Levi walked along the dark icy sidewalk with his head down against the freezing, driving sleet. He had neither gloves nor hat and the sleet was relentless, ticking against his well-worn leather jacket, soaking his collar and hair. He huddled down deeper into his coat, stepping gingerly over the frosty sidewalk, watching for black ice.
He passed a brightly lit cafe and, and when the door was opened, disgorging a cuddling couple with coffees in hand, he basked in the millisecond of warmth and politely sidestepped the content couple. They ignored him. He tried not to but he couldn't help but look into the big windows at the people inside the cafe. They all looked safe, warm, and happy, drinking their steaming drinks and nibbling on various pastries and sandwiches. His stomach growled at the sight and he slowly passed by, head turned, as if memorizing the cozy sight, speeding up as he got to the darker sidewalk beyond.
He hunched down again, walking as fast as was safe. He had somewhere important to get to and little time to get there. Someone was depending on him.
Eren and Jean were in the lowest of the lowest dive bar that sat between South Wall Community College and their apartment. Both were shit-faced.
"He doesn't love me, I tell ya," Eren said, gesturing unsteadily. "My dad doesn't love me."
Jean shook his head immediately, "Not true, Bro. Look at all the shit he buys for you! I never had that shit!"
"Your sichi … sichoo-uh … situation is different, Man."
Jean was silent. Jean had no dad, or didn't know where he was, anyway, and had been raised by his mom, alone, for most of his life. He stared morosely into his beer. "I just think you need to be more grateful."
"Grateful for what?! Grateful for a shitty car? Grateful for my shitty college?"
"The rest of us had to work to get all that," Jean pointed out quietly, reasonably.
Eren subsided. Jean was right. He had no right to talk. His fucking dad, though. Never there, always judgemental and dismissive when he was.
Eren sipped at his last beer—he was out of money and would have to reluctantly leave soon—and stewed in silence.
Chapter 1 - "Daddy's Boy"Eren stood, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. Blood dripped down his chin from a cut on his lip and a bruise bloomed on one cheek. A cold wind blew across the campus, ruffling his sweat-damp hair, and someone was tugging on his arm.
"C'mon, man. It's over. Let it go."
Eren blinked as his fury ebbed away. He focussed on Jean. What was he saying?
"Let's get out of here, dude. Before someone calls the cops."
Reiner was getting painfully up from the ground. He gingerly spat blood into the grass then probed his swollen jaw. "Yeah, Eren, just run away."
Eren felt his temper flare again, white-hot, and felt Jean's grip on his arm tighten. The small crowd of people around them pressed in.
"Dude, Eren, c'mon!" Jean said urgently. Several people were filming with their phones.
Armin ran up, out of breath and disheveled. "What the heck, guys?" He stooped to pick up Eren's coat which had been abandoned on the ground and absently brushed the withered grass off of it.
Jean gestured at Reiner and shrugged.
Armin sighed. "What was it this time?"
"Called him a 'Daddy's Boy.'"
"Oh, jeez."
Eren stepped then toward Reiner, dragging Jean along, causing him to have to hold on tighter and prompting Armin to take his other arm. "I'll go, you fucker, but if you ever call me that again, you're gonna pay."
"Yeah, yeah," Reiner said, turning away.
Jean and Armin dragged Eren off.
Later, at the apartment that they shared, Eren and Jean were drinking beer and Armin was getting ready for work.
"I was right!." Eren insisted.
"No, dude, you were wrong. So what if that testosterone-laden clown called you a name? You gotta think about your school career."
Eren scoffed and downed his beer.
"Reiner's been calling you names since elementary school," Armin pointed out.
"Yeah, and I've kicked his ass every time!"
Jean and Armin were tactfully silent—Eren had won most of the fights but not even close to all.
"It's just not worth it," Armin said, shrugging on his jacket.
"I agree," Jean said.
"It's the principle of the thing!"
Armin sighed. "Eren, there is no principle. Just ignore him."
Eren got up in a huff and went to get himself another beer.
"He's never gonna learn," Jean said.
"He must. He's an adult now."
"I thought you were my friends!" Eren yelled from the kitchen.
"I'm out," said Armin, walking to the front door. "Good luck with him."
Jean nodded morosely.
