A/N: IT'S TIME
Under the watchful eye of the moon, Eren set off down the river, a skein of yarn in one hand and his camera in the other. There was a thrill to the thought of discovering what lay hidden in the forest at night, but he was unwilling to jump to a direct investigation of the gashes before first testing the extent of the truth in Erwin's telling of the legend.
He couldn't explain what exactly called to him from the forest. There was an inexplicable allure to the mystery of the creature, now more than ever, considering the apparent impunity in which he could investigate with; if what Erwin said was true, he would emerge from the forest unscathed. Armin was adamantly opposed to the next planned visit, however, until Eren agreed to venture down the river only.
The bends at which its river was most tranquil was virtually silent under the endless cries of wildlife. Eren soon spotted a patch of sand and underbrush that had recently been disturbed. The indents of several footprints were barely recognizable in the large patch of wet, clumped sand, as if something had emerged from the river and disappeared into the forest.
With his heart hammering in his chest, he tied the yarn around a tree root that protruded through the underbrush and ventured inwards. Thick splatters of blood marred the ground and the leaves until they grew into wet, glistening smears at the bases of a few trees. They twisted and turned until finally, Eren came across a matted lump that had been poorly hidden by the underbrush.
A few leaflets clung to the body of the deer, curling alongside the deep laceration that had dug into its abdomen. Blood wept from the wounds, long and unnervingly jagged, rancid enough to make Eren step back with a grimace.
He looked up and around at the trees that surrounded him. They stretched out into the patchy canopy, unmoving in the deafening silence that surrounded him, as suffocating as the corpse was. The hairs at the back of his neck stood, a chill clawing its way down his spine, but no matter where he cocked his head, he could see nothing but the insouciant void of the forest.
He looked down at the skein in his hands, carefully looping the yarn between two trembling fingers with each few steps that he took. The first thing he noticed was the considerable lack of resistance in the yarn - then, not too far from the corpse, he discovered the frayed remains of the yarn, a few threads of it hanging off the rough tree bark.
With blood rushing in his ears, he let out a breathless curse and searched fruitlessly for the remainder of the yarn. He was only met by the unrecognizable mass of trees and underbrush with each direction he stepped out towards. He rushed down where he thought he saw a smear of blood, his labored breaths lingering in his ears, his heartbeat louder than the leaves he crushed under his foot, until he heard a sharp rustle in the bushes next to him.
He abruptly stopped. There was nothing he could see in the void, nothing but the shadows of the trees and bushes, and distantly, he heard more rustling, growing further away with each passing second. It was deliberate, insistent, as if calling to him, urging him forwards. He took a hesitant step towards the sound.
It felt like hours, pressing one tentative foot past the other, slowly progressing towards the rustling of leaves that could be heard some ways ahead of him. It felt like an eternity, following whatever it was through the forest, never once coming near to it but also never falling far behind. He took a sharp turn, and soon, the low rush of water replaced the rustling.
Just before he reached the river, he spotted the yarn, stretching past the bushes and into the forest. He looked over his shoulder, again met by nothing, his ears picking up the faintest cries of wildlife that slowly started to melt back into the night. He let out an incredulous laugh.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Eren had told Armin from where he sat fixing a band-aid over his thigh on the couch. "It's like - every time I think I've figured it out, something else comes up to prove me wrong. It's killing me."
One thing that remained painfully unclear to Eren was whether this so-called legend was a physical entity or a spiritual one. It was an enigma, truly - the gashes, the corpse, the silhouette he saw near Armin's home, the contradictions in each telling of the legend. What was most infuriating was that he didn't even have a plan. He could only wonder, forever shrouded in a perpetual blanket of confusion, until he either gave up on the mystery or forgot it ever existed, just as he did when he left Shiganshina.
Armin had been in the kitchen that morning, rummaging around for a matching set of mugs, the strong scent of coffee lingering heavily in the air. He told Eren off-handedly, "All conventional methods are off the table, too. I mean, it's not like you can just catch the damn thing, right?"
It was meant to be a joke, Eren knew, but he still considered the idea.
The shopkeeper had been enthusiastic with his recommendations. He directed Eren over to a particularly low shelf nearby, fingers tracing the smooth edges of the trap slowly, delicately as he griped something about coyotes, about pests, about how to handle them. And Eren listened regardless, becoming increasingly impatient until he finally left some time later with a few traps and carefully worded directions on how to set them.
