A/N: Hello to everyone still reading this! Hope you are doing well. Since this chapter is named after Uncle Vanya, which is a stage play, I kind of split it in three acts. It's cool that way!
To the guest reviewer who asked whether or not everyone in this fanfic is gay, I was thinking about it more in the lines of 'cool raging bi like in ancient Rome.' I dunno man, it's complicated.
On a more serious note PLEASE READ THIS! THIS CHAPTER IS IN THE VERY LEAST PROBLEMATIC! They don't represent my current opinions on what I consider acceptable, but the characters'. This chap includes mild mild mild allusions to suicide, references to Lolita, and toxic behavior in a relationship. Nothing too extreme though, don't worry, Mikasa has been through worst in canon. In my humble opinion, to be a flawed character acting irrational it's part of the human nature!
Anyway have fun reading! Kisses!
Act One, Last Summer, there, Mikasa.
It was another afternoon that invited the residents to a lazy way of living. The middle of a hot August brought cool breezes and none of the three teenagers were in a rush to get home. In truth, life was far more interesting there, where they were allowed to be imperfect, drunk, happy, promiscuous, surrounded by good music and generous bartenders.
The change of scenery was very well received, especially by Armin. On the first week, he insisted capturing every street and corner shop on film. And neither Eren nor Mikasa could blame him. Last summer, they felt as if they have stepped through a portal into another world.
Every place was unique and had its own personality and clientele. You could be a hippie, a biker or just looking for some fun, and guaranteed there had spot for your tastes: ' Forget me not' went really vintage and played swing music, 30's and 40's hits and even had their own live bad, whereas 'Mandala' had the ' best of Woodstock: volume one and two' nonstop on repeat. The really big guys gathered at 'the Pirates' and 'The Fool's' had a little bit of everything, along with the best locally brewed Jaegermeister. But no matter how loud the music was in other clubs or what type of rum different lounges served, there was no cooler place to hang out at than 'Rodin's'.
'Rodin's' was, to say the least, eccentric. Perched up on a small hill, the art-deco building stood with pride, defying every law of physics. It had large windows adorned with long heavy curtains on the top and an open space lounge on the ground floor.
Although the house had several rooms, accommodation was not available, and the reason was simple: Rodin's dealt not only with music, but with all kinds of art. Movies were projected on the house's façade, dance lessons took place on the sand, essays and poems were read on the porch every night, folk songs were played by camp fires and everyone, young or old, had a chance to express themselves. And all kinds of art required all kinds of props who constantly cluttered and occupied the surface, until almost no one could sleep and eat when it first opened, the concept had been so interesting, its popularity skyrocketed. Soon enough, it became the most notorious 'forbidden art-shelter', as the others called it, and from late spring until early fall, it was packed with people.
And it was all thanks to the great efforts of the owner. Nicknamed after her greatest addition to this place, Miss Rodin not only allowed everyone to share their talent, but she also advised and guided the more inexperienced ones, helping as much as possible. Her specialty was music of all sorts, but with the help of a vast experience and a library with illegal books on every subject imaginable, she could formulate an opinion about almost everything. You needed to improve your singing? She was your woman. For writer's block? Recommendations were pouring to get inspired from. Lacan's theory is too complex for you? She would spend hours trying to explain as best as she could. Painting is your thing? Get prepared for her to drag you to the best sceneries this place had.
They all found the woman a bit strange with her whole 'Mother Theresa' complex, but didn't question it. The owner had to be the saddest and the most interesting specimen you had ever seen. She took great care of her appearance, sporting make-up, different hairstyles and an impressive collection of long dresses, but still couldn't shake off the image that something bad happened to her a long time ago.
It is rumored no one witnessed her playing a happy song in ages; every time she picked up an instrument, the melody coming out was either sad, melancholic or dreamy. Despite all this, people still loved her.
Soon enough, the three of them took advantage of her knowledge and good-will and entered under her tutelage.
It had been a very smart decision. They were learning a little bit of everything about the world's old and new cultural waves, while crafting their passion day and night. Always with a smart answer at hand and an immense patience to listen to them, Miss Rodin slowly but surely had gotten closer to the three of them more than any adult ever could.
Under the boss' guidance, Mikasa had written an insane amount of free verse poems while Armin practiced almost all known techniques in photography. Eren was…a different story.
For the past two weeks, in that secluded world beyond the walls, Mikasa had been spending a honeymoon with him. Free from other's judgmental looks, her green-eyed rebel blessed her with luxurious cuddle sessions on the beach every night. Watching the wave until sunrise, wrapped in his arms, gave Mikasa a sensation like none other: that, for once, she was living the poem instead of writing it. She never wanted summer to end.
"Eren, where are you?" she shouted as her legs carried her through various room, all excessively packed. Mikasa always tripped over a book or a pair of shoes left on the floor. 'Jeez, for someone considered to be the greatest mentor of her generation, that woman still has a lot to learn about organizing her lair.' the young girl thought.
Some figures moving in the living room and she went straight to the source. Her feet tapped on the wooden floor as she slided the heavy white Frech door.
"Eren, there you are, I've been looking everywhere for you!" she exclaimed in delight.
However, the boy had other business in mind. He was in deep focus, mouth agape and frowning as he was strumming a guitar. Eren sat on the edge of the dining table, dressed in light, summer clothes, while carefully watching every move of his fingers. His voice followed its own melody, a little off with the guitar notes, but still so warm and expressive, Mikasa turned into a puddle of goo.
He would get it right this time, especially with such a pretty audience, he thought as he stole a glance at her. It would be a long way until he exceeded in music, but his clumsy interpretation of the song brought serenity in the room. By his side, a woman lounged on the wood, dressed in a long velvet dress. A slit on the side exposed one of her bent legs, clad in stockings with intricate designs. She was not watching Eren directly, opting instead to look out the window, but that didn't mean she wasn't paying attention. Her features held a disconnected look while her head nodded in the rhythm of Eren's song.
