"Is he dead?"

"He's still fucking alive."

"You're sure?"

"I would know if he left."

"He's not responding."

"Just shoot him anyway, he's suffering!"

"Historia."

"Everyone, get back."

Stick slid against wood. The bow creaked as it unhinged.

And then

I was the arrow, hitting bullseye. I landed on Earth, in a stranger's room, then realized it was my own.

My desk. My bed. My clothes. Everything looked old and seen years ago. Some of these possessions, I didn't even recall owning. It threw me off completely. I had just returned from a profoundly long retreat.

When I sat up, I felt something I haven't felt in weeks. Hunger. It had only been overnight since I ate, but my body was tricked into thinking it had been longer than that.

I hoped for my family to not notice any difference in me. I've been so immersed that if I had in fact changed, I didn't even know it.

Everyone is an amalgamation of the people they've known. In my case, Levi now took up around one-third of my personality. On the flip side, I inspired part of his vocabulary. It was something no one brought up because it didn't need to be pointed out. If you listened to us for just a day, you would hear.

My sister looked at me for less than a second. My father, too.

My mother, a woman whose name I've forgotten, stood at the sink and said over her shoulder, "Here comes our last-place champion."

...Oh, she was talking to me. "Good morning," I said, about to pull out a seat but then cancelling.

I did not want to have breakfast right there. There was a hidden test only I knew of and I haven't studied for it one bit.

I returned to the stairs. Before I made my first step, the woman said, "Are you not hungry?" I looked over. She was expecting a response.

I walked back over. "What's there to eat?"

"Well," she pointed at a plate. "I made pancakes, but we still have apples. You usually have those."

Remembering that I was very nonverbal with her, I said nothing as I went to open the fridge. It was unbelievable how the apples were still fresh.

I said no to pancakes and climbed back upstairs. When I closed my door, I looked down at the pairing knife I'd taken with me out of muscle memory.

Jesus.

I went to the mirror. My neck was still intact and my first rodeo was over with. I only had ninety-nine more trials. I didn't know how to feel about the experience. Was it an accurate simulation? Have I now tasted death and still lived?

A laugh came out, against my will. I couldn't wait to tell Levi. "Look, I'm still alive!"

No one came to my door or called for me. They didn't know a thing. Their son just woke up the morning after the night before, as he does. He didn't leave his room the rest of the day; he barely ever does. All he ate that day was a singular fruit. He's on a diet, so it makes total sense.

Here's something I was now fluent in because of Levi: Falling asleep in thirty seconds.

The wait for nightfall was easy. My time perception really did adjust. It was like a transferrable skill. If I had to guess, I would've said that the day only took about five hours to end.

As I went back to where I now belonged, I thought to myself, this will take three months at a minimum. Will I give up someday?

I spawned in his embrace. I didn't register that he was there until I tried to move.

I looked down, not expecting my nose to dive into his hair that was a bubble of jasmine and ocean air.

"Did you wait for me?"

"Yes," he said, squeezing me once before letting go. "How do you feel?"

I touched my neck.

It was harrowing. But, "I'm fine now."

I didn't bother getting up. It wasn't rude of me to stay lying.

He took both of my hands, pried them open, and covered his face with them. His eyelashes tickled as he blinked. "You're still here," he said, breath warm against my palms that acted as his pop filters.

"Yes," I grinned wide. Happiness, not humor.

He put his lids to rest. My hands felt a chill at his nose, where he inhaled.

I felt around his skull, dabbing here and there as though in search of a fingerprint scanner. He was right here, live and touchable. My dying wish was granted a bit late.

"How did I appear in your arms?"

"I pulled you here myself."

I really thought I fell asleep in thirty seconds.

I laughed.

"It's not funny."

"Sorry." I didn't stop.

"What?"

"You're just," I knew I shouldn't say it, "a little bit dramatic."

He reacted the way I expected. He pulled my hands away so I could see the defiance on his face. "I'll slit my throat a hundred times in front of you. See how you like it."

He appeared to rise higher as he said it. The truth was, he only got above me.

I averted my head. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"What way?"

No answer.

"What way?"

I peeked at him. "You know."

"I have no idea what you mean."

I shut my eyes. "Never mind."

There were three seconds without movement. Then, I got pushed. "What are you doing?" I asked as I rolled over.

"I'm using your bed."

"Did all that waiting tire you?"

"Yeah." That version of yes was borrowed from me. Also, I did not expect to hear it. When I looked over, he stared right back. "What? So what if it did?"