What was more infatuating than the mystery, Eren realized, was the idea of finally solving it once and for all. Part of him acknowledged that this was most likely a futile effort, and what he would catch would be nothing more than the prey that the hunters already frequently brought home. The other part of him lingered on the evidence that he had acquired, on the simultaneous thrill and dread that clung to him with each passing glance to the forest past sundown, and with some mild encouragement from Armin, he finally set out early one morning to execute his plan.
The sun had barely started to peek over the horizon, its weak rays of light coalescing with the clear sky to form a soft pink above him that disappeared behind the trees. He carefully navigated through the path until he came to the familiar bend that would lead him back to the river in just a few hours.
He set the traps sporadically on his way there, and when he was done, he followed the thin, gnarled path back to the river. At the end of the path, he could vaguely recognize the figure that sat at the edge of the water. It was somehow both a surprise and a welcome relief when he met with Levi, who was wearing the same oversized and paint-stained shirt as he was when they first met.
"Fancy meeting you here," Eren cheekily greeted.
At Levi's side, there was a paper bag that Eren recognized from the shop he visited a day prior. Levi pulled the bag closer to himself, sighing, "I live here, you brat."
"So," Eren started. "What've you got there?"
Levi gave him an exasperated look. "Stop being nosy."
"Yeah, and you looked through my camera, so I think it's a fair trade."
A small laugh left Levi's lips; it was gentler than the smooth stream of water that he had dipped his feet into, more breathtaking than the sunrise that accompanied Eren early that morning into the forest. Eren settled next to him, yearning to say anything and everything at once, but he instead lingered on the small smear of yellow that he caught along Levi's sharp jawline.
"It's paint," Levi said when he met Eren's eye. He tilted his head towards the bag. "For a project I'm thinking of starting on next."
"Oh? Something like. . . ?"
Levi glanced up towards the other side of the river. He answered wistfully, "A landscape, I think."
Eren followed his line of sight, focusing on the few rocks that protruded from the water. "What's your inspiration this time, then? The river?"
"No." He was quiet, tentative; a few moments passed by ever so slowly, and he finally said, "It's your eyes." Eren couldn't breathe, couldn't think when Levi admitted further, "I can see the forest in your eyes."
"My eyes. . . ." Eren repeated numbly.
He craved the feeling of Levi's lips pressed against his own, to perhaps reach out and run his fingers against the smooth, pale skin as if to prove that he was real. That he wasn't an enigma that Eren could only dream of, that he was somehow within Eren's reach. He drowned in the silver of Levi's eyes, and he could only stare, every word he could possibly utter refusing to leave the tip of his tongue.
Levi abruptly turned away. He pulled one foot out of the water, hooked his fingers over the threaded handle of his bag, and only then did Eren realize with a jump in his heart that he hadn't responded.
Before Levi could escape, before he could disappear into the forest with naught more than a whisper of the breeze, Eren said, "Wait, Levi -"
Levi's brow furrowed, more from confusion than from annoyance. He slowly settled back down onto the sand. "What do you want?"
Eren's breath caught in the back of his throat. He couldn't formulate any response, his only guilty admission tumbling out of his mouth, "I want to kiss you."
For the first time, Levi's countenance displayed more than the enigmatic mask that he had adopted. A helpless noise left Eren, and in the wake of silence between them, he caught himself and hurriedly said, "Wait, I'm - I didn't -" He peered into the water, struggling to find anything to focus on that wasn't Levi. "I'm sorry, I - I wasn't thinking -"
A warm, gentle touch at Eren's temple brought his stammering to a screeching halt. Levi's hand ghosted over his own as he pulled away just the slightest bit, voice low in Eren's ear as he murmured, "You talk too much."
"You know, I actually can't decide if your plan is dumb or not."
Eren looked up to where Armin was lounging against the couch, clutching a pillow over his chest. "You're supposed to support me." He placed a few bandages that he had set out on the table into his duffel bag. "I thought that was what best friends were for."
Armin didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse, bringing Eren to talk to Erwin that day at the library, but eventually, he gave in to the plan, albeit reluctantly. He stretched out and turned over, tucking the pillow under his chin, watching him pack his supplies away.
"I support you, but I'm still gonna call you dumb. That's what best friends are for. And anyways . . ." His voice faltered, and when Eren turned to address him, he carefully asked, "What're you gonna do if you find something?"
Truth be told, Eren hadn't thought about it. There was the undeniable allure of discovering what truly lay hidden in the forest, and what he saw the other night, hidden amongst the trees, dense and unmoving, did not dampen the urge the slightest bit. He didn't think he'd be able to ignore the whispers from the forest for very much longer, even if he hadn't taken an interest to begin with.