The woman occasionally played with the elastic band of her stocking while the boy broke a sweat trying to get the notes right and sing accordingly. Mikasa admired the sight: two beautiful people, one perpetually lost in life and the other following the footsteps of the latter, the afternoon lights casting perfect shades on them. 'This is a Renaissance painting.' she thought.
Eren winked at the young girl before his pretty eyes held hers, completely penetrating layers upon layers of stoicism, as the final chorus poured from his mouth.
"To die by your side,
Is such a heavenly way to die…"
Mikasa imagined he was singing about her. Eren hoped she realized he was, in fact, singing about her.
The song came to a decent end. Putting his guitar down, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and Mikasa didn't fail to notice the nice arch of his biceps. He smirked all-knowingly when he caught her staring. Day by day Eren was discovering a promiscuous side of his personality and there was nothing anyone could do about it. As a result, most of the summer residents of the club witnessed the boy's flirting getting more crafted, his touch more studied and overall he developed a constantly- defiant naughty attitude. And just when he was stepping on the thin line between tease and easy target, the boy turned his admirers down on the premise he was still seventeen and didn't want trouble.
Eren really was a heartthrob. Everyone had fantasies about him.
The girls.
Even the boys.
Even some people who shouldn't be fantasizing about a seventeen year old. He was, to quote himself 'the anarchist genderbend version of Sue Lyon's Lolita", as problematic as it sounded. Miss Rodin wondered when she would meet a teenager not passionate about all things controversial.
And still, it was one person he chose not to turn down. And it made Mikasa's self-confidence sky rocket.
"Again." The woman spoke in a disinterested tone and didn't even take her eyes off the window.
"Oh my god Miss Rodin, you can't be serious!" Eren yelled, frustrated and very sad.
"I wanna be an actor, not the next rock star!" He went on. "What's the use of all this? I should be learning stage fight right now!"
"Boy, listen" Miss Rodin said. "You came to me half-begging to teach you everything I know. If you don't like it my way, you're free to go and pave your own road." She gestured to the outside matter-o-factly.
But trust me, the theater stage is a far greater nemesis than you think. You brag all day how acting 'the supreme vocation.' is Do you know why it is so?
Because, as you're sitting there, in front of an audience, who might not be as forgiving as your girlfriend right here," and pointed to the black-haired girl in the doorframe." You have to give them your all:
For the lines, you have to know your way with words better than a poet,
for the way you recite them, you must know your voice better than a singer on a live concert,
for the way you move, you gotta be the image painters see once in their dreams. Are you throwing yourself in the battle empty handed?"
So Eren, humiliated and obedient, didn't reply and began to play once more. Mikasa took a short glimpse at him, gritted her teeth and stormed out of the room, not wanting to look back. He never listened like that to her, not even when it was for his own good, without putting up a fight.
He chose to dedicate himself to a complete stranger, sure, a very smart and charming stranger, but still a stranger, instead of her, his pillar of support, who had been there for him since day one, through thick and thin.
A single tear rolled down. Betrayal did not look good on her. She viciously wiped it down.
'What do I have to do, Eren, for me to be truly yours and for you to be mine and mine alone?'
He promised her things were finally going in the right direction, that his feelings were genuine. Every night they spent embracing and kissing he reassured her that they would be real this time, them, together, as a couple. She balled her fists. That the games were over.
But she knew all of this was temporary.
She knew what was going to happened when they would return back home: hiding, hiding, and more hiding.
Act Two, Present day, Eren and Mikasa
Eren is rushing down the corridors. He storms past his classmates, past the 'no running in the hallway' sign, past boring teachers. Occasionally, he bumps into stupid people, without even saying sorry. He manages to bother three people per second, but his inner turmoil is stronger and his problems demand attention now.
In an empty classroom, Mr. Ackerman is grading his student's papers. From time to time, he takes a sip from his tea while readjusting his glasses. They are uncomfortable, both in shape and in the way they remind him he is slowly growing old. Time has become his enemy. He too, as unlikely as he thought once, will grow old and cripple until he'll be nothing more than a burden. Day by day, a pain in his joints, a sore throat or a pounding headache proves he has never been truly invincible. It was all an illusion of his younger years, a memory buried between warm shores and arms of a beautiful girl.
All of a sudden, the door slams against the wall, but he remains still, unbothered. People had a habit of interrupting his life anyway, might as well get used to it.
A student from his homeroom class invites himself in without a care in the world. He's wearing a red flannel shirt over his compulsory t-shirt and a black beanie. The young boy scans the room for a brief moment, then takes a random chair from the first rows. He violently brings it on the other side of the teacher's desk and plops down in it. Throwing his backpack on the floor, he puts his elbows on the table and leans in uncomfortably close. Right now, the boy looks like he might start crying or throw something on fire.
Levi recognizes him. Who doesn't know Eren, after all? He sure stands out since he's going through a 'misunderstood rebel' phase. His attendance is shit, he wears leather pants instead of his uniform and talks back to the teachers. And since the show he puts on school grounds isn't enough, that boy is also the leader of the junior year theater band. No day passes without Mr. Ackerman receiving complaints about him from the other teachers:
"I caught him reading Camus under his desk instead of paying attention to my class!"
"He switched the Liszt record I had prepared for class with Guns n Roses."
"Yesterday he went to school dressed as Charlie Chaplin! Moustache and all! Mr. Ackerman, this is unacceptable!"
Levi feels like bursting out laughing every time he hears about the freshest mischief. He holds himself back, keeping his stoic face and hopes Eren doesn't peak in high school.
"Listen, I know you're probably not in the mood for this," The boy begins.
"That's right, brat. I'm not."
