October 2019

Armin hurried through the bustling corridors of the hospital, his mind swirling with tasks and patients to see. He desperately needed to request some time off, especially given the current situation.

His steps faltered at the thought, but he shook it off and pushed forward. Eren would likely be discharged soon; physically, he seemed healthy. There was little reason to keep him in the hospital any longer.

Yet, fear gnawed at him. What would they do if Eren didn't begin to regain his memories? There were no miracle drugs for this—no medication for amnesia. They could consider consulting an occupational therapist or enrolling in a support group to connect with others with similar experiences.

However, all these options depended on Eren's willingness to seek help, which might prove challenging.

Eren had been awake for two days now, and he was… less than cooperative.

As Armin rounded a corner, exchanging warm smiles and quick hellos with the nurses, he suddenly froze.

In a quiet corner near Eren's room, just off to the side, sat Mikasa. She was curled up against the wall, knees drawn tightly to her chest, her head bowed low, obscuring her expression. Armin's heart ached at the sight.

"Oh, Mikasa, why are you out here by yourself? Is Eren sleeping or something?" he wondered aloud as he leaned in to peek through the window of room 104.

Eren lay in bed, wide awake but staring off into space, boredom etched across his features.

Armin furrowed his brows, a sense of unease settling over him. Trying to maintain a casual demeanour, he crouched down in front of Mikasa, careful to keep his white coat off the floor.

"Hey, Mikasa… Is everything okay?"

When she raised her gaze to meet his, his heart tightened painfully in his chest. Mikasa never cried, especially not in public. But the redness around her eyes and the tightness of her lips came as close as she could get to crying without actually shedding tears.

"He told me to cut my hair because it's throwing him off." Her voice was emotionless, almost hollow. "And I nearly went through with it. I can't believe I actually considered it. It made me so angry with myself."

Armin felt the weight of those words settle heavily in the air. Although it seemed trivial, he knew it carried deep emotions and traumas.

This was something that had gone unnoticed for a long time: the invisible hold Eren had on Mikasa, something neither of them fully realized. It was a connection that both of them had to work hard to overcome.

Except, now Eren didn't remember working on it at all.

Armin really didn't know what to say.

But Mikasa wasn't finished; she pressed on:

"I miss him. He's right there, but I feel like he's so far away. It's as if I'm watching a memory from long ago. I know I should be grateful that he's alive and healthy, but… god, I'm being so selfish, aren't I?"

"It's not selfish at all," Armin quickly reassured her, urgency fueling his words. "It's just… an awful situation…"

"I don't even know how to approach him," she confessed, frustration creeping into her tone. "Whenever I think he'll react one way, he does the opposite. And he gets so angry so quickly, Armin. I... I don't remember it being that bad."

"I guess we were just used to it. We never expected anything different."

Truthfully, back then, neither Armin nor Mikasa fully grasped the weight of Eren's burden—not until he finally stopped. It was like the old analogy about the frog in the pot; if you raise the temperature gradually, the frog won't notice the danger until it's too late. But now, after years of knowing a more stable version of Eren and suddenly being confronted with his old self, they were definitely feeling the heat of that boiling water.

"I don't want to get used to this again. I-I had forgotten how callously he used to treat me… Was it really that bad, and did I just go along with it?" Mikasa's voice trembled, and Armin felt a pang in his chest.

It echoed the heartache he'd felt years ago.

There was no denying Eren's love for Mikasa—she was his sister, his protector. Yet even Armin could see how Eren had taken her for granted over the years. The coldness in his words, the way he often dismissed her feelings. Just like with his anger, they hadn't noticed how badly Eren was treating Mikasa until he started treating her better. It wasn't until that day when Eren reached out, genuinely hugged her, and expressed gratitude for her unwavering support that they all realized how truly terrible things had been before. That day—almost six years ago—was etched in Armin's memory as the second and last time he ever saw Mikasa Ackerman cry.

"What can we even do now? I know we tried to help him, but it was Levi who first got through to him, and now…" She couldn't finish her thought, and tears threatened to spill from Armin's eyes as he understood.

He witnessed firsthand the chaos that erupted when Eren learned about Levi and their relationship. The denial, the rage—Eren had hurled accusations and called them liars. The brutal names he'd thrown at Levi still haunted Armin's mind. He was so glad Levi wasn't in the room for that. After Dr. Nanaba's stern warnings about stressing Eren, he and Mikasa had vowed to steer clear of that particular topic, which led to…

"Eren still refuses to see him?" Armin asked, dread lacing his words.

Mikasa winced at the question.

"He won't even talk about him. Levi doesn't go near him anymore—he knows Eren wants him away."

"Where is Levi, anyway?" Armin inquired, searching for a distraction from the heaviness in the air.

Mikasa shrugged.

"He was outside somewhere. I saw him about an hour ago. He said he needed some fresh air… also mentioned how this hospital is disgusting and that he can't believe Arlert is working in this 'barn.'" She mimicked Levi's tone perfectly, a hint of a smile flickering on her lips for a moment.

Armin chuckled softly.

"He's not exaggerating, you know? This place is crawling with germs. You probably shouldn't be sitting on the floor, Mikasa. Come on, get up."

He rose from his crouch, extending his hand to her. She took it reluctantly, and he watched with concern as she swayed, struggling to steady herself against the wall. She seemed frailer than usual, her strength fading, and he hesitated to ask how many hours of sleep she'd managed recently.

"I need to check on Eren now. Want to come with me?" he offered gently.

A flicker of shame crossed Mikasa's face. She crossed her arms tightly around herself, her head bowed as if trying to hide from Armin's gaze.

"I already went to see him… about half an hour ago. I only lasted five minutes before I had to leave."

Armin felt a pang of sympathy as he saw Mikasa's miserable expression. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"How is he?" he asked, already bracing himself for the answer