Rivaille

Two: Come Thou Font

"Eren!" Armin called over the campus trying to catch up with the tall boy. Eren paused and waited for his smaller, blonde counterpart to catch up.

"Hey, what's up?" The smile Eren flashed was contagious.

"I caught up with Mikasa. She's over in the second year housing. She wanted to make sure we were roommates." Armin settled into a walk with his companion. The two boys had graduated from Maria Rose Academy in the spring and were now attending their first year at Sina University.

"I told her that at home a month ago you and I were rooming together..." Eren growled. "She treats me like I'm a baby..."

"She's your sister, it's her job." Armin chuckled at the look on Eren's face.

"Still." Eren sighed. "So how do you like your piano instructor?" Both boys had started with the intent to become musicians. Armin and Mikasa were both Music Majors – Eren however, had taken Liberal Arts with a Music Minor. He hadn't been the same since...

"Earth to Eren, I was asking if we still are heading to your house tonight for dinner?" Armin had stopped and was waiting for the young man to respond.

"Huh? Oh, yea. Mom's making lasagna." Snapping out of it, he forced a smile.

"Okay..."

A lot had happened in the last five and a half years. Both boys had grown up, but Eren, Eren had started taking vocal lessons and then stopped. He had also slowed on his Cello playing, to almost a stop. He'd sit in his room and listen to those old tracks – a talent lost to the wind. It worried his parents and frankly, it worried Armin and Mikasa as well. Eren had more drive than both of them combined to be great. But it seemed to fade as soon as the news of Levi Rivaille's immediate retirement after his accident. The extent of his injuries were still not clear – no one ever knew – and the master had vanished.

While the boys were in their room getting ready to drive back to Eren and Mikasa's house...Carla Jaeger was encountering – an interesting situation.

"And this is the main wing," Carla was showing the old Berlin Mansion that was on the outskirts of the small town where she and her family had lived since Eren's birth. The Mansion had sat empty for over fifty years, a true piece of art that she always felt sorry for. She was a real estate agent and when tasked with taking on the selling of this gem, she was too excited not too.

"Mr. Smith...is there anything in particular you would like to see on the grounds?" She turned with a charming smile to the tall, blonde man with whom she was meeting with. He was on business for a client he kept anonymous.

"Is there a music room?" Blue eyes were critical over the walls. They would need repair, but it would suit the buyer quite well.

"Yes, actually there is. There are still several pieces left over from the previous owner. I'm not sure if they'll ever play again, but it adds to the history of the place," She walked through the main entrance and to the left wing of the house. Sliding a door opened, they stepped into a large scaled music room, complete with a Grand Piano by a covered window and an assortment of book, stuffed shelves and other instruments in their place.

Irwin Smith walked over a faded, imported red and black rug and pressed a key down on the piano. It needed tuning, but it would do.

"I shall make an offer, Carla, you have done very well at showing the estate, and I believe my client will enjoy to make his home here."

"Really?" Carla's eyes widened, "Oh, well of course." She took the folder out from under her arm and handed it to him, still in shock. They wanted to buy? The estate was over a million dollars – in need of repair – who would waste money on a place, in a town such as this?

"Irwin, I just got off of the phone with Mike, they will be here – oh, hello." A bright-faced woman with reddish-brown hair walked forward offering her hand. "You must be Carla Jaeger. You've done such an amazing job on the sales pitch!"

"You...you're," Carla was speechless at the realization of who the woman was.

"Hanji Zoe, at your service!" The woman winked through square- rimmed glasses.

"Tell Mike, the papers are signed and the check written in full. Here you are Carla, thank you for your time. I will probably be sending for you again in the near future." Irwin turned his attention to the spunky woman at his side.

"Of course, a pleasure," Carla backed away after brief handshakes and called her boss, excited that the old property was finally off the market. Once in the car, she looked in the rear-view mirror and saw a sleek ,black BMW pull up. Curiosity got the better of her. She waited, pretending she was going through paperwork. A tall, blonde man with a clean shaven beard got out of the driver's side and walked to the back seat. Tilting her head, she became transfixed. A sleek, rich brown cane appeared and then – Carla gasped. She was so shocked she didn't notice a pair of harsh blue eyes meet hers in the mirror.

She started her car quickly and pulled back and away, stealing a peek at the black haired man who watched her leave. Once on the road, she leaned back in her seat. What was that?

Once at home, Grisha, had the steaks almost done and Mikasa, Eren, and Armin were helping set the patio table.

"Hey Mom! Dad said that you were showing the old Berlin Mansion? How did it go?" Eren was the first to hug his mother enthusiastically.