"But I thought you should know: i DON'T WANNA BE ALIVE ANYMORE! " Eren almost screams. If only Levi had not heard all of the following before… "I wanna die so bad. Jump in front of a truck, drink poison, get diagnosed with stage four cancer I don't know! Anything goes as long as it puts me out of my misery. But suicide is so much trouble! And it would make mom way too sad. "He wails, too dramatically to be taken seriously. "I just wish I wasn't born at all."
"Geez kid, me too." The teacher answers, not even looking up from the assignments. 'Damn, those teens are tryin' to prove they're shit when they can't even spell right.'
"What? " His face visibly drops in surprise. Eren is so expressive, like an open book, you can literally know what he is going to say before he even opens his mouth. And his constant demands for attention are really irritating. "You're not supposed to say that…"
"What am I supposed to say then?" Mr. Ackerman asks as he scribbles something in red ink.
"I don't know…things like 'come on Eren, life's not that bad' or 'you're young and so many beautiful things await for you' or listen to my problems. Give me some advice, like any teacher would. Aren't you obliged by some laws to look out after your students?"
"Unfortunately for you," And Levi takes out a page from a file and waves it in front of Eren's nose. "Erwin knew exactly what he was dealing with back when he hired me. So he printed out the long list of duties I have as a teacher. Let me just go over them real quick." The man scans the page, his grey orbs briefly re-reading paragraphs.
"Just as I thought. It says nowhere here that I should listen to teenage tantrums. What am I, your therapist?"
Eren jumps to his feet, almost knocking the chair over, very disturbed that he's not getting what he wants. He is close to tears, hurt and indignant, a dangerous combination, of course. Levi knows all about it.
"You are gonna get so fired when I actually do it!" He shrieks.
Levi exhales and leans back in his chair. Taking his glasses off, he pinches the bridge of his nose. This is why he's been getting all those white hairs.
"Sit down, drama queen." And the boy follows the order, looking to the side like a four-year-old.
"What happened this time?" Levi mutters, softer than he would like. Eren smiles.
Back at their cozy domestic nest, Mikasa hugs herself in her bed, stealing glances at the telephone she has dragged all the way from the living room. The girl has not waited for Eren today, or yesterday, or the day before. Her adoptive parents ask her what's wrong. The girl keeps her mouth shut until they grow tired of trying and leave her alone.
But although she tries to man up and pretend her loneliness is part of her character development, deep down, she wishes there was someone to talk to. In the face of our greatest demises, we stand alone, she knows that, but her life has recently been a mere tangled mess of disappointments, let downs and unfortunate events. And she's so scared to cut the Gordian knot on her own.
Mikasa is currently going over the telephone numbers in her personal agenda. She reads familiar names, people she talks to everyday, classmates she considers friends, girls and boys whose problems she has listened to and should return the favor. And yet, she can't phone a single person. Not because her problem is delicate, but because she knows no one would answer. Nobody will put her above their own peace and tranquility. Even though she has done so before. Even though she believes helping others is the fundament of humanity, she is ultimately surrounded by people who dart out the second she's not of use to them.
And even if they have some time to spare, they will pretend to listen to everything, adding an approbative nod here and there, and she will be interrupted halfway with a 'girl, that's so sad, but wait until you hear what happened to me…'.
She truly prefers hearing her own sobs to a conversation where one mainly tests how their repetitive dramas sound out loud. She can't take any more of those endless enumerations of things that should be important, but turn out hollow.
People are selfish, she knows that too. It doesn't make it hurt less.
But let's be real now, what's the point of talking about your greatest fears, your taste in men or your hopes and dreams if everyone only sees your ideas as a reason to talk about theirs?
The walls are suffocating. With the mascara running down her cheeks, she stops herself before there's a chance to wipe down fat tears with her red scarf. The girl doesn't want to get it dirty, it would be a nightmare to manually wash it, but in the same time, she longs for Eren's first gift to her to be soaked in tears.
That way, the illusion can persist a little longer; the deception that he's, in fact, comforting her.
Mikasa envies him. Even though she's the valedictorian and a clean, neat girl, good in sports but also in math and literature, they all pale compared to Eren's bravery, to his faith in his dreams, to his will to fight even though no one would stand by his side. People have high expectations of her because she has straight A's, but his mediocre grades grant him a freedom she will never have.
While she relies on grown-up's praises, he needs no one and lets nobody stand in his way. Perhaps that's why Mikasa feels like a side character in her own coming-of-age story. Eren is the one that deserves the spotlight, and everyone acknowledges it.
With no one to turn to, pale fingers form a familiar number on the telephone. She's the worst for sure. The scum of the Earth. She shouldn't bother Miss Rodin with her teenage tragedies, that woman already has enough on her plate. Mikasa scolds herself, but can't put the speaker down anymore.
"Sorry to inform you, but Rodin's is currently closed for visitors." A gentle voice answers at the other end of the phone. Mikasa's chin is trembling.
"Miss Rodin, it's me. I'm sorry…I'm sorry for bothering you like this …" She finally allows her voice to crack.
"it's just, I didn't know who else to call…I know, I know you're busy with packing up and cleaning the house but…there's no one to talk to these days." The girl whispers as she twists the telephone cord around her pointer. Miss Rodin huffs at the other end.
"Aww, birdie, come on. Why are you so upset? "A bitter smile creeps on her painted lips. She doesn't let the kids now, but she's so happy every time the telephone rings, even if it brings bad news, because it means the world beyond has not fallen yet. Yes, she understands, they are still there on the other side, hidden behind walls, her friends and apprentices are living. They are alive and well, will return next summer and ressurect her too.
"I don't know, I don't even know, there's only misery and, and…" Mikasa takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. It doesn't work.
"Eren acted like an asshole again, didn't he?"
"Of course he did. But guess what? This time I bit back. Put an end on…whatever we had. I lashed out at him, let out all the pent up emotions. But it didn't make the weight step off my chest, not in the slightest, Miss Rodin.
Everyone told me this was the rational thing to do. Finish things with him, I mean. To be honest with you, I couldn't help a dramatic exit, but still.
