Hi! Some notes:

1. I don't really like everything about this fic, but I love the idea so I am posting it. I will come back to this work years after and maybe I will rewrite it. Maybe.

2. The years probably are wrong and will not make sense, but let's pretend they did. As I said, I don't like everything about this fic.

3. If you have any suggestions, please do put them in the comment box. I appreciate everything. Harsh or not, I will take it. Thank you so much.

It was three in the morning and Faye is woken up by the loud banging of Petra—her orange cat. The feline was usually calm and although she heard that cats being hyperactive during this early time of the day are common, Petra was an exception to that rule.

"Petra, not now. Mommy's sleeping." She tossed and turned on her bed and covered her face with a pillow in an attempt to minimize the noise. Still, the furry little thing continued its banging and the sleepiness eventually washed away from her body.

Faye managed to get out of her bed and looked for Petra. There she was, at the foot of her door, scratching the littlest opening and wanted to be free from her own room.

"Oh, you little devil." She picked up her cat and showered it with kisses—which the feline obviously did not appreciate as it scrunched up its face and hissed at her. "I know, I know. If I let you out, you need to be quiet, okay?" She continued to baby talk Petra until they reached the main floor of their home.

She was surprised to see that the lights were still on. Then ugly thoughts like "what if there's a burglar inside our home?" started to fill her mind. Her Mama and Papa are out and the only one she's with is her Grandpa Levi. God, he's old. What if the burglar got him already?

Slowly and quietly, Faye walked to the kitchen. Petra was struggling to get out of her arms. What if the reason why Petra is so loud and pissy is that she sensed the danger?

She heard some soft rustles. Like a paper? Then there was slow breathing. She braced herself of what was coming as she slightly peeked from the corner of the kitchen and saw a familiar figure sitting on one of the chairs of their dining table.

"God, Grandpa I thought there was a burglar or something." Petra jumped out of her arms and purred next to her Grandpa. The orange feline was always the happiest whenever her Grandpa was around. Some cats just have a favorite person it seemed.

Walking closer to the old man, she noticed that he was writing a letter. Her eyes instantly traveled to the small calendar hanging on their kitchen wall. December 6th. So that explains why her Grandpa is still up and why Petra is so active.

Every year or so, exactly at this day, her Grandpa would always write letters. He would always do it in the privacy of his own room, but for the past three years, his old age started to get the best of him. He became forgetful and visibly weak. His eyesight gradually worsened every year, although he could still pinpoint the exact location of specks of dust and dirt perfectly. His hearing became weaker, and he's having a hard time walking or sometimes, even standing. But despite it all, every sixth of December he was always present and tried to appear as his best self. He insisted that his hair should be in an undercut again, his face shaved, and for the whole family to drink tea for the rest of the day.

Until he was in his early eighties, Grandpa Levi traveled back and forth to Eldia during this specific date. But Faye's mother—Gabi, insisted that he cannot travel anymore because of his old age. Yes, now she remembered. The reason why her Mama and Papa is out because the two of them shouldered the responsibility of visiting Eldia during this day. They needed to leave early so they can come back early as well.

It all made sense now. How could she forget this day? It was like a tradition of their family. Faye sighed and sat beside her Grandpa.

"Grandpa, I think you should go back to sleep." But she knew that he wasn't much of a sleeper, anyway. Did he even get a wink of sleep last night? Maybe not.

The older man did not reply. Instead, he continued writing down his letter. His hands were shaking, and he has barely written anything on the paper.

"Grandpa, do you need help?" He grunted and she wondered if the old man was even aware that she was here beside him.

Petra jumped on top of the table and Faye's attention drifted to the pile of letters. There were thirty? Forty? Fifty of them? She didn't know, but she had the sudden urge to pick up one and open it.

Grandpa Levi was never careless. All the letters, like what their family knew, were written every year at this exact date. She didn't know what was so special about this day. For her, however, the date was close to her heart because her little Petra was born on this day. She gasped when she realized this fact. "Oh! Oh, baby. It's your birthday!" She smiled fondly at her cat who is now rubbing her head to her Grandpa's forearm.

Then as if on cue, the urge to read the letter on her hand became stronger, peeking one last time to her Grandpa to make sure he didn't notice, she slowly opened the letter.

859

To You,

Happy Birthday. You are supposed to be 27 today. I'm turning 40 in a few weeks. I hope you are well wherever you are. I miss your tea every day. I miss y. I miss the squad. And everyone. Happy Birthday.