"I – ah...sold it," she smiled up at her husband. The look in her eyes conveyed 'Do I have a story for you'.

"You sold it!" A chorus erupted.

"Congratulations Mom!" Mikasa smiled happily, she knew that meant a decent cut in pay.

"Who bought it?" Armin bounced up and down. Carla hesitated, and forced a smile – those blue eyes like a warning to silence.

"A nice man purchased it for his client. I don't know who it is though, and sometimes I never know! Rich people," she joked.

"Steaks are up!" Grisha broke the awkwardness for his wife. A sudden bargaining for who got which piece broke out between the three young adults and Carla breathed a sigh of relief.

"Want to go for a walk?" Eren asked Armin. They were both laying on the trampoline outside that was hardly ever used anymore.

"A walk? Why?" Armin turned his attention from star gazing to Eren.

"We could take the shortcut we always used to take and try and see who bought that old junk house."

"...Eren...your mother said they were rich. I'm sure they're not even there yet."

"Still! It'll be for old times sake!" Eren jumped up, bouncing Armin.

The blonde boy rolled his eyes, "Ugh, fine..."

"Come on." Sea-green eyes lit up and the boys were off. The old trail was almost overtaken by brush and weeds. Armin complained a few times about ticks, but Eren waved it off. They were carrying on a conversation when Eren held an arm out.

"Shh, listen..." Eren's ears picked up on a tune he hadn't heard in years. He took off, leaving Armin stumped and hurried to follow.

"Eren!"

He didn't stop till he was at the back gate of the Mansion, which had a direct view into the music room – well it would if the window was ever – Eren's eyes widened. There was a light on, and someone, was at the piano?

"Eren what the hell?"

"Shhh! Look!" Eren pointed and Armin ducked down.

"Wow, this...hey...the yard and gardens...they're...clean?"

"So is the outside of the house," Eren squinted in the dimming twilight.

"So...they are here..." Armin mused.

"He's playing a Rivaille original! He's so good!" The silhouette had his back to them, and was still a good distance away. Eren waited, on the verge of wanting to run up to the front door and find out who it was!

The music continued, until it stopped suddenly in mid-chord and Eren saw a tall, woman? She walked over and put a hand on the man's shoulder, but he blocked her hand. She withdrew, but crossed her arms. He was confused – what was with the outburst?

The same woman looked out the window and seemed to double-take, walking closer to the glass and seemed to stare right at Armin and Eren.

"Run..." Armin tugged at Eren's sleeve and the taller boy reluctantly followed. When they were back in Eren's backyard, they paused to take in what they had just seen.

"Who was that?" Eren asked, looking to a panting Armin.

"I have no idea, but if they're rich, I don't want charges pressed for trespassing."

"You worry too much."

"Still!"

"Come on...let's get inside." Standing upright again Eren led the way back into the house. Grisha was already gone to work the late night shift at the hospital where he was a head Doctor. Carla was already gone to bed. Mikasa was on the couch watching TV. She turned when both boys walked in.

"Where were you?" Black eyes studied them.

"Just hanging out," Eren shrugged. Her eyes turned to Armin, whose baby blues could never tell a lie.

"Mhmm...sure...Just don't get into trouble..."

"We won't..." Eren rolled his eyes and opened the fridge to grab ice-cream. They retreated to the safety of Eren's room where they played video games until Eren got up and ran a hand over his Cello case.

"What is it?" Armin put down his controller.

"...The music...I haven't heard someone play like that since the concert."

"Oh...you should play again. The scholarship concert is coming up in six months. That should be enough for you to shake off the rusty."

"...Yea..." Eren picked up the ivory key with the name Levi Rivaille neatly scribed across.

"...You dreamin' again?"

"...What if...Rivaille moved into that Mansion?"

"Okay," Armin was used to Eren's dramatic ideas. "What if he did?"

"He's right there...I have to ask him, why he quit, I need to know..."

"That's his business, Eren..."

"Still! It's not fair! I'm sure he inspired so many!" Eren's stubborn face returned.

"I'm sure he did, but, is that why you quit?" Armin stood.

"...No...maybe...kinda...yes..." Eren was ashamed to admit he had wasted five years do to pouting over a man he'd met briefly. A man who made him want to do amazing things.

"That's stupid! I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted that."

"He's stupid! He's stupid for stopping! It's not fair!"

Armin sighed. He knew better than to argue with Eren. "We should head to bed."

"Yea..." Eren was still pouting, but he nodded.

That night, Eren made a deal with himself – If Rivaille was the one who moved into the Mansion – he'd play again. He'd play again, and he'd make Rivaille play

again. It was a far fetched promise, but he had to hope.