A few weeks after that trip, Erwin became quite unreachable.

As for you, you took tremendous effort in leaving an impression to suffice with this body's previous lack of privilege. After university classes, you drop by Shiganshina High to assist Pyxis. Aside from mundane administrative tasks, you have to ensure that the school principal wouldn't spot his liquor; not only is it forbidden, but Pyxis spearheads the Prefect of Discipline. The dirty task was his only condition for you to stay under his wing despite the lack of credentials.

The prefect office was isolated at the lower ground of the school—just behind the highschool faculty—hence students are rarely spotted. Under circumstances that they are, it's either they're bruised in a fight or just smiling in anticipation because the guidance counselor, Frieda, has a lovely demeanor that endears the students so much to a point where they go visit her during breaktime.

Seeing the similar mundanity of this world and your original one somehow kept you in solace. This afternoon, only you and Pyxis are inside the room. He's staring at the large window behind him where kids are seen to be running, while you're stuck on the secretary table processing papers he entrusted you with.

"Today is a pleasant day, don't you think?" he sighed then sipped a drink on his iced tea bottle.

"Sir, everyone in the faculty knows how much you loathe that drink."

"I thought this would be the best option to conceal my liquor," the old man frowned, "they are of the same color."

"Iced tea doesn't turn faces red."

He initially responded with a burp, then chuckled. "Tell me about it."

"Please wash your face, Sir. The first thing Mr. Zackley would do upon knowing this ordeal is to fire me for tolerating it."

"Are you scared?" he jeered further, "Don't you worry. Erwin enhanced your reputation to the admin. I'm quite glad I took his suggestion of letting you stay, actually. Look how capable you are."

You chuckled without shooting him a look, "Don't try to stray the matter away by praising me. Just dispose of that bottle immediately."

"Tch, young people these days, being so stingy for nothing." he slouched on the table then, about to sleep. "Anyway, that young man, are you two a thing?"

You almost let your demeanor slip. I mean, not that I mind but— "What makes you think that?"

"Before convincing me to let you stay, I sometimes spot him at the cafe with you. His students have been grieving, you know? That young man's table is always full of chocolates no matter the holiday."

"Those chocolates came from his students?" you grimaced, "I thought he's just being kind when he says I look too sullen and that I need a sugar boost. Seems like he's just using me as a food trash bin."

"I was also made aware that you two went to Orvud two weeks ago. What's that long trip for?"

"Erwin's planning to go back to the university and enroll in masters. He's preparing research concerning early education inside foster homes. I came from one myself, hence I'm one of his subjects."

"Hm, he gave up his plan to pursue his studies ever since his father got sick. You sure you didn't become some source of motivation?"

"The only thing that could motivate that man to that extent is curiosity."

"Make sure to check on him, though. His students are assuming he's heartbroken given how sullen he looks , but…" this time Pyxis raised his head to shoot you a serious look, "I heard his father's condition got worse. Last time he even inquired about funeral services to me. I was a bit insulted but that's when I realized he's preparing for it—all by himself." There, you halted from what you were doing. "If Erwin is finally pursuing his studies, it's either he doesn't want his father to feel like he's being burdened by his disease, or he just wants to distract himself from the dread. If it's the latter, then I hope you could help him."

"How would I do that?"

The old man shrugged before napping for good, "Don't know. Surprise him. You said it's the curiosity that riles him up, after all."

And so you tried finding him. When your sight finally caught him again, an unconscious wide smile got plastered on your face. He was seated on a bench with a book in his hand.

He was staring at you the same; it's just that he was lacking a smile. It didn't render him as cold, though, because a hint of welcome laced his eyes. Oh, here you are. Finally having a great time? Or so it says.

Dropping the book to his lap, he examined your features as you walked. He covered one of his eyes with a palm, then uncovered it, then covered it again. By the time you reached him you already looked confused, "What are you on?"

He remained silent—his gaze fixed—then tapped the space beside him, urging you to sit.

Instead of asking why he's seemingly avoiding you since that trip, you checked in, "You okay, Commander?"

"I've been dreaming about that world." his voice was tired, utterly so. You tried to convince yourself it was just due to his class all day, but then the usual Erwin knows how to keep his demeanor despite exhaustion.

Was this sight making me uncomfortable? Why?

"Did the dreams get worse?"

"No matter where I look, I know everyone in that world and they belong here with me. You, on the other hand…" There, you realized why you're being uncomfortable. You used to be so desensitized with what he feels. You do not see whatever happening to him as real; you deem his feelings as valid but not enough to respect its veracity. You could joke it off, even. "You told me you could see that world, but who are you there, really?"

"I'm… no one. I can see that world like an audience from afar."

"Not even a titan that one of my greatest soldiers had killed?"

"Do I look like one?"