There has always been only one scenario available for us and it doesn't have a happy ending.
And yet, I can't shake off the feeling that I made the wrong choice. Walking out of somebody's life and locking the door behind you is such a hard thing to do. Not looking back and forgetting is definitely not my style. I always want to leave it cracked, just in case there's a change of heart."
Miss Rodin patiently listens to her, biting her lower lip and gazing at the waves. There, in the cold, deserted house, she wraps her wool-lined coat tighter. If only Mikasa knew how familiar she is with everything she's saying…
"So that's the short version of it." Eren finishes and is playing with his thumbs. The anticipation consumes him. Levi takes a glance at his watch to notice how much time he has wasted so far.
"Damn, if that's the short version, I'm really not interested in the long one."
"Well, do you have any advice for me?" The boy sheepishly asks.
"Yeah, stop being a dick." Levi grunts.
"Are you allowed to say that to a student?" Eren squints his eyes like he's cheekily threatening him.
"I get away with most things, in case you haven't noticed how I teach my classes. Still, it would have been easier to prevent all of this from happening. Why did you act like such an asshole to this girl? "
The teen folds his arms on the desk and rests his head on top of them. He ponders for a while before he speaks again.
"I'm afraid. Not of us failing. But of us winning. Somehow we'll fool everyone and end up as a couple. Then what? Swore eternal love, get married and watch ourselves become ghosts of what we once wore? What if after getting what I want, I realize it's not what I need?
I'm so afraid all we are gonna get are first row tickets to the show of wasting away everything we admire about each other. I mean, look what I've found…" He stops to grab his backpack left on the floor. With trembling fingers, he opens the zipper, takes out a big square and supports it standing so that his teacher sees the cover.
"Do you know what this is?" Eren asks, fuming. Levi questions the boy's sanity.
"it's a record."
"Wrong! It's an illegal record! Are you blind? This is The Rolling Stones. And what's more, this isn't mine. It's mom's. Did you hear that? MOM'S. My mother, who is the most dull, boring, domestic, stuck-up person in the world, used to listen to rock when she was younger. "Eren blabbers while Levi leans back in his chair.
"And if you listen to this music you have to be cool, it's a requirement. Then she married my father and what the hell happened? All she ever does is follow an outdated moral code and think about what she's cooking for dinner. She's not even happy with dad, all they ever do all day is argue. I can't imagine her dancing and singing along to 'Paint it black'.
The more I play this record, Mr. Ackermann, the more I realize there is no happy ever after. Love ruins everything. You trust someone completely, let them guide your life until one day the reflection in the mirror is everything you swore you wouldn't become. I don't want that to happen to me."
"I disagree." The man says raising his shoulders.
"How can you disagree when even the great philosopher Kierkegaard affirms romantic love is the greatest demise of man?"
Levi raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms.
" Brat, can you even spell 'Kierkegaard'?"
Eren visibly blushes and squirms in his seat, mumbling an 'ughh…'
"Kid, listen." Levi interrupts him and turns serious. "Just because some famous guy wrote it with nice words doesn't mean it's true.
Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this since you're quite a rascal and the principal hates threats on our authority." Levi pauses, choosing his words carefully. "But you give adults too much credit. In truth, we haven't gotten all figured out."
Mikasa is letting words out of her mouth pour like she's a broken faucet: how she waited for Eren and he didn't show up, the heartbreak, how she lashed out at him, her fling with Annie in an attempt to forget him, more heartbreak, the way his eyes have felt on the back of her neck for the past two weeks, arguments and shouts when she gave up her role from the school play, Eren against the world on his own, heartbreak over and over. She stutters and doesn't hold back on the swear words, and the girl is worried it all comes out wrong, that the road between her heart and the others is still incomplete because of she's still too stupid to express herself. Her clumsy storytelling comes to an end, and she can finally take a deep breath. Miss Rodin emits a weird sound, something between a chuckle and a huff.
"Sweetheart, forgive him, for he is very dumb and truly loves you."
"How can you say that when I'm so vulnerable?"
"I-I don't know. I say what I feel. "
"No! You take advantage of us!" Mikasa bares her metaphorical teeth like any wounded animal. She hits everyone where it hurts when they don't share her opinion. "You dare to project your unfulfilled love affair on two high schoolers . Miss Rodin, I don't know what happened to you because you refuse to tell us, but just because someone left you doesn't mean I should stay with Eren. The rational side left in me clearly sees the road ahead."
"If you know the right answer already, why did you call?" The woman asks.
Mikasa pauses. She really wishes she was on the beach with Miss Rodin, smoking and gazing at the angry sea, instead of mourning in her small childish room.
"I called because Eren and I have been one and the same for too long.
When I ripped myself apart from him, it hurt, of course, but I expected it to pass.
It didn't. It's been weeks, and the pain is still pulsing in the imaginary spot we were connected. Sure, I've tried patching it up, with Annie and all that, and still the wound just won't close. It keeps bleeding and smells like an early death. So here I am. Laying on the operating room, waiting for the doctor to come and sew the stiches."
The woman on the other end lets out a loud, admirable whistle.
"Damn, girl, when is this getting turned into your next poem?"
Mikasa rubs her head in embarrassment as she gets caught right in the act.
"I'm working on it but it's really hard to make everything rhyme! Whatever…forget I asked. You love Eren more anyway and keep his side"
"How can you say that?!" The woman exclaims, mimicking the tone Mikasa used on her earlier. "I equally care about your stupid asses! If you feel I give Eren more attention, it's because he has yet to wake up and find himself, while you…you already know who you are. However different you two might be, I love you all the same."
" All the time or only when I remind you of your ex?"
"Mikasa..." Miss Rodin scolds her. "when did you become so cruel?"
"Since I've seen how Eren is perfectly fine without me supporting him. Nobody needs me, Miss Rodin."
The woman rolls her eyes and groans desperately. As much as she loves the spirit of teenagers, they can be such self-centered, angsty pain in the asses.
