." There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, mixed with delight.
"What do you mean 'meet again'?" Jean asked one more time. "Do you know me? How?"
"Do you know what this place is?"
Don't fucking answer a question with a question! Jean screamed inside. "Dream land..." He rolled his eyes while answering. Where else could it be? This kind of place did not exist in the real world...
"We're just outside of Trost." Marco said. He pointed. "Do you see that wall there?" The boy asked him, not answering his question. Would it kill to just give one logic answer? Jean did not reply for fear he might spit out words too mean – even for an imaginary character –. "This whole place doesn't have a name. A nameless land..."
Jean peered to the barricade once again. It was surrounded by only vast plains and he could not the city beyond the wall.
"How high do you think it is?"
Stop asking fucking non relevant questions! Jean screamed in his head. Still, he evaluated the standing facade. There was nothing to compare the wall to in the lowlands. No trees or beasts in sight. "I don't know... About 5 or 7 meters?" Something average probably, like this whole dream.
"It's 50 meters tall." Marco boasted in a proud voice as if he was the one who had to built it so tall and imposing. Jean opened his mouth just to shut his lips tight again. How could an era like this built a wall tall like that? And for what fucking purpose? 50 meters? Even the best lance pierre could barely throw a rock above 20 meters! Why exploit thousands of people to built something that tall?
"You're probably wondering: why build a wall so high?" Freckle face chuckled at him. "In this world there are frightening things. We call those things titans."
"Titans huh?" Jean murmured. Yeah right some barbarians... Nice name though.
"They're not what you think they are." As if he could hear the two-toned. "They're not human, Jean. Literally." He kept on looking at the wall. Jean did the same. He noticed something new. Something was moving against the bricks. A few of them, to be exact. Some... naked people?
"What the fuck?" Jean uttered. There were naked people grinding up against the wall. Those facade were 50 meters tall... Which meant that those human-like thing were at the very least 10 meters tall. Jean squinted his eyes. They looked anormal, deformed and defying every laws of physics. The freshman stepped back. "What the fucking hell are those?" He shouted at the boy beside him.
"Titans." Marco said simply. "They're creatures that have been roaming around for 300 hundred years now. Our ancestors built these walls to king humanity safe. They created armies to protect our population. We live like caged animals in this place, having nowhere else to go. Jean, for so long we have lived in constant fear..."
Jean blinked. It did not make much sense to him. Walls? Titans? Soldiers? "Are you...?" He started, only to stop mid sentence since the answer was obvious. Marco nodded anyway. "Right..." The older man finished.
"You were too Jean."
Jean faced the teenager. "What?" He forced out with what seemed like a chuckle. "I was also a soldier? You must be shitting me." He gritted his teeth.
"No." Was the simple answer Marco gave him. It cut through him like a blade. He bit his lips. What kind of dream was this?
"It may simply be a dream for you now Jean..." Marco stood up. "But every single thing I say here was once the truth."
"So..." Jean followed the freckled boy. "You're telleing me that somewhere in history all this existed. Somewhere in the past, there were children fighting off weird monsters and nobody took the fucking time or had the fucking sense to write it down?" He found his voice trembling. "Somewhere in that ignored history, I was out here in this craze land?" He yelled at last, unable to keep his raging feelings.
Violet and yellow flowers danced lively with the wind, in contrast with the titans and the wall.
"It may be slightly more difficult than that." Marco turned away. With his back facing the wall, he began to walk, hands holding behind his back, nonchalant. Jean pursued him. "The world where this occurred is not your world. It's like a parallel universe, another version of the Earth. But if we had to date this event in your world, it would have been a thousand years ago."
Jean's head was spinning. He could barely grasp the flood of information that came rushing over him. He reached out and grabbed the taller man. "Oi! Oi!" He turned Marco to face him, both his hands clutching both shoulders as strong as he could. "You'e got to be fucking kidding me! I don't have time for this nor do I want to! Parallel worlds? Fucking shit!" The last part was most likely said to himself.
Marco did not reply. He let Jean shout and swear and huff and puff and sit down and pout like a little child.
"A dream. All but a stupid motherfucking dream." The older boy kept on muttering. He let himself fall onto his back. Tiny blades of grass made their way through his clothes and stung softly his skin, making his back itch a little. He turned his head to face a pansy, looking straight at him. "What the fuck..." He growled at the little purple flower.