Eren slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, setting his hand over the pocket where he knew his camera lay. He settled with a heavy sigh, "I'll tell you all about it! Then you'll be morally and contractually obligated to give me a share of the profit when you write another book about it."
Armin rolled his eyes. There was still the gleam of worry on his face, in the furrow of his brow and the indent where he had been biting his lip, but he didn't protest any further.
The forest, as always, was as loud at night - if not louder - than it was during the day. It was soothing, encouraging, but even as they lulled and came to a gradual stop, Eren continued on. He didn't know how long he was out there for, stepping as carefully as he could past each obstruction of the path, focused only on the forest ahead of him before the cacophony finally ceased.
He had brought the lantern with him this time. It illuminated the path before him with a warm, honeyed glow, the heat of it melting through his gloves hand and seeping into his jacket. His skin prickled, the hairs at his nape standing, and against his better judgement, he looked over his shoulder. He was greeted by the insouciant void of the forest.
He knew, by the yarn that he had tied on a tree root close by, that the first of many traps he had set was nearby. He continued onwards, slowly, the biting urge to look over his shoulder and spot whatever it was that stalked him steadily becoming too unbearable to ignore. Some time passed with him progressing down the path, passing by another trap or two, and eventually, he started to consider it a failure. But, at the very least, it was entertaining when it lasted.
He stopped in his tracks. He lowered the lantern, looking up to the patchy canopy where the moon was hidden, and decided to head back. It was then, almost as if on cue, that he heard the unmistakable spring of the trap trigger and snap. Accompanying that was a strangled sound, somewhere between a shout and a yelp.
Eren's breath rattled in his chest, deafening in the yawning silence of the forest, and slowly, he turned to face where he heard the noise. His legs refused to move, eyes wide and incredulous, until he heard the rattle of a chain and the frantic shuffling against the underbrush. He cautiously stepped forward, uncertainty and anticipation pooling in his gut, and entered through the underbrush.
The lantern shed light upon the barely concealed line of string that he had pressed into the dirt and hidden amongst the leaves. He followed it to the small clearing hidden between two thick oak trees, the breath he didn't know he had been holding forcing its way out when he lifted the lantern to look into the clearing.
A familiar set of silver eyes glared up at him. They were bright, almost white, and in the lamplight, skin deathly pallid and tinted a warm yellow, Levi sat curled in the dirt. One leg was outstretched to accomodate for the trap that clamped around his ankle, the skin around it weeping a deep, ugly red. Eren caught the slight movement of Levi's hand retracting from where it had gripped the peg that the trap had been pinned to, something incredulous welling in his chest at the sight of thick, white claws.
Levi folded his arm inward, over his lap, while the other kept him upright. Black fur covered his hands and wrists, melting into a soft gray as it tapered off and disappeared just below his elbows. Neither of them moved, the world seemingly stuck on its axis, refusing to spin for even a moment as they merely stared. Eren was the first to move; he took a step forward, and his heart sped faster as Levi's pupils rapidly dilated. Levi's lip contorted back into a grimace, revealing pointed canines, a low growl reverberating from the back of his throat.
"Levi?"
He didn't respond. Eren took another slow, tentative step forward, some part of him alight with hope and yearning alike, but another harsh growl made him flinch back. Another eternity passed between them, the idle flicker of the flame in the lantern mesmerizing in a way.
Eren startled when he heard Levi say, "So?"
His brow furrowed. He ached to step forward, to speak, to scream, to do something, but he could only stay rooted where he stood. He swallowed thickly, mouth dry, and rasped, "What?"
"So?" Levi repeated, another low, clicking growl lacing his voice. "What happens now?"
His lip was still contorted back into a grimace, his eyes blown wide and glassy, as if he were an animal, caged and hopelessly cornered by a hunter. Eren vaguely realised that, in a way, he was an animal - an animal, a creature that had been hidden in the woods, leaving so many careless clues behind. A creature that had stalked Eren that night, and most likely every other night, never lingering too far behind.
Through the rush of blood in his ears, he managed to take a slow, tremulous breath. He tried softly, "Levi."
The fluffy ears atop Levi's head perked up at the name. Relief washed down his spine, lapped at the fear that still remained clinging to his shoulders, and he took another slow breath. The initial shock of the discovery hadn't faded yet; perhaps it would always be there, reinforced by the sight of tapered claws and sharpened teeth, but the gentle, enigmatic familiarity that was Levi would never fade.