"Things won't work out between us, Mr. Ackerman, I feel it." The boy softly cries and bangs his head on the table.
"Oh my god! what if they do, you brat? Are you just going to toss it all into the gutter because you have a 'feeling'!? Get in there and find your own answers!"
Levi flicks Eren's forehead, the boy jumping in pain. He rubs his sore spot while Mr. Ackerman is making assumptions on how long his tantrum is going to last.
"I don't know Mr. Socrates, Mi- I mean, this girl, is all I want from afar. She is wild, strong, calculated, I'm afraid to ruin this perfect image projected on her, no matter how selfish this may sound. I have relied on this illusion half my life to keep me from going insane."
Back at their house, his supporting pillar is currently being scolded.
"Mikasa, I will spell things out for you, since 'rational' is apparently the new sexy. Eren is not as perfect as you depict him." Miss Rodin starts. Unbeknownst to her, or anyone for that matter, far away from the polluted beach and closed music clubs, someone just as imperfect completes her sentences in a deserted classroom.
"…and neither are you" Levi mutters, resisting the urge to light up a cigarette. The words overlap perfectly, perhaps by the fault of an ironic fate.
"The problem is…" the woman goes.
"…whether or not…" the man follows.
"You're perfect for each other."
The four of them take their time to process the situation. Even though everything remains in their natural state, they all have this strange feeling something has happened, something to disrupt the reality, yet they can't put their finger on it. Mikasa is the first to hang up and end the conversation with a grateful 'thank you'.
"My pleasure. Call me anytime, sweetie." Miss Rodin smiles in her fragile club.
Eren gets up from his seat and grabs his backpack. Just when he is about to leave, he spots something on the corner of his teacher's desk. It's a copy of Cehov's works, encased in red leather covers.
" Mr. Socrates, I think you're my second favorite adult!"
Mr. Ackerman puts his glasses back on and resumes his work. He doesn't bother to ask who the first one is.
"Go see a therapist, brat."
Eren snickers and heads out with determined steps. Even though he likes his teacher's unusual way of talking, his advices are too metaphorical for his tastes. Right now, the boy needs something more practical. And if you're looking for practical, there is one person who is the textbook definition of that: his name's Armin.
A little surprise visit at his dorm won't kill him. But even Eren knows it's rude to show up empty-handed.
"Mr. Ackerman!" the boy spins suddenly. " Do you know where an almost legal person can buy vodka?"
Levi frowns and looks at him as if he's grown another head.
"Get out."
"But…"
"Out." The man shoos him away. He is, as the saying goes, too old for this shit.
Miles away, the woman is taking a smoke from her cigarette holder. It's late September, This place has become unfriendly and bland, like a highschool sweetheart at the 10 year reunion: modest and devoid of anything you've once loved. The sea is just salt water now, music clubs are merely wood structures and straw rooftops, the sunrise is nothing more than the start of another day in hell.
The beach, once full of sun, beautiful music and people dancing on the streets, is now deserted and cold like the artic. The party's done, the curtain has fallen, and now she has to get up and clean up the mess the guests left behind. She really hates winters.
The woman will start with her own home. Luckly, one of her 'informal' students has put up together a set of strings, ropes and pulleys to make the work easier. Now, with the simple twist of the handle, the infamous 'Rodin's' sign perched on the top descends to the ground. This lonely wolf has to drag it and store it until the next summer rolls around. The woman keeps it under lock and key, and this is the part that she dislikes the most.
For she has to take off her 'Miss Rodin' armor and become only Rhea once more.
Act Three, the next day
"All men must die, yes, but we are no men!" Someone booms in the large throne room, the voice echoing. "We are starved beasts! " A royal figure adds dramatically, his posture tall and proud, dominating the whole atmosphere.
The time has come for the prince to go to war. Enemies have surrounded the whole citadel, so now he and his loyal subjects are getting ready to head into the battle outnumbered, hungry and with rusty weapons.
Even though death is knocking on their door, the prince could not give up. Even if he is the last one standing, he will still fight until his last breath. And so will the others, that is their nature, for he is not ruling over a nation of cowards! His eyes soften. The prince couldn't have asked for better companions.
"Yes brothers, we might die, we might never return" The person turns around to face his comrades, fisting his long, crimson cloak. He looks at each of them, thinking about the great times they had together and the battles they've won. And how the days of his kingdom are numbered.
"But what if we might live!? A great life awaits us, if only we dare to fight the usurpers!" And so he takes the sword of out his sheath, points it towards the sky and walks to the roaring crowd that awaits him.
"We have endured hunger, humiliations, years of slavery! Well, I say no more! Our time has finally come! Follow me into the battle, and whatever end we meet, we shall make history tonight!" He exclaims with a proud yell, as his tone rises in power.
"Cut! I said cut!" Mikasa speaks thorough her megaphone and Armin turns off the spotlight on Eren. Everyone groans in frustrations, they are so not in the mood to redo the scene. The theater room is cold, damp and Eren throws his prop sword aside and tears out his synthetic cape in anger. His glass is full to the brim, his patience, already small, long overdue. Green eyes that hold nothing but fiery dread, land on the imbecile girl in the front row.
Meanwhile, Connie and Sasha cross their arms and grunted. Jean sits down on the stage and loosens up the buttons of his costume.
"What is wrong with you?! We had rehearsed this scene for the 10th time already ! We are tired and dehydrated! " Eren yells.
"What is wrong with me?" Mikasa says into the device and crosses her legs. "What is wrong with you? I have seen better acting when the middle-schoolers were rehearsing earlier."
"At least I am actually acting, and not lying around in the audience, throwing orders left and right!
I should have kicked you out of the band the moment you decided to give up your role in the play! Now we not only have a lack of female lead, we also got a pretentious manager that doesn't even know what she's doing stuck on our heads!" The girl has never experienced his anger directed at her, so it fuels even more her uncertainty. She doesn't let it show, though. The real battle, like the one in the play, ceases as soon as one of them shows weakness.
