"Do you never button your shirt properly?"
Eren tries to not let out a groan. Barely a week into the State Music Program, and he's gotten himself onto someone's bad side. And he wasn't even trying!
Of all people, Historia turns out to be the first violinist. Right now they both sat inside the chairs of the local laundromat, having just paid a pretty penny to have her uniform cleaned.
"Why do you care?" He asks, bewildered by her naggy, condescending attitude. Eren doesn't think he's ever met someone as stuck up as she was. She fits the preppy rich girl stereotype to a tee, with her perfect makeup and her haughty demeanor towards anything that doesn't match her standards. "Isn't musical ability more important than how one dresses when I come here?"
"I don't care," she replies. "I'm just shocked that the coaches haven't noticed already."
"Case in point?"
"It's just...where I attend school it is a big deal. Worrying about it is just part of my education."
"Well, it's one less thing to worry about now, thankfully."
Historia doesn't humor him, and while Eren expects it, it still stings a little to hear her speak it. She also seems to be constantly on her toes, either twiddling her fingers or tapping her foot.
"Is something wrong?"
"Nothing?" Historia snaps with a scowl. "What? I'm not going to give you that much of a hard time, am I? You don't need to worry, I don't like to hold grudges."
"You're real anxious about seating recitals, huh."
It's obvious. Everyone in the camp treats it like it's a matter of life and death. Which, in a way, it was. Their camp's competing nationwide with other state orchestras, and the winning camp will be awarded not only prestige and honor but also a couple thousand dollars in scholarships for each of it's members. Plus it looks great on their college recommendation letter, not that getting admitted into the camp isn't impressive enough already.
Eren thinks he's a rather good trumpeter: he's been playing ever since he was able to pick one up. He doesn't mind staying fourth in his section seating, and the other trumpeters don't really care about seating either, but he's well aware that first chair violinist is a revered and coveted position. Their auditions are in 3 weeks: just enough time to learn and master the material they were given.
Historia lets out a sigh. "It's just...I don't know if I can keep my position," she confesses. "I'm not losing it to the bitch next to me, for sure."
Eren nods in understanding. Their string players are a particularly vicious bunch, almost animalistic in their feverish competition for each other. Historia was only placed first already because of her performance in the entrance recitals; it wasn't a permanent position.
So far, Historia's been nothing but cold and condescending towards him. He had every reason to be resentful of her. And yet...he can't help but feel sorry for her. He didn't like seeing her so worried.
"Hey, I've heard you play. I think you're ridiculously talented."
Much to his surprise, Historia's eyes widen in shock; maybe added disbelief, at his words. Eren fights the urge to chuckle. Does this girl really underestimate her talent that much? "You're lucky to be where you're at," he added. "And I'm sure that even if you don't get first chair, you'll still do fine."
Historia shakes her head. "I don't have a choice but to make it. If I'm not first chair...I'm not going to this camp anymore. M-my father insisted."
"Jesus, really? Why's that?"
"It's because that's how much he asks of me," Historia replies. "That's just how he's always been, since...gosh, why am I telling you this, anyway?"
"Is there a reason why you shouldn't be?" Eren asks. "Seriously, I'm paying the fee for the cleaning, and I said I was sorry…"
Historia finally looks up at him, her striking cerulean orbs meeting his for the first time not with contempt or anger, but with fear and familiar desperation in her eyes. And it's in that moment, Eren realizes, that what this girl was seeking at the moment was more than just clean clothes. It's something he's sought once before, and it was something that couldn't be earned, but given.
"You're right," she sighs, clearly hesitant, before beginning. "My father, as you probably know, is a pretty influential guy…"
"Your father?"
"Yeah...Rod Reiss? I thought practically everyone knew?"
"...You're bullshitting me, aren't you?" Then Eren notices her nametag again, and it finally clicks with him. "OH. That explains...a lot, actually."
Historia laughs, a high, hearty sound, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're such an idiot."
But the way she says it doesn't sound like an insult at all. She's teasing him, like Armin would and even Mikasa would sometimes. And in that moment Eren wonders if spilling coffee on her might've been a blessing in disguise.
"What if this doesn't go well?"
Eren leaned back into the driver's seat. It hadn't been a long drive to get to Frieda's home, and even if it had, he wouldn't have minded. He'd spent a month in therapy just to be able to stand, and thankfully it hadn't been his right leg which he lost. Now, he had a newfound appreciation of his ability to still drive.