He shrugged, "Maybe I can ponder about it. Their faces etch my memory too well, after all."

"I'd literally cry if you do that," you sighed defeatedly. "I stay uninvolved all throughout. I'm just watching from nowhere. That's all. Why—"

"Well, like what? Like someone behind a television?"

Blood flushed your body cold. Not only did he guess it right, he also sounded completely displeased—sardonic, even. It was as if the ordeal was laid down to him without your knowledge, all despite your attempts to conceal it.

Or maybe…

"When you brought me home that night," you tried to hide the trepidation upon noticing his demeanor go darker, "and saw the documents at my table…"

"I offered to help you clean it; it didn't take me long to realize why you panicky refused."

There were no more words needed. You tried to open your mouth, though. You tried as you wanted to say that you see things in a different light now. You wanted to share the conspiracies stipulating the orphanage's owner and your world. You wanted to say that maybe there are bridges crossed that led you to this.

"I-I actually have—"

"I'm not asking you to explain."

You closed your mouth then.

"I'm not abrasive enough to blame you, too. If anything, you're nothing but another victim."

"I'm sorry."

"And your apologies will do nothing but piss me off."

You clenched your fists, hoping that'd help to tone down the anxiousness.

"Just let me confirm one thing."

"Go on."

"Am I going to die without knowing anything about that world?"

Your shoulders slumped and eyes went down the ground. Erwin caught that as he finally turned his gaze at you. "Yes."

"What's on the other side of the wall, then?"

"Humans."

"I see. Then how that world would end is already obvious."

"Of course," you sighed, "you're smart like that."

"How do people in your world construe our deaths?"

That, you didn't answer. It's not that you can't, you just won't. Not even if he forces you. The quite frustrating thing, however, is that Erwin knows you wouldn't hence he provokes further, "Was it irrelevant for them? Was it something to cry on for a minute before going to work?"

You didn't answer.

"Something to analyze, perhaps? When I started charging my comrades to death, did it spark a discourse whether I'm in the right or wrong?"

"Erwin…"

"Are there people thinking that it wasn't a big deal because my comrades were nothing but silly backgrounds?"

You didn't answer.

"Was my foolish projection for the death of my father left an impression of me being a heartless monster? Or were people pitying me to the core?"

"Stop!" you huffed quite too loudly. The people crossing by started looking subtly.

"Why? Did I hit a boundary?"

"I've been seeing things the different way since I woke up here, Erwin."

"I didn't say otherwise. My questions are not to attack you."

"You look so angry right now."

"Well, does it scare you?"

Realizing this talk will lead to nowhere, you stood up and gestured to leave. "I'm sorry you felt that way, but the fact that I'm here in front of you proves that the world couldn't just be enclosed with screens nor ink. That's why we're working together, right? So we could figure out how things work around."

But his face was utterly bleak, unamused, not even a hint of concurrence could be seen.

"Right?" your tone was nearing begging.

"I realized that I'm not that interested anymore. I think the answers I garnered are enough."

Oh.

"That would be fine for you, wouldn't it? I'm willing to compensate for the memories recalled back at Orvud. That's the least that I could do."

"No," you shook your head blankly with a tight-lipped smile, "You have nothing to compensate for because they aren't mine to begin with."

There was still this tiny doubt if you actually meant that but he just decided to nod, "I'm thankful for putting up with the burden, though. Is there something I could—"

"I said you don't have to do anything else. We don't have to bother seeing each other anymore, even." then finally turned your back, "Take care. I hope your father gets well soon. Pyxis told me about it. Don't let that world consume you. Deem it as nothing but silly nightmares."

You didn't let him say more afterward. That's what you'd like to think as well, after all. This world is a silly dream; perhaps you're just sick in your world and about to wake up soon.

The futile work of convincing, however, was shattered one day at the comic store. You intended to explore this world to gather clues. After all, the common ground of this one and yours is that you've seen most of the people here in fictional works. You prepared for the worst; maybe there would be a powerful vault or wormhole to bring you back. Maybe it'd cause this world to ruin—well, that was the worst you thought of.

You never saw the possibility of seeing a comic with you as its cover. It was apparently a new bestseller.

You tried to ground yourself through slow deep breaths and with shaking hands, you grabbed the book. Flipping the pages gave you the urge to rip it off. There goes your early life. You saw the struggles of your family—ones that even caused you an all-nighter weeping—in an introspective comedy. The first death you had encountered in your life was for shit and giggles.

Your inner thoughts, too: the first time you thought of dirty things, let alone exploring your body, the first time you wished for a classmate to die, the first time you fantasized of marrying your crush—it was all revealed. You were stripped naked, deprived of your agency; the feelings you deem valid all your life were trampled into bits. Your most embarrassing moments were awakened in the most tragic way.