Mikasa is exasperated. And Eren's behavior isn't the only reason. This whole theater fiasco has been way out of her league from the start. Her acting is, at the very best, very mediocre, not fake per se, but she never manages to sell the desired image to the audience, like Eren does. He is the star of the show, knows how to walk, when to pause, how to command or beg without even opening his mouth. His roles are studied, his performances hypnotizing to everyone.
"Everyone, take a break, we will be back in five." Eren says and everyone sighs in relief.
Sasha plopps down beside Jean. She takes some clean newspapers and spreads it in the middle of the stage. Then,from a brown bag came out some boiled whole potatoes, diced beef and green onion. She grabbs a bread loaf and a knife and starts to cut generous slices. Jean is currently thinking what type of deranged psycho carries a whole bread and a knife around. When all is done, the girl announces proudly:
"the Feast is ready. Dig in, my starved beasts!" She says with such vigor, as if she still is in the role of the prestigious knight. Everyone comes up near her and sits down in a circle, the hardwood floor digging into their asses.
"You too Armin, leave those machines and come grab a bite!" Sasha yells with her mouth full and Armin pops out from behind the stage and joins the party. They all are eating in silence, enjoying the nice taste of their simple meal.
All of a sudden, someone very short wrestles with the massive door of the festivities hall. The band ceases to eat and fix their eyes on the newcomer. With a few grunts and huffs, the small figure manages to get inside. A happy Historia runs down the stairs that lead to the stage. Eren smirks to himself, thinking the real show is about to begin. If Historia does her part and he doesn't miserably fail, there is no way their plan won't work. She is a sight to behold in her baby blue flower dress, white straw hat and massive green plastic earrings. That girl takes great care of herself, no matter where she goes to, always polished and wearing lipgloss.
'Maybe to compensate the fact that she's a quite the ditz' Mikasa thinks.
"Hello hello! Sorry I'm so late, I came as quickly as I could."Historia greets everyone and waves her manicured hand.
"Hey there girl, not that we mind, but what are you doing here?" Jean asks while biting into a makeshift sandwich. Before she can answer, Eren rises to his feet and wipes his mouth in a crude way. He urges the blonde girl to come up on the stage and Historia follows.
" Forgot to tell you two very important things. Firstly, due to my help and great efforts, you should build me a statue. There are far too many empty pedestals in Shiganshina anyway.
Secondly, this girl..." And He throws his arm around Historia's tiny shoulders, squishing her into his side "which I want to ear due to her sweetness" Eren then presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "has agreed to replace Mikasa in our play. I present you our new female lead.! Whatcha sayin' my fellow artists?" The boy speaks with grandeur, a hand on his hip.
"I say welcome to the team, blondie!" Connie's eyes light up as he puts his bread down, leg bent at the knee and his arm resting on top of it. Sasha pinches his thigh and her boyfriend jumps in pain.
"No way we accept her just like that!" Mikasa interjects. "She has to give an audition first!" She disapproves, a frown perched on her pale features. The green-eyed boy scoffs.
"Well, it's not really like we have a choice now is it? We can't perform without the damsel in distress. And I think goldilocks here has the looks for the part, don't you agree?" Eren bites back at her.
"Cool it off, you two!" Armin interjects in a classical fit of letting steam out. " We are in no state to make a decision right now. The whole team is angry, sore and sweaty. I don't know about you, but I want to go home."
"Me too!" Connie yells.
"Me three!" Sasha joins and is already packing up the leftovers.
"Wait! You can't do that! Historia has come all this way and didn't even get to see us acting!" Eren pats the head of the short girl. She pouts and nods in agreement.
"I have so much to learn from you guys! The sooner I start, the better!" Historia cries in false admiration. The boy thinks even for a set-up plan, she's quite the actress. Perhaps he should seriously consider letting her join the drama club.
" Ugh, I'm sorry blondie, looks like your timing is just off. But there is always a day tomorrow." Eren grips her shoulder, reassuringly. "I mean, Armin's right. We're on the verge of collapsing because of one psycho who shall not be named!" And he pierces Mikasa with his gaze. She looks to the side, intimidated.
"Guess I'll see you tomorrow then…" the cute girl lowers her gaze. The plan is working perfectly.
"Yeah. Try to actually show up on time." One of the boys says as he stretches. Connie wraps his arm around Sasha.
"Alright then! Let's wrap up, guys. We're done for the day!" Eren claps his hands as everyone except Mikasa sighs in relief.
"About damn time!" Jean mutters and gets up. Armin is shutting down the giant machinery, while the goofy couple has sneaked out without even a 'goodbye'.
"See you tomorrow, Eren!" Historia says and leans in to peck his cheek out of the blue. An affectionate friendly gesture, considering the fact that goldilocks is far more promiscuous to the boys she really likes, but Mikasa's blood is boiling all the same, her fist shut tight so as not to punch the girl in the face.
'Who does this whore think she is, touching him like that?' the demon inside her screams before her rational side tells her she's reaping exactly what she sowed.
The rest of the team exchanges their goodbyes and slip out of the dark, damp rehearsal room. Armin is first to leave, followed by Jean and Historia. Eren is making his way to the exit, when all of a sudden, Mikasa crosses her arms.
"Eren, I'd like to have a word with you." He pauses and turns around, smiling to himself. 'Right into our trap.' He thinks. Before she closes the door, blondie turns her head to the boy, fixing his gaze.
'You have one shot, don't blow it up' she tries to say .
He nods, as if somehow understanding her.
When the door is shut tight and there is only the two of them left , Eren prepares himself for the real show to start.
Foreplay's over, it's time for the real deal.
"What was that all about?" Mikasa asks, her tone dead serious and flat.
"You'll have to be more explicit. I simply don't know what you're talking about." He mocks her with a bratty smirk, turning his head to the side.