The elder Reiss lived in the upper west area of Shiganshina, at an apartment complex considerably more spacious and glamorous than Eren's townhouse. The towering red brick building, lined with fresh trimmed bushes and noticably cleaner than any of the other buildings surrounding it, seemed to grow taller and taller as they drove toward it into the lot.
"Why wouldn't it go well?" Eren asked while scanning the lot for an empty spot. "You said you've met a few times and was willing to let you stay."
"Apparently she used to babysit for my birth mother, but she hasn't seen me since I was eight." Historia sighed, eyes cast downward. Her mouth hadn't budged from its worried frown ever since they'd left his home. "What if she was sounding nice just to, well, sound nice? She might let my father know. It could all be a trap."
"You said she hadn't spoken to your father in years," Eren said. "Why worry now?"
"My father has many connections with people who are able to shell out money to get him what he wants." There was fear laced in Historia's words, and Eren had to force himself to hide his anger at what her father had done to her. "What if he paid her to lie and bring me back?"
Eren couldn't immediately give her an answer. Over the years, there'd been a few rumors and lawsuits that had faded in and out of news surrounding Rod Reiss regarding some business deals he'd made in the past, all which had either been dismissed or had a hung trial. It was odd that one man could undergo so much drama while coming out virtually unscathed, but that was to be expected in politics. Rod Reiss continued to reassure his supporters that he was indeed a man of the people, and he had a fairly loyal following among other lobbyists who pushed him to put out policies that benefited the corporations they worked for, and the ignorant, misinformed demographic they supported.
But at the moment, Eren recognized that Historia needed some hope more than anything. And so there was only one thing he could say that came to mind. "Just focus on the here and now. If you don't go, you'll never know. And if things go wrong, I will fight tooth and nail to make sure you're somewhere safe, alright?"
Historia paused, then after a moment's deliberation, she nodded. "Alright".
They parked and walked into the building, where a gust of warm, conditioned air hit them. The interior was decorated modestly, not unlike the hospital Eren had left earlier that day. They spoke with the concierge at the front desk, who directed them towards the elevators behind her. Noticing that Historia still looked uneasy, he took her hand. Her eyes widened, and he returned her surprise with a soft smile. He'd shaved his facial hair and pulled his hair back in a manbun. He briefly touched the front of his now neated bangs.
"You look good," Historia said, noticing his gesture. "The ponytail suits you. Gives me the skater vibe, but sexier."
"Thanks." Eren grinned. "You don't look bad yourself."
Historia blushed. She just tightened her grip on his hand as the elevator delivered them up to the eleventh floor, as Frieda had stated in her phone call to her. It was only when they reached the numbered room they were looking for that Historia let go of his hand, and with a deep breath, rung the doorbell.
A young woman with bright, pretty eyes as large and round as her father's, but filled with warmth where his had none. The resemblance between them was uncanny, except her bangs were parted in the middle and her hair was as black as ink. And she had to be at least six feet tall. Senator Reiss looked to be a rather stout man, from the photos he'd seen of him, but Frieda was a giant of a woman, even compared to Eren. She dwarfed him by at least 4 inches.
"Hey Frieda," Historia greeted shyly. "I'm so sorry we had to meet like this. If I had more money I'd had loved to take you out, but since Dad froze my debit card..."
Frieda gasped. "Oh my gosh." Without warning, she pounced onto Historia and embraced her. Her long, large arms enveloped her sister's tiny body. Judging by Historia's "AAH!" and her shocked expression, Frieda could give a mean bear hug. "Oh my gosh," Frieda gasped again, and for a moment Eren thought she might burst into tears. "You're so big now. You grew up so fast."
"It's really nice to see you again, yeah," Historia breathed, her voice muffled while trapped in Frieda's grip. Despite what must have been an uncomfortable position to be in, she finally seemed to be relaxed and at peace. "Even though, I hate to admit, I don't really remember you at all."
"Oh, it's no problem," Frieda said, wiping a tear from her eye. Once she released Historia from her grasp, she beckoned them inside. "You and your friend, come in ! I have food if you're hungry."
Eren held open the door for her as she stepped into the house. Despite the otherwise modern aesthetic of the house, it had a warm, pleasant atmosphere, aided by the faintest scent of cinnamon candles.
"So…you're the Paulie Bleeker, aren't you?" the older woman asked in a sharp tone, as if she were a teacher questioning a student."
"Yeah…yes ma'am." Eren replied, and then slapped himself mentally for calling her that.
