You are (not) confused

Do I come back to him?

! no

no

.

Maybe I should. He looked a little heartbroken. Perhaps he wasn't happy. Did I make him unhappy? Did I do something wrong?

! mind your own business

go help him and find out what is wrong

.

Am I someone important to him?

! no

no

.

Who am I?

! nobody

nobody

.

Is there something malfunctioning in my system?

! just follow system procedure

get it fixed

You have fears. Three types of fears.

The one you are afraid having by experiencing it; the one you are afraid by hearing about it; or afraid of it the moment the image struck you.

I guess they all relate to me. I guess I've experienced them all.

I have been tricked into.

So far in my life; my fears, my angers, they all fuel my actions. I never put effort. I put satisfaction, determination, downcast. All of it, into my job. That's what makes a bad worker - use your heart and not your head. But alas, I've still got a roof to live under, appropriate clothes and enough to feed, and a little bit of extra here and there.

And I will surge my anger through this fist.

Thwack.

And I might seem small and slight. I know. I've always had been made fun out of. I was their source of jokes. But when I'm angry, it hurts like one motherfucker.

"Fuck!"

"This isn't what you've said it would be!" I screamed. I threw the man on the floor and knees his stomach, pinning his wrists with my arms all the while I spit at his face. "You told me you'd bring him back! You told me! This is not the tucking bargain!"

"W-Well, I-"

"And he doesn't even remember me! Liar! Liar!"

"Sir! Ackermann, sir. Please stop assaulting the man."

And his voice. His voice cracked me open.

Painfully reminded of him, my knees wobbled and I slumped down on the floor, blubbering. As I registered through my fog stimulated by my anger, I realised I was in one of these surgeon offices, with metal desks and papers scattered. I had somehow found my way to the same man that came upon my doorstep and had half a mind to kill him.

This is not what I have bargained for.

No...

Thump.

Is this a really good idea...?

! no

yes

.

I'll do it, anyway.

! no

no

.

You can't tell me what I can do and what I can't do! Leave!

! no

no

.

GO AWAY!

! no

no

.

Blacking out probably seem to become my habit now.

I slowly open my eyes, and cursed when a bright light offended my pupils.

And there's him, again.

I groaned, falling back to the surface material of what I've slept on.

... My room?

"How the hell do you know where I live?" I groaned. "Where the fuck did you get my keys, anyways?"

"I only checked the Society's Civilisation record, sir. Then I connected it along with my mapping system and installed the address to my navigation." 104 smiled. Then he looked away and scratched his head. "And as for your door..."

Probably kicked it open or crashed in, huh?

"Like I can give two fucks about that." I yawned.

I looked at him up and down again, getting a better look.

Now that he was properly dressed and his cables were sorted out properly, I couldn't even identify him as a robot or not. He looked... human. No, for real. He looked so much like a human I'd actually believe he is Eren.

And I somehow felt... ridiculously... happy...? Relieved? Glad?

NO. He is a robot. A programmed system. Just with Eren's memories and functions. He is not Eren.

But at the same time, it is Eren. He has Eren's mind installed within him. The same soul in a different body.

"... Unh...?"

I don't know why, but he came up to me and sat at the edge of the bed.

He looked a little... sad? Thoughtful?

His face inched closer... What is he doing...?

I could feel artificial breaths being breathed off from his mouth and nose, and it felt... human. Like human breaths. His fingers came up to my cheeks and caressed them with his thumb, his body weight leaning into my chest. He seemed to sigh and his face inched closer, and our foreheads press -

I looked into his eyes and he suddenly looked like something inside him snapped, and he instantly pulled away as if he'd touched a thorn on a rose stem. He looked absolutely petrified.

"I- I...I'll..." he cleared his throat awkwardly.

Does a robot even need to do that?

"I'll uh, fix the front door." he averted his eyes from my gaze. He quickly turned around and stormed downstairs, his whole system probably embarrassed.

Was that... Was that the real Eren?

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I'm not a machine.

! yes

yes

.

I love him. I do love him.

! you are a fucking robot

yes

.

I love him. I do love him.

! you are a fucking robot

yes

.

I love him. I do love him.

! you are a fucking robot

yes

.