"For start, how about the fact you replaced me with the school slut."
"Ouch. I thought you girls should be more supportive with each other. Jealous much?"
The girl looked away from him, an embarrassed blush creeping on her face.
"As if. I don't care about your stupid play anymore."
" This is not only about the play Mika…" He affirms, sure of Historia's plan.
"It is!" She objects. " I wanted to leave the drama club for good, but all the other extracurricular are full to the brim."
"Okay…then if you don't give two shits about the play why are you concerned with how it turns out?" Eren asks.
'Because it's important to you.' She wants to say.
"Because if things turn out bad it will affect my overall grade." She replies instead and he believes her lies.
"Don't worry, it won't. You're working with a pro." Eren proudly gestures to himself. Mikasa lets out in an ironic laughter.
" . me? Where is this pro you're talking about? Or are you talking about Armin? 'cause right now, all I'm seeing is a circus horse who considers himself so hot that he can distract the audience from his terrible performances." She doesn't like playing dirty, but in love and war…
The girl prepares a blow which will hit him where it hurts.
"At least Sue Lyon has some talent." She smirks and waits for his outburst. It never comes.
"How about a little game then? " The boy says, all sly as if all this time he has been waiting for the right moment to strike. Shit, she did not expect that. It definitely smells like trouble and her instincts tell her to run. She has known him long enough to know he's most dangerous when calm.
"I'll prove it to you that I'm capable of so much more than distracting the audience with my good looks." Eren kneels down to her level, his deep jade eyes penetrating her soul. She feels like she is staring straight into his abyss, and it terrifies the shit out of her of the things he's capable of.
Slowly but surely, Eren slips into the role he knows best. The one which grasps his true nature, for it has been running through his veins ever since he was born: The hunter.
"I'll interpret a different character that I'm not used to, right here, right now. If I deliver poorly, you win. I'll admit that I'm just a circus performer."
"and I won't allow Historia to join our band" he adds, luring her in more into his trap.
"and if I lose?" Mikasa asks half-heartily.
" Then.." His voice is only but a whisper, so close to her face they are almost touching foreheads. "you forgive me." His gaze drops down to her deep red painted lips and stay there. She gets what he's hinting at.
"I'm not playing your stupid games anymore." Mikasa frowns, backing away from him on her knees, like the prey does when it's already too late.
"Come on, I'll even let you choose…" He says, rising to feet, as he strolls towards her, hands in his pockets, a cruel smirk adorning his features.
"I still won't do it." She complains. Eren circles her kneeling form, indulging in her, tempting as the snake from Eden.
"Why is that, Mikasa? Oh I know…" he went around her once, twice, thrice and halted. "It's because you're a scaredy cat and you only play the games you are sure to win at. Poor little kitten…" He whines at her with a demeaning voice.
She swallows down her sorrow, hating how Eren knows her in the weakest, most vile and prideful form, and he still chooses to humiliate her in the way that hurts the most.
"Fine, you goof. Whatever. I'll play." It's not like she has a choice anyway. Eren has a way with people that makes it hard for them to refuse him.
"I knew you couldn't resist me. What does the lady desire then?" Again he goes with his teasing, giving her the impression she has some control over the situation.
"A depressed Russian woman. How about that?" And so the dice have been thrown.
"Your wish is my command." He bows like a servant in front of her. Little does she know, he had prepared beforehand for every possible answer.
Then all of the sudden, he jumps behind, grabbed the girl by the armpits and, despite the flow of protests, dragged her butt across the scene, until she sat in the center. It is known what great care he takes of his audience.
"I have one condition though." The boy adds, signaling trouble's about to start. Did she seriously think he'll go easy on her? Oh boy, she's in for a ride.
"Hurry up then, we don't have all evening." Mikasa speaks . At which Eren, who still stands behind her, curls his long, slender fingers around her scarf.
The same precious crimson scarf she has been constantly wearing ever since he has wrapped it around her neck all those years ago.
Just like a caress, one voice inside her head says softly.
Just like a leash, another one screams.
She sits there like a statue, frozen, and allows him to pull her scarf up and up, trembling just barely against the cloth and the fingers she feels through it, until he finally drapes it across her eyes.
Darkness engulfs her as Eren secures it with a knot behind her head. He leans over and hisses into her ear.
"Consider this a safety measure against my so called eye-pleasing-acting." And his voice, vain and captivating on its own , arouses a heavy sorrow deep in her loins, the coils of her own longing securing her in place.
Eren lets her go and runs to the music panel behind the curtain, while She sits there, in the empty abandoned theatre, nervous and blindfolded, completely at his mercy.
In an instant, the heavy silence of the establishment is replaced with ethereal music.
The melancholic yet alert tune clashes against the walls, notes filling perfectly the gaps between stale molecules of air.
Rachmaninoff's famous Italian Polka is playing.
She hears Eren's footsteps coming towards her, and the girl clings to the reassuring sound that he did not abandon her.
He halts right in front of her, without a word.
Mikasa is preparing for the blow, but for a while, he delivers none.
They remain speechless, devouring each other. Only the music can be heard between them.
Until he begins.
Eren takes a deep breath and cries not too loud, not too forced. Just an ashamed, pitiful sob, that betrays a deep sense of self torture.
"My dearest Sonia, if you only knew,
how utterly miserable I am,
what a cruel nightmare my life has been..."
'Of course he chooses Sonya's final monologue from Cehov's Uncle Vanya' the girl thinks and lets out a superior huff.
But when His fingers grasp her chin and force her slowly up to his level, daring to breathe felt rude to Mikasa.
"What can you do?" his voice went down, deep like it belonged to a demon in pain." We have to live. And we will , uncle Vanya.
We shall live a long, long procession of days and bottomless nights,
we shall patiently bear the trials that fate imposes on us.