Frieda rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't you ma'am me. So, Historia told me...orchestra camp? Really? I'd thought nothing would be able to get past Rod Reiss's brainwashing."
"Frieda…" Historia blushed a beet red.
Eren felt his cheeks warm as he grinned. "It wasn't easy. Historia was pretty distant to me at first."
"It honestly runs in the family," Frieda said with a sigh.
"Is Rod Reiss really that much of a jerk?" Eren asked. The idea that anyone could be so cruel and controlling was incredibly foreign to him.
"I left home when I was eighteen." Frieda explained, her smile morphing into a frown as she recalled a memory she clearly wished to put behind her. "That man threatened to send me to conversion therapy after he found me with a girl in my room."
"What about your mother? Your siblings?"
Frieda shook her head, her anger giving way to sadness. "Mother wasn't much better to be honest. Both my parents blamed each other for my "issues". My little brothers were too young to really do anything but agree. I'm not that angry with them. I still think about them a lot, even all these years later…" Her expression of melancholy quickly morphed into a furious snarl. "And to think that he had the guts to fucking beat you?"
"Frieda—"
"Historia, sweetheart, how are you perfectly okay with him getting away with this?"
"Because he can't threaten me anymore. The bruises I got? They're healed now, but before they did I took pictures of my face and sent a few of them to him as proof. Threatened to release them to the public if he tried going after me."
"Wait, hold on, hold on. He fucking beat you and you're just letting it slide?"
"I pity him, Frieda," Historia explained. He was drunk when he did that, and he'd been drinking for a long time. No that doesn't justify any of the bullshit he did to the both of us but I can't help but feel sorry for him. I'm punishing him anyway by leaving him miserable and alone, unless he finds some other bitch to knock up and ruin."
There was an assertiveness in Historia that Eren hadn't ever seen before. A confidence not unlike one he'd had so long ago. He'd seen hints of it when they'd first met, long before they became friends.
"He misses you, Frieda," she added. "He hasn't forgotten about you."
Frieda sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple in frustration. "Fine. But we're going to have to contact the high school, who will probably alert Father, which will probably lead him-"
"Here, I know." Historia said. "But we'll face that when the time comes."
Frieda sighed, but nodded in agreement. "And if the need arises, we'll give him hell. Well, hon, no offense, but you really look like you need a shower. Now. I want to speak with Eren alone for a minute anway."
Eren barely managed to contain his nervousness. Although the older Reiss had shown nothing but a kind and welcoming demeanor so far, he had no idea how she would react to him...especially considering she'd probably already suspected what his relationship to Historia was. He'd been yelled at his mother far too many times in his life, but something about Frieda made him dread the idea of seeing her in rage.
"Bathroom's just down the hallway, last door on the left. Clothes are already in the plastic bag on the counter. They should fit you," Frieda said.
"Thank you so much," Historia replied, smiling, and Eren thought she might tear up with joy at the relief that she would no longer have to worry for her future, for now at least.
She made her way down the hall, leaving the two of them standing alone in the living room.
"Let's sit, Eren." Frieda motioned to the large leather sofa in the living room, positioned right in front of an enormous flat screen.
Eren walked over and sat down. The seats were extremely comfortable and warmer than he'd expected. No thanks to electric heating, probably. Frieda sat at his right, giving him just enough space to not feel uncomfortable.
"So…" Frieda began. "Part of me should thank you, I guess, though part of me should also want to punch you in the face."
"Are you going to?"
Frieda chuckled. "Hey, I'm not really mad at all. You're a good guy, I can tell. I haven't seen Historia since she was eight and still living with her shithead of a mother. I'd always wished I could've been the one to adopt her when her mother overdosed...still, Historia's lucky to have you."
"Oh, um… we're not…"
"Oh, you're not? Well, then you're even more of a good guy for stepping up and taking responsibility. But I'm assuming you're more than strangers, no?"
"Yeah."
"By the way, you doing alright? I know it must be a sore subject, but what happened is kinda the talk of the town…"
"Yeah. And don't worry, I'm doing alright."
"If you need to talk about it with someone, I'm all ears. Historia too."
"How do you know?"
"She was super nervous about coming to visit you. She didn't want to burden you with anything, you have enough dealing with her as it is. And I'm sure it's going to affect her choice on whether or not she wants to keep the baby."
"Do you know if she does?"
"I don't, but I'm willing to support her with any choice she makes. What I don't want is for anything you're dealing with to affect that choice."
It'll give you something to keep your mind off of, well…
"That's not gonna happen." Eren nodded. "
"I'll talk with her once she settles down. Maybe over the weekend, after I talk to my parents about it."