C. Levi.

859. She wasn't even born. Her Mama and Papa were still young that year. Who was the recipient of this letter?

Faye caressed the paper, only the year written was the proof that it was old because it was well kept through the years. The words "I miss y" were scribbled. A mistake, maybe?

She folded the letter and placed it on the table. With all the other letters in front of her, she was tempted to read another one. So, she did.

864

To You,

Happy Birthday. You are supposed to be 32 today. I'm turning 45. Fuck. I'm really old. How are you doing there? Maybe you heard the news. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for that day. I hope you and your father meet each other again wherever you are. I'm sorry. Happy Birthday.

C. Levi.

She was lost. The letters didn't make sense for her. There were no names. There was no clear indication of what relationship her Grandpa and the recipient has. Could it be for a lover back in Eldia? Or a friend somewhere? But she knew that the only family her Grandpa have was them and his other 'brats' in Eldia. But 864…and the recipient was supposedly 32. It couldn't be them. Her Uncle Armin and the others are still young that year.

She folded the letter again. Petra was now sleeping next to her Grandpa and her Grandpa was still writing his letter. "Grandpa, do you mind if I ask you something?" His hands trembled as he tried putting words on the paper. "For whom are these letters for?"

Once again, he didn't mind her. And so, she decided to find out herself. Out of all the letters, there was a single piece that was inside an envelope. She took it and found two letters inside.

866

To You,

Happy Birthday.

C. Levi.

Huh. She flipped the page, turned it upside-down, but there was nothing more. It was a clean white paper with only those words written. Faye moved on with the second letter inside the envelope.

If the first letter was almost empty, then the second letter was empty of space. A complete contrast.

866

To my Petra,

Happy Birthday. I bullshit the first letter. Sorry bout that.

Listen. There was a wedding today. Fancy cakes and shits. You know them. I picked a suit that was a little fancy. The Marleyans are too damn pissy about this kind of thing. I'm still living with the two brats and now they're marrying each other. Every fucking year I feel so old. And so fucking tired. But I don't want to bitch on your birthday letter. And I guess you were always watching me from wherever you are anyway. I know you are watching because sometimes I could smell your hair. And Falco, that soft boy, he was always complaining about the orange strands of hair on my pillows. That was unfair. I needed more than just a strand of your hair. You could've shown yourself to me.

About the wedding…I saw the kids from Paradis again. Not kids anymore. So fucking tall. And I'm proud of them. Armin and Annie…they're married now. They have twins. I know you forgive Annie already. She apologized to me after the war…But there was no other choice but to forgive. Forgive or not, you're still not coming back to me. Connie has a woman and a daughter who was named after Sasha. Jean, that hopeless kid. Not hopeless anymore. He's married, but with Pieck. No kid yet, but he said they're trying every night. I didn't need him to share the details of his fucking sex life with an old man like me. And that little midget, Historia…she's still leading Paradis. Her daughter reminds me of you. She's one of the boys. And Mikasa…she's smiling now. Not so gloomy. Every now and then, she visits here. Still no husband. And obviously, still no kid.

It's been nine years after that war. But still, I'm fighting. What a fucking asshole am I, right? So obsessed with my title. But it would be easier to fight titans. The war I'm fighting for the last years was between my stubborn self and everything. Watching those brats, I realized how happy they are. I realized that it was really over. They settled. They have kids. They are happy. But Petra, I'm still here. I am not as happy as them because I realized how fucking coward I was. You're dead. The titans are dead. But I can't even admit that I love you. Now, I did. You know now. It took me years to admit it. Fuck.

I'm saying that I want to settle too. Like what the brats did. But I don't want to marry unless it's you. I can't feel this way again for others. Not because I'm afraid to love or anything. That is just bullshit. No one's stopping me now if I want to feel those fancy emotions. I just want you to know that I'll be waiting until I get there to wherever you are. You waited years for me to say these shits I'm talking about, then let me wait for years as well. I'm coming. I'm going to wherever you are. Just wait. There are still—

Faye gasped when Petra jumped on the letter. Her Grandpa Levi noticed her now and she hurriedly slipped the letter again inside the envelope.

"Grandpa, I'm sorry I open—"

"It's her birthday," he said weakly.

Her. Petra's birthday. Not her cat, but the person who was supposed to receive the letters. Faye didn't know anything about this person. Her parents never once mentioned the name to her. Well, they did. But only when they addressed her orange cat. And come to think of it, didn't it was her Grandpa who named her cat?

All this time, there were clues. She wanted to know more. She wanted to read all of the letters. Should she write one too? Either way, she pushed all the thoughts at the back of her mind. She would deal with them later.

"Yes, Grandpa," she smiled, "It's her birthday."