I spoke from my heart; meaning, I didn't have to rehearse this is my head. I knew it would come out perfectly the first try. "I'm gonna hurt you," I said, "I will hurt you so many times."

He said again, with the same cadence, "Yeah."

"I'll ruin your life."

"And?"

"And it's gonna be all your fault."

"Okay."

"You're just gonna let me do it?"

He blinked, showing that he stood his ground. He did not intend to run. "I'm allowing it."

This man was a lying bastard. He had yet to know that I've discovered some of his tracks.

So what? Don't tell me you thought that was going to stop me.

There wasn't going to be repercussions for it; he just said so. I didn't think he deserved to give me permission, so I didn't ask for it this time, either.

Succeeding plenty of warning, I caught him by his mouth, and with his hands around my jaw, he accepted me finally. He slightly drew back, shy as a virgin, which he was far from being. I didn't let him go.

Girls. Boys. Their lips aren't too different. I realize that now. It just depended on the person.

But it wasn't about how soft his lips were. It was the way his knee climbed over mine like it was a reflex, an instinct. The way each breath he took was deliberately profound, so he could take in my scent; have it intoxicate him, the way his did me. It cried, I've been waiting.

Why now? Levi, why do you let me in now? I thought you didn't feel this way. What changed your mind?

He exhaled. His breath carried some of his voice with it. It fell on my ears like lithium on water. It led a napalm strike in me, burning its way further and further down. It was such a violent effect he just had, I couldn't figure it out. It made me forget every doubt I had. Only one thing was for sure; he wasn't lying to me right now. What we were right now had to be true, even if just for a moment.

He's never said so much using as few words as he did. None of this was friendly. The way he pulled away just to lock with me again, head leaning the other way. Or how much pushback I was getting at our pelvises. We're unabashed, shameless. There was no excuse for us.

My heart hasn't raced like this since I overdosed on caffeine. This was its own feeling, though. This felt more like missing, and wanting, and keeping. He was easier on my tastebuds, and my airways. He was easier on my heart.

And he was good at this. We both knew where he got it from. I could guess where those hands have been, but all that mattered to me was that they now ended up on my chest, thinking about going south.

I am thinner now, so I didn't try to stop him. My stupid, insecure self; I flexed before his fingers ran down my stomach. An attempt to show off.

He pushed me away, hand on my neck. It was only then that I became aware that I'd gotten on top of him.

His breathing had not quickened by much. Like me, he had yet to come to terms with this.

I said, "What have we done?"

Indifferent. He put his forehead against mine. If there was any flicker of emotion in him, it didn't shine so bright. He said, simply, "What did we do?"

"We just."

"We just what?"

"Levi, don't fuck with me."

"What do you mean?" he pushed me aside. "Did I do something?"

We loved for two minutes. Then, we were gone again. And that was precisely our problem. I've only been suffering from withdrawal, and what I saw in front of me was a bottomless nicotine stick.

He was standing up now. He struck small poses in front of my mirror that was used to seeing me. The longer I watched, the more I thought to myself, I will let him get away this time.

Fighting death is similar to fighting slumber. To a certain point, I can will myself alive about as much as I could keep myself awake against propofol. Not long at all.

The second sacrifice was easier. I did as Zeke said and didn't fight it. Something became apparent to me before I came back here: Zeke was a god of war. It was in how he knew exactly where to slice.

Levi said he didn't cut deep enough before this. Zeke thought there was nothing wrong with his technique. They edged close to arguing until Historia got on Levi's side. Now, Zeke was a bit resentful. When he cut me again, he did it with more force than last time.

This time, I was of less panic and didn't make as much of a mess. I only needed one of the gods to hold me still. It was Levi. Just Levi. I covered my own mouth, not wanting to search for him through a red veil again. He was calm as a lake; emotions that he concealed not for himself, but for me.

He smiled. He cheesed at me. What kind of friend did that? It baffled me, but it honestly worked. Sometimes, when the wave of pain left me for less than a second, I could smile back.

And he talked to me. Like we haven't met in a while. I couldn't talk back, but you can bet I listened. He didn't speak of any new stories; we just reread the ones we unintentionally wrote together.

Why did they let him stand before the altar on his own like this? Was it the manner in which my fingers laid between his? Was it how deep our conversations got? Because I don't remember him telling everyone else to back up.

Perhaps, it was that I wasn't just any man; I was a man brought into this world by him, and everyone knew that he had the right to see me out of it.