"Good luck with that, man."
Eren noticed the clock on the wall. He knew he couldn't stay any longer. "I should probably go, my parents will need me home. Historia has my new number: use that if you need to text me."
"You're not going to say goodbye to Historia?" Frieda got up and gestured toward the kitchen. "You should stick around. We have enough of food for all of us."
"It's alright." Eren shook his head. "She knows I can't stay for long anyway."
"Well, goodbye then," Frieda said as Eren made his way to the door. He put on his shoes.
"See you, Frieda. And thank you for not being an asshole like you Dad. Historia definitely doesn't need anyone else like him in her life." Eren closed the door behind him. Historia was in good hands, he thought. Whatever things she needed, it probably wouldn't require much from him, and he was fine with that.
Either way, he was probably going to be more of a burden to her than she ever would be to him.
It was as if they'd been zapped by a freeze ray.
It would've been far more nerve wracking explaining it all to his parents if Mikasa and Armin hadn't volunteered to stay. They clearly knew he wanted some much needed emotional support.
When he'd finished, what followed seemed like the longest and most awkward silence he'd ever had during a conversation with his parents. They didn't say anything, they just gaped at him as if they had forgotten how to speak. Until...
"Eren...I just want to let you know that I'm glad you told us this upfront, and didn't tried to hide this from us."
"And...well," Grisha interrupted, "To be honest, I'm not surprised."
"What do you mean?" Eren said. On his right, Mikasa stood and took his hand, while Armin stood on his left, ready to take his other hand if need be, because he was a good friend who didn't care if it was commonly seen as a romantic gesture or not. Nothing could stop them from supporting him, even if he tried.
"Y-You see…" Grisha suddenly grinned widely, stuttering as if he were trying to contain a laugh. "You weren't exactly planned either…"
"Grisha!" Carla said angrily. "How can you treat this as funny?"
"Carla, I know you're mad, but—"
"You got an A in sex ed, Eren!" Carla shrieked, which caused Armin to let out a poorly concealed chuckle. "Your only A that year, as I recall, besides band."
Eren rolled his eyes. "I already told you, it wasn't like we werent careful. The condom must've broke."
"It's your mother's fault for that," Grisha said. "You must've gotten your stamina from her."
"THE KIDS ARE HERE, GRISHA."
Mikasa and Armin doubled over, both in total hysterics, which only made Eren feel worse. He scratched his jaw, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.
Carla gave her husband a murderous glare. "How on earth are you joking at a time like this?"
She shook her head. Grisha just shrugged his shoulder. "Well, shouting at him angrily isn't going to help the situation one bit. But we'll punish him of course: no Xbox for a month, for a start. And you're grounded as well, unless you tell us exactly what you wish to do. Mikasa, Armin, you two are still allowed to visit as much and as long you want."
"Thanks, Grisha." Armin said as Eren sighed in relief that he would live to see another day.
"As for the girl…goodness. I knew voting against him every year was the right thing to do," Grisha said.
"This girl...Historia, is making a huge mistake," Carla said. "As a pretty good lawyer, I could easily help her start a domestic abuse lawsuit against him, if she's willing."
"I will," Eren said. "But i doubt she'll accept it."
"Just let her know we're willing to help too. Perhaps the only thing good that's come out of this mess is that she's finally away from that man."
"Do you know if she's keeping it?" Grisha asked.
"No...I honestly don't."
"Whatever the case, she'll still be under her father's health insurance. I'll pull a few strings if she visits me. No charge."
"Thanks, Dad."
It was moments like those when Eren realized that, his parents truly understood him and what he needed. That didn't mean they were perfect, of course, but they couldn't have reacted more perfectly to his news. And for him, that was enough.
"Well...that wasn't the dumpster fire I'd expected. Not that I'm complaining, of course."
Eren closed the front door behind him as he stepped out onto the porch. It was nine in the afternoon, and, with their bellies filled with his mother's cooking, time for his friends to head home. Both of them lived close enough to walk to their houses alone, but Eren decided to join them anyway. He'd felt like he needed some fresh air, feeling constrained even though he had just lifted something quite big off his chest.
Mikasa smirked. "If things had gone south, I was prepared to fistfight Carla for you. It would've been the only way you could've survived."
"If it were me in your shoes, Gramps would've shot me on the spot." Armin said. "Given that he hasn't gone hunting in months, he's pretty trigger happy now."
