=Eren spent the next day doing nothing. It was Sunday, after all. You're supposed to be lazy all day and then realise at two am, in a panic, that you have class the next morning and haven't studied at all.
By the time Monday morning came, Eren woke to the frantic vibrating of his phone once again.
"Eren GET UP! We have class in half an hour!" came Armin's equally frantic voice from the other end.
Damn it, Eren thought. Not again.
After hurrying to gather his things and throw some clothes on, Eren ran out of his apartment and out onto the street, where he settled for a brisk walk.
It was strange, that after all the events of Saturday that he was supposed to go back to normal as if nothing had happened.
As if he hadn't met his soulmate, remembered an entire life, and been rejected on top of that.
He wasn't sure how he would face Mikasa and Armin. They knew nothing of the world they'd all lived in, since they hadn't met their soulmates yet.
He'd decided he wouldn't tell them. That was a little easier said than done. They were the only people he could truly rely on and they knew him better than anything. Maybe keeping everything that had happened hidden would be impossible if they could tell something was wrong.
Eren approached his college campus, checking the time on his phone. Phew, he was 5 minutes early for his lecture, and it was only two minutes walk.
He'd managed to arrive on time. Somehow.
Eren met Mikasa and Armin at lunchtime in a small cafe they often frequented. He'd been right; they could tell they knew something was up. It was obvious when, as they were sitting down, Mikasa asked, "Eren, is there something bothering you?"
"What? N—no." He wasn't a good liar.
"Eren, what's wrong?"
How could he tell them?
"Is it to do with your dreams?" asked Armin.
Maybe he should tell them.
Eren nodded gingerly, completely disregarding his resolve to keep everything hidden until he talked to Levi.
"Have they got worse?" Mikasa questioned.
Eren shook his head. "They aren't dreams anymore."
Both Mikasa and Armin's eyes widened. They obviously knew what that insinuated.
"Have you...?" Armin began.
"I met my soulmate," Eren said before Armin could finish. Those words, although so there were only four of them, seemed to put a storm cloud over their table.
"Really?"
"The dreams—they were snapshots, usually just of emotions I felt. Snapshots of the life we lived before... this."
"Where is your soulmate?" Mikasa asked.
"That's the thing." Eren laughed nervously. "He didn't accept me. Or he didn't accept that we were soulmates."
"Why?" Armin enquired, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. "That never usually happens."
"I remembered everything—well, nearly everything. But he—I don't think he remembered much. Told me he just saw a few images in his mind. Because of that, he didn't believe we were soulmates and dismissed me." It hurt thinking of it. How Levi could have just walked away like that, even if he barely remembered. Surely, even if he didn't remember, then he would have felt something?
Mikasa gritted her teeth. "Asshole. Maybe you're better off without him."
"No. I won't give up. I'll persist. Because, I think I actually love him. the things I felt back there, back in that place, they're still here. The fire burns just as brightly. Or even more, now."
"I trust your judgement, Eren. But please—don't hurt yourself in the process. And don't waste your time on someone who'll never care for you."
"I won't. I promise, Mikasa."
"If it's alright to ask, what was this world you lived in like?"
"It was—," Eren faltered, gripping his spoon tightly. "It was cruel. So much crueller than this one. It was different, but in some ways the same. We were all still together. Mikasa, you were still my adopted sister. Armin, you were still our best friend."
Armin smiled sadly. "I'm glad those things don't change."
"Me too," said Eren. It had been a relief to know that even in another world he still stuck with his two dearest friends.
A weight felt as if it had been lifted off of his shoulders. Honestly, Eren was glad he'd told them.
"I have an idea," said Armin, "about how we can convince your soulmate to accept you."
"Really?" Eren queried, hope beginning to bubble up inside him.
"Yes, and this is how."
Thirteen was said to be the age you were viable to meet your soulmate, or rather, to remember your previous life. It was unclear why exactly; many tests had been done, but none had proved successful.