When you went to the cashier to pay for it, you were already crying.

When you went to the faculty room the next day, you had two things at hand—one was the comic book and the other was a resignation letter. The comic book you dropped at Erwin's table while the resignation letter was given to Pyxis.

"Why all of a sudden?" the old man mused disappointingly when evening came, "Are you already fed up with hiding my liquor?"

"No," you let out a strained chuckle, "I just figured I couldn't balance studying and working at the same time. I'm considering settling on one part time job."

"I could just adjust your workload if you asked. You don't need to go all the way and quit."

You couldn't explain more, nothing but a defeated smile. You don't have coherent justification with your decision. All in mind was to stray away from all these characters because their existence—and the fact that they're characters—repulsed you, annoyed you, and angered you. The thought that you are one as well makes you want to leave to a place where you wouldn't recognize anyone.

"It would take time for the admin to approve this, though and I have yet to find a replacement. Would that be fine?"

You shot Pyxis a teasing look, "And when the previous month you kept on spurring that there are lots of better ones than me, huh."

With a sigh, he lightly hit your head with the paper. "I'm gonna have to talk to the faculty about this. After all, some of their workloads are assigned to you."

"Faculty? Does that mean—" Erwin will know? He might get the wrong idea—well no, what he could construe from this wouldn't be entirely wrong, but still.

"Did you perhaps… had a fight with Erwin? Is that why you wanted to quit?"

"What? No." He wasn't convinced so you added, "My world doesn't revolve around him, Sir."

However, maybe all would be well if your world just revolves around this man you used to admire from afar—you loathe that setup and trope yourself, but it's certainly a lesser evil than a life revolving around ink and satire.

"Well, since you're leaving, I might as well maximize your service." he handed a document and added, "Go to the conference room and give this to the organizing head for the upcoming parent-teacher conference."

"Who?"

"Don't know, but I think they're at the conference room right now. Just hand it to the first person you'll see."

"Copy."

Just before you could close the door, he called your name. "Think about it again. I'm willing to dispose of this letter and pretend I had received nothing. Just tell me so."

You shot him a genuine smile then, "To have a considerate boss like you is enough."

But then again, what would you expect of the sly Pyxis? Erwin is the organizing head and there's no one in the room but him. He's a bit taken aback at your presence, too. It seems like Pyxis told him something as well that led him here. He doesn't look angry anymore, though.

Were you supposed to feel relief at that?

No, the comic series drained all the potential relief you could gain in this world. You wouldn't be surprised if your listlessness stays for good. You even thought about what's happening right now; is someone orchestrating actions behind my back? Is my identity crisis right now a potential crack?

"This is my last job for today. I'll excuse myself now."

You turned your back but even before you could leave for good, he called your name. This time, his tone was gentle, "Are you okay?"

"Hm," you nodded, bit your lip, and attempted to remain in your composure. Don't shake. Don't shake. Don't shake. Don't shake. Cry on the bed upon going home. "J-just as usual."

"Sure?"

Did you expect he'd let you out, though? He was a commander for a reason.

Defeated, you decided not to answer and just walk away without a word. But again, he halted you down; not by your name this time around but by placing a hand on your head and saying, "The series was terrible. They made fun of you without any direction. Whatever you feel about that is valid."

Your lips started to shake. Still, you didn't turn your back so he wouldn't see your face, "Don't worry. I didn't have you read that to prove a point. I just want you to know that I understand where you're coming from during our last talk."

"We must talk about such heavy matters while facing each other at the very least, don't you think so?" He knew well that you were crying by now. And man, his remark didn't help. You really huffed a sob with that. "Would you look at me?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you muttered, hoping he'd finally let you go.

"Okay, but look at me first."

You fixed the creases on your facade before turning your back to face him. As soon as you did, however, Erwin brought you into his embrace. You let out a small huff in surprise but he just said, "Sorry. It seems to me that you needed to cry first."

As if that was the cue, you did it hard. It's as if your senses were begging you to do so after holding back so badly.

Most importantly, you cried upon realizing that there's still a familiar figure in the vast unknown you got stuck to. Despite all the possibilities of this world, the way he knew so much about you—more than anyone must—made you not ponder if this was something dictated by an author with horrendous imagination.

"I apologize for that day."

"You were so angry at me that I couldn't help but get angry too," your voice cracked, "e-especially upon seeing that trash."

"But that's why we're working together—so we could figure out how things work around."

"You said you're not interested anymore."

"I was in denial."

"Well, I am too. I'm not interested anymore."

"I'm quite capable of convincing you."

"Try and find out."

He huffed a small chuckle before tapping on your back so you'd be encouraged to weep further. "I'll try after you're done crying."

This time the weeps were quite in relief; the solace offered you a space to lower your guard somehow.

Perhaps you could work around this disposition without running away from them.