We will slave away for others, both now and when we will be old, without knowing what rest is." And he swung her chin side to side, tilting her head in the rhythm of the lines.
"And when our time will come, we shall perish humbly, without patching up our deaths" He speaks very low , merciful. Eren takes a long pause, as his hands press firmly on her waist, digging into the flesh. She gasps.
"But there, on the other side, ahh my dear…" He hisses with fury,
" we shall tell the others of our sufferings, " Anger,
"how much we have wept, " Rebellion,
"how much unhappiness we had to face while living." the feeling of injustice.
" And god will take pity on us. " the boy says, jumping from rage to a gentle madness.
"And both you and I, dear, shall see another life, beautiful and serene," he grows more and more hopeful, his voice cracking with each letter from the sheer pleasure of his illusion.
"we shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrows with tenderness and a smile, and we will rest." Eren then secures his arms around her middle and hoists her up, his head at the same level with her navel.
"I believe it " and he strolls with her across the stage, with long, diagonal steps and sharp turns.
"I have faith in it" Almost like he's waltzing her,
"I have faith in it with my whole heart" While she feels like she's flying.
He carries her further around, basking her in his impossible dream.
"We shall rest" And his smile is audible. Eren then slowly lets her down, putting her on her feet. He gets behind her, his chest touching her back as much as possible.
Although she can't see, Mikasa is sure they are facing the imaginary audience. The boy wraps his arms tightly around her middle and rests his head into the crook of her neck.
"We shall rest, do you hear me?" He mutters into her ear.
"I can almost see it…when this is over,"
"We shall hear" Nimble fingers pull down her scarf covering her eyes, "…the angels singing"
"We shall see the world beyond shining like a jewel." He couldn't hold back a genuine laughter.
"We shall see all evil and all our pain melt away in the great compassion that will swallow the entire world."
Instead of old dilapidated chairs, eaten by moths and permanently stained with various bodily fluids, Mikasa has a clear view of what he's describing: the world beyond, where people can love whomever they please, with its enormous stores always packed, the concept of private property and where the sun's always shining.
"And our life will be peaceful. It will be sweet and tender… like your caress." And he kneels on the floor at first, then drags her down too, and places her body across his lap.
"I have faith in it. Yes, I do"
And Eren molded his anguished self to perfection.
"Oh, Uncle Vanya" He wails in pain.
"My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying!" And his palms cup her face, thumbs wiping away imaginary tears on her cheeks. If only Mikasa had any left…
"I know…"
"I'm aware that you've never known true happiness all your life, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait only for a while!" He brings their faces closer and closer until he can feel her breath on his lips.
"We too deserve it. " And although his acting has been impeccable, the shaking hands betray him.
"We too shall be set free." He finishes the monologue, with each word his lips brushing lightly against hers.
He wants so badly to scream how sorry he is, but he cannot trust his voice to say the right things any longer. Eren's exhausted, has ran out of clever words after all those sleepless nights.
Besides, no epithet can compare to how good it feels to finally hold her again.
So he resorts to the only way of asking for forgiveness he knows.
That is clashing his mouth against hers.
He's not gentle, he could not have been. After so many fights, so many arguments, Eren is famished for her. Wants so badly to savor everything about Mikasa.
Top to bottom. Every nook and cranny.
Her lips are cold, yet inviting, and move against his with equal desire. They are smearing her lipstick all over their faces as their tongues explore again, brushing and licking. First, she invites herself in, then succumbs to his dominance.
And there is nothing but the piano sounds around them.
Eren pushes her back and crawls on top of her. His hands are roaming all over, on her calves, gripping her hips, caressing her collarbones. She has forgotten how good his touch feels. It melts away all her cold and ice angst into a pitiful puddle of yearning.
Of course he has won the game, of course Mikasa forgives him, there was no other way after all. In that devastated room, with hard wood digging into her back and his mouth on hers, eating each other whole, she comes to her own conclusions:
There was no way for her to enjoy life other than by his side.
In the background, the music goes on long after the acting stopped, as if announcing the happy ending.
And if the price is all those moments of misery and uncertainty, she will gladly pay it tenfold. However disturbingly that might sound.
Because only with Eren by her side she knows both how to be aggressive and kind.
Both the creator and the creation.
The two sides of the same coin.
It is as if their own existence is conditioned by the other's. She likes it.
Because you cannot achieve completion just by being strong.
And, after many days and dozens of drafts tossed into the trash bin, the last verse, the one she has been working on forever, the one she has been thinking about in class, at practice or with friends, echoes inside her mind and her heart . By some miracle or simply by the natural order of things, her poem finally completes itself:
If you were to disappear
From my weeping and my laughter…
I'd find you within, my dear
Build you of myself thereafter.
As they continue their passionate kiss in licks and laps, his right hand goes up her thigh, higher and higher, sneaking under her skirt until Eren's fingers brush around where she wants him the most.
She lets out a strangled moan into his mouth as he starts to give her exactly what she likes. Whether it's rough, or gentle, slow or desperate, Eren knows it better than she does.
And as the last notes of the symphony fade away, they begin to compose one of their own.
A/N: I tried to make things subtle enough but I guess you are pretty confused right now. Do not fret, for I will clarify in simple words:
Act two happens before chapter 8 and act three a day after it. SO! Eren goes to Levi, is not satisfied with the results, visits Armin, they have that whole fiasco with the Breakfast Club, then makes that deal with Historia. Next day, they act their plan out and you saw how things turned out!
Hope you like a longer chapter than usual! Remember there is nothing as fulfilling as waking up to review, subscription or fav notifications!
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!
I'm going on hiatus for a while! This is why I decided to bless you with a longer chapter! Before you are all sad, don't worry, I'm not giving up on this fic. But exams are coming so education and career come first! I have to study, but be sure, as soon as exams are over, I will write again.
Until then, take care of your asses.
Also yeah, I took inspiration from Good will hunting and the edge of seventeen for this chapter. Fitting right?