Eren chuckled. He could always rely on his friends for offering some much needed levity after a stressful situation. He knew how intimidating his parents could be, even though they'd all known each other since he was in diapers. "That is if Annie doesn't beat him to it."
Armin smirked. "Thankfully we haven't had to risk that yet."
"Wait," Eren said. "Did you just admit you're still a virgin?"
Armin froze in place, lifting an eyebrow. "...Yeah?"
"Dude, what the heck?" Eren gasped in mock astonishment. He shook his head. "It's been over a year, man. Are you, like, ace or something? Does Annie know what she'd signed up for?"
"You've got to be kidding me." Armin glared at him, though he looked more annoyed than furious. Eren laughed. Teasing Armin never got old. "We're just ready yet," his friend continued. "And I'm not exactly looking forward to having to worry about the risks considering what you're dealing with now."
"Yeah yeah, good point," Eren said with a sigh. Both Armin and Annie had taken eons to get together, despite the fact that they'd both held feelings for each other since freshman year. Armin in particular was keen about taking things slowly, given that despite his superb intellect and his flawless grades, he knew next to nothing about pleasing girls. Which was fitting, he guessed, since Annie was far from a normal girl.
"It's alright," Armin assured as they finally made it to the front of his little ranch style home. The lights were all off, signifying that his grandfather was probably already asleep.
As he walked up to his front door, Armin turned back to his friends. "Hey, I just wanna wish you luck, alright? We're here for you. Don't forget that."
"I won't," Eren replied. "See you later bud."
"Goodnight, Armin." Mikasa waved goodbye.
"Night." Armin waved back as he shut the door.
Her house; where she lived with Levi: her father's cousin and closest living relative—was only five minutes away. For a while, they didn't say a word to each other as they walked, the crickets chirping under a starry fall sky.
But when they finally reached the brick red townhouse, and when Mikasa touched the front door's knob, she paused. Then turned around to face Eren.
"Eren…"
"Yeah?"
Mikasa stopped right in her tracks. "I just wanted you to know…You're special to me. To a lot of people. To think that you could forget that…"
"I'm sorry." Eren couldn't imagine what his...incident had done to her emotionally. He didn't want to dwell on it, but he knew that he had to make it up to her somehow. "I am so so sorry for all the hurt I must have caused you."
"It's alright," Mikasa said. "That's all I needed to hear. I promised myself I would forgive you even if you didn't feel sorry. And I do."
"She said those words with a smile, and then turned around and walked to her home without looking back, leaving Eren completely alone.
But he didn't want to walk home just yet. The local elementary school, or more specifically, its playground, was only a few minutes away. It was a warm night, warmer than was expected during fall, which only made it even more of a unmissable opportunity.
He walked past the green chain link fence, opened the gate, and walked over to the little teeter totter that was placed close by. It had been recently spray painted with a fresh, clean coat of black which gave the ancient thing new life. But to him it was still the same great place where he could just sit, think, and relish the night air.
He let it all sink in. Pregnant. Living with her sister. A baby.
I'm going to be a father.
Well, assuming that an abortion wasn't in the plan. He hadn't bothered to ask Historia about her decision, given how stressed out she seemed to be, and he didn't want to put give her any more immediate pressure. Still, the possibility both filled him with a strange excitement and a unnerving terror. Was he even able to involve himself in someone else's life to that extent? Did he even care for Historia enough to make that commitment? He'd sworn to support whatever decision she made...but there were still bits of lingering doubt remaining, like needles picking into his mind.
He decided to remove his prosthetic (although he kept his shrinker sock on), and put it beside him while he pushed himself up and down on the teeter totter with his remaining foot. Though the lifting feeling was no longer as exhilarating, given his age and that he was far too big to sit on it comfortably, it gave him a semblance of thrills he hadn't experienced since he was a kid. And it helped him clear the clutter in his head.
He had never been great at making friends while growing up, besides the ones he'd known since he could walk and talk. He was nowhere near the most popular kid at his school. He'd made mistakes that cost the lives of two good people he cared for. He'd paid greatly for it.
And now he'd ruined another life. Again. It was his fault Historia had been kicked out of her home, even though she held no love towards her father. But this time...he could do something to heal the hurt. He could be the best friend he could for Historia, offer whatever emotional support he could give for her during this time. To lend an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and if need be, the best father he could be while he keeping his secrets at bay as well. Given recent events, she would eventually pester him about the accident, the temptation would be greater than ever before.
But that sure as hell wasn't gonna stop him, was it?