He glanced downwards towards the trap again. His stomach sank at the sight of the sickening indent where metal met the ankle, the skin rapidly bruising under it. He opened his mouth, a helpless noise leaving him, and clicked it shut before trying again, but he couldn't speak past the tight clench of guilt that glued his throat shut.
"Levi, I . . ." Eren held his breath. "I didn't -" Weakly, he stepped forward, another growl ripping through the air, but he didn't dare shy away. "Let me - let me get you out of there, at least." He met Levi's eye, ensnared by the deep abyss that analyzed every movement, and whispered, "Please, Levi."
The grimace slipped right off his face, and in its stead was the same hopeless look of confusion as the one he wore when Eren admitted to wanting a kiss. He remained motionless when Eren approached him, eyes following every movement, naught but a soft grunt leaving him when Eren took a hold of the trap.
Eren fought to keep his hands steady. His heart pounded in his chest, his head spun, his breath caught in his throat, but nevertheless, he managed to disarm the trap. With one leg steadying the latch, Eren pulled the mouth open, and the moment the metal had parted from the skin, Levi scrambled away. He tried to rise to his feet, but he tripped and srambled back until he was pressed against a tree.
One of his ears twitched. While he had managed to maintain a relatively impassive expression, something bright and incredulous shone in his eyes. He breathlessly asked, "Why?"
Eren's brow furrowed. "Why what?"
Levi watched closely as Eren settled down against the dirt on his knees, bringing them back to eye level. He curled in on himself further, asking again, "Why did you let me go?"
"Why did I . . . ?" Eren trailed off, hopelessly lost. He gestured vaguely, the sudden action bringing the slightest curl to Levi's lip, and settled lamely, "Because it's - it's awful, Levi, it's . . ."
"Awful," Levi spat out lowly, "because we've met before, right? And somehow that's the only thing that makes this awful, isn't it, jackass?"
"That's not what I -" He cut himself off with a frustrated hiss. "Levi, look, I just - I don't know what I was expecting when I came out here, okay? All I knew was that there was something here, a creature or monster or whatever, and it would eat whoever entered the forest or some bullshit like that. Or at least that's what I thought I knew, but every single person I've talked to has a different story about it, and I didn't know what to believe anymore."
A breeze brushed past them. A few leaves skittered past, the branches high above them sighing as it passed. Eren spotted the tail that curled under one of Levi's legs, thick and hopelessly fluffy. Glancing back upwards, he could still see the hesitance that weighed Levi's shoulders, the blatant suspicion that melted into the air between them.
"I'm not here to - to expose you, or to catch you, or - or any of that. I just. . . . I'm sorry."
Eren averted his gaze towards the lantern, watching as the flame danced. He wished it wasn't so quiet. He wished he could hear something beyond his own steadily slowing heartbeat, beyond the whispers of the forest, beyond the twigs and leaves that crunched beneath him.
"I don't."
Eren glanced back upwards. Levi's face had softened, his eyes once again shining a stunning silver, and finally, Eren could let go. He could relax, take in Levi for what he was, and yearn, as he always did, to lean in and kiss him. He recognized the oversized shirt that Levi wore, the stains on them, how small he looked drowning in it, how perfect it was, and by God, Eren couldn't breathe.
He prompted eagerly, "You don't . . . ?"
"Eat people," Levi answered. There was an air of hilarity in his tone, as if it were the most ludicrous thing he could have been accused of. "That wasn't ever really my thing."
Eren edged closer, looking for any sign of discomfort, but Levi never gave him one. "So . . . what actually happens to the people who come here at night?"
"Usually, nothing." Levi rest back against the tree bark, head tilted back to reveal the smooth, tantalizing column of his throat, as if staring up at something that Eren could not hope to see. "I don't fuck with people. If they're lost, I get them to where they need to be. Whatever stupid-ass problems they get themselves into while they're here isn't my fault, either."
"So the nights I came here. Were you . . . ?" Levi's eyes flicked towards him, then quickly elsewhere, the discomfort in his demeanor strikingly guilty. Eren huffed, "You didn't have to be a creep about it, you know. You could have just walked with me."
Levi clenched his jaw. He asked, "Like this?"
There was a slight strain in his voice. Eren glanced back down to his forearms, the claws that rest gently in his lap, the tail that he could see peeking out from behind his leg, and he confidently answered, "Yeah. Just like that."
Eren later decided that the quick flash of Levi's canines in his smile was, by far, the most breathtaking smile he'd ever received.