Marco waited beside, still on his two feet. He waited until Jean stopped muttering. He waited as his companion stared blankly into the blue infinite sky. He waited and waited as if he was born to do it.
"Are you gonna wait like that forever?" Jean said after what seemed to him like a few hours – maybe two or three –. How long will his dream go on anyway?
"I've grown used to waiting Jean." Marco said.
Jean sat up. He ran his hand on his pants. His cigarettes were still in his pockets. The brunet pulled one out and lit it up. He desperately needed a smoke. "You've been waiting for me?" He asked between two breathes of nicotine.
"For so long yes." An answer that made his heart skip.
"Who are you anyway?" Jean repeated. He felt a grip to his heart. He felt as if he was not supposed to ask such a question, as if he was supposed to know who this mysterious younger man was, as if he was supposed to remember each and every freckle on that body. A sort of meloncholia.
"I told you. Marco Bodt."
"There's a sequel to that."
"Marco Bodt, 104th trainee squad." Marco hesitated a little. "We knew each other Jean, from training. And since we've parted, I've always been longing to meet you again."
"Why is that?" Jean asked. He squashed the cig butt on the ground next to him. He was starting to feel dizzy again. Though this time, it was not from the flow of information. He was just suddenly feeling tired and heavy. His feet and lower body were sinking into the damp earth. "Ugh..." Jean groaned while holding his forehead. It was beating, just like his heart. Something he thought he had forgotten. A sound, badum badum, he thought no longer existed in his body. Both were throbbing quite painfully. "Ah shit, what now?" He moaned.
"I had to tell you something. Something I never got the chance to say to you..." Jean could barely make out what Marco was saying. There was some kind of white noise in his head, mixed with what seemed like a shout. He shook his head several times, trying to chase whatever those sounds were, unsuccessful. The younger boy's sight was lost in the horizon. Not once did he look back at Jean despite the later's clear expression of pain.
Jean could no longer hear what Marco was saying. His sight was starting to fail him too. The boy was now only a fuzzy dark figure in the blue and green horizon. He tried to call out his name, but no word nor sound travelled out his throat. He heard his name, however it was not his dream companion's voice. Jean felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the dirt. There was nothing he could do.
Nothing he could do.
"Jean fucking Kirchstein!" Connie screamed into his ear. Jean's eyes snapped open. He was still in the bed, in the exact same position. He could still hear Eren's game next door.
"Is Sleeping Beauty awake yet?" His arch rival mocked.
"Fuck you." Jean grumbled. He tried to sit up with the blanket still wrapping him. His head was still resonating. "What time is it?" He growled.
"A little past six, according to Eren you've been asleep for three hours." Connie answered. "Now get off my bed." He said using his foot to push his roommate playfully. It was only then that Jean realized that he fell alseep on Connie's bed. He was too tired to notice it before. He could hear the smaller man whine about how exhausted he was after a long day of college. It suddenly stopped.
"You alright?" Connie asked.
"Sure, I'm fine." Jean answered, slightly taken back by his roommate's sudden show of concern. He get out of the bed and landed on his own matress.
"Sure Sure?" Connie insisted. Jean could hear his nerves crack.
"Yes. Why." He barked.
"Nah man, it's just that... you're crying." Connie said in a whisper.
Jean touched his face. His cheeks were damp and his lips trembling. "What the fuck?" Jean gasped. Connie looked sincerely concerned. "I'm fine Connie." He said in a softer voice.
"Alright." Connie murmured.
Jean groaned into his pillow. His eyelids felt heavy. He closed them with a sigh.
"Are you gonna sleep now?" His roommate asked. "It's barely past six and you've just woken up."
"Mhm..." Jean moaned before falling into slumber. He fell into a dreamless night.
Who was that? His sleepy thought started to think. What did he have to say to me anyway? Was anything of that reality? What was important enough to bring him into my dreams anyway?
Will I ever see him again? He and those freckles...
His heart beat against his rib cage. It has been so long since the last time he heard it.
Hello my old heart... I see you've started beating again.
Those thoughts followed him down the dark sleepy world.
Hello my old heart
How have you been?
How is it, being locked away?
Don't worry, in there you're safe
And it's true that you'll never beat, but you'll never break.
The Oh Hello's – Hello my Old Heart
Hello! I feel like I've been away for such a long time.
Here I present to you my new baby, main baby for the time being.
If I ever have to courage, I'll update Beyond Comprehension soon.
Thanks for reading and leave a comment if you like it!
See you soon!
-Aurakann