It was not said, however, what happened if your soulmate was under that age and you were over it.
When they'd first met in this world, Levi had been fourteen.
Eren had only been ten.
It had happened on a dreary February morning. Levi had been trudging towards school—a place that he'd thoroughly despised. He'd been walking as slow as he possibly could, so as to somehow delay his arrival. Even a little bit of time was enough if it meant he could evade that hell a little longer.
He'd been young then, so young. And he'd been so hopeful. So full of life. So innocent.
Now—he didn't know. It was impossible for those things to remain under the things he'd remembered and everything that had happened since then. That part of Levi, the part that had only ever existed in this world, had died that day.
As he'd been shuffling his feet along the pavement as slow as humanly possible, he'd bumped into a kid. A wide eyed kid that looked to be about ten years old, but was near in height to Levi, who was impatiently awaiting his growth spurt (that still hadn't arrived). Levi had stood as tall as he possibly could, and looked the kid square in the eyes, ready to tell him off. But instead, when he met his green, green eyes, Levi froze on the spot.
Memories, thousands of them, flooded into his mind in a surge. If his then current memories were a river, then his past memories were a massive dam behind it. And the wall had been breached, drowning everything; drowning him.
The kid had showed no reaction, just asking, "are you okay?"
Levi hadn't replied. He'd walked straight home and sat in his room all day, thinking over every damn memory.
After that, everything had changed. Nobody had known what to do with him. He'd even been sent to a psychiatrist, but that had had no effect in the slightest.
He hadn't told them it was because he'd met his soulmate. To this day, nobody knew except for a trusted few.
Levi had sworn to himself a few years ago that he wouldn't go near Eren again, that he would leave him in his blissful ignorance forever. It was better that than to relive all the pain, cruelty, and tragedy of their previous lives. He couldn't inflict it on him.
That was why he'd stayed away—until for a moment he'd let his guard down and actually fucking walked headfirst into Eren.
It was if the planet hated him. It probably did.
Or it was some kind of fate string pulling. But Levi didn't believe in fate. Nor in destiny. It was all glorified bullshit in his opinion.
He'd thought the same about soulmates until he'd been faced with the problem of his memories. Or even, past that. He'd only actually begun to believe in soulmates when Eren had remembered. It was proof that somehow love could transcend life.
But that didn't mean he would act on it. He could still keep Eren safe, somehow. By playing the fool and hoping it would work out. That was all he could do, now.
Some defiant part of him thought, there were also beautiful moments.
Like the ones he'd spent with Eren.
But Levi ignored that side of him, in case it weakened his resolve. He wouldn't let Eren know.
He wouldn't tell him that he remembered everything.
Eren's memory dreams had not stopped, somehow. But now they were different. Now they were no longer feelings from a faraway land, forever out of his reach; they were memories of his current life.
Eren had been ten, walking towards school, when he'd bumped into a stranger.
"Sorry," Eren'd mumbled, looking up at them.
It was a boy of maybe twelve—although Eren was never good at guessing ages. He had dark hair and grey eyes reminiscent of storm-clouds and he held a school bag just like Eren did.
But those things weren't what caught his attention.
It was the look that had just come over his face, that showed mostly in his eyes. A look of horror, of terror, of dispair. And it was at something Eren could not see. That expression burned itself into Eren's mind and never left.
"Are you okay?" he'd asked, a little apprehensively.
But the boy had not responded. Instead, he turned around and walked back in the direction he'd come from.
The night after their encounter, Eren's dreams had begun.
Eren jolted awake, eyes opening wide as he gasped for air.
Levi. The boy he'd met nine years ago had been Levi.
And he'd remembered.
They said, if you met your soulmate before the age of thirteen, you wouldn't remember properly, but you might experience some small memories or just feelings. That must have been Eren's dreams.
And then, a shattering realisation came over him: Levi had been lying this entire time.