The next morning, early, Jean and Armin were already at school and Eren, who didn't have an early class, was dicking around, procrastinating, flipping through the channels on the Roku. A knock sounded on the door and Eren startled. No one ever knocked on his door but his mom. All his friends just walked in. He got off the couch, curious, and crossed the room. Maybe it was one of his neighbors. As he went, he tried valiantly to even remember who his neighbors were. He knew there was an old couple and a mom with kids and … He opened the door and went still. A uniformed police officer stood there. Eren's jaw dropped. He had no idea what to do. He'd never talked to a cop in his life. He suddenly wished he could call his mom.
"Off-officer?"
"Are you Eren Yeager?"
Eren swallowed. "Yes." He sounded very small and meek and he hated it.
"I need to ask you a few questions about an incident that happened yesterday on the grounds of South Wall Community College."
Eren shifted from foot to foot but remained silent. 'Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law,' right?
"May I come in?"
Eren was taken aback. Was this normal? On the one hand, he didn't want the cops in his place. On the other, he didn't want anyone to see him being questioned by the police or of being regarded as 'combative.' "Of, course … uh, come in."
The officer advanced into the apartment, looking keenly around as he came. Eren gestured to the sagging couch and the officer gingerly sat. Eren took the chair.
The man consulted his small notepad. "Where were you at about four PM on February 8th … yesterday?"
"At … at school."
"You are enrolled at South Wall Community College?"
"Yessir."
The man eyeballed Eren sternly. "Did you get into an altercation with"—he consulted his notepad—"a Reiner Braun at that time?"
For a brief frenzied moment, Eren thought about lying but he realized that it would only make things worse. He swallowed again, his dry throat making a clicking noise. "Yessir. I guess …"
"You guess?"
"He was insulting me and I … well, we fought."
The officer wrote diligently in his notepad. "Did you instigate the fight?"
"Nossir! He started it! He was calling me names."
"Who won the fight?" The officer tilted his head like a dog, questioningly.
Eren scrubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I did. I put him on the ground …"
"Was Mr. Braun's life in any danger at any point? Was he afraid?"
"Seriously? Have you seen him? He's like six feet and solid muscle! And he talked shit the entire time!"
The officer nodded then and made notes in his book.
"And how tall are you, Mr. Yeager? How much do you weigh?"
"I'm … uh, 5'10" and about 160 pounds."
More notes. Reiner stood 6'1" and weighed at least 220.
Eren gathered himself up. He knew very little about the law but he had access to the internet. "Am I being charged with a crime?"
The man responded smoothly, putting his notebook and pencil up. "No Sir, Mr. Yeager. Not at this time. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."
Eren fidgeted. "So … what now?"
"Just remain available, Mr. Yeager. In case we have any more questions." The officer stood. Eren trailed him to the door and closed it softly behind him. The school must have called the police. If Reiner had actually filed a complaint—and Eren didn't think he would have—then he would have had to do more than just answer questions. He ran a hand through his hair. Jesus.
Shit hit the fan the next day. Eren's mom, Carla, requested a zoom call in the afternoon after he got off of school. Eren, taken unaware, attended. As soon as his mom got on the call she apologized.
"Sorry to spring this on you, honey, but your dad …"
Eren's father, Grisha, loomed into the frame. Eren actually sat back. Grisha never contacted him over zoom. He was barely there when Eren went home. Their only communication, essentially, was brief, cross texts telling Eren what was 'expected of him.'
"Eren." Grisha wasn't one to beat around the bush. "What's this about you assaulting another student?"
Shit!
"What makes you think that?"
"I'm not a fool, Eren. One of my friends from college works at the police station."
"Is-isn't that against the law? To reveal that info?"
Grisha brushed that aside. "Now, I've pulled some strings to make sure you're not charged this time but I swear to god, Eren, I am sick of this bull!"
"Calm down, dad."
Grisha's voice rose to a thunder. "Don't you tell me to calm down! I didn't raise you this way! I'll not have a son of mine who is a common criminal!"
"Grisha, darling …" Carla put her hand on her husband's arm.
Eren snapped. "You didn't fucking raise me, dad! It was mom! All mom! And I'm not a common criminal! It was just a fight and Reiner started it!"
"Boys, boys, let's all just—"
"No mom!" Eren punched his finger at his laptop screen. "You can't talk to me that way, dad!"
"I can and I will talk to you this way! First all that gay crap and now this! If I ever hear of anything else like this I will cut you off financially! I will not pay for a son who can't keep his temper in check!"
"That's rich, coming from you!"
"Grisha …"
"I am not having this conversation." Grisha stood and walked off screen.
Carla sighed, staring down at her lap. Eren waited anxiously. After a moment she looked up to the screen. "Eren, honey, all I ask is that you try. Try not to make your father angry."
"He's always angry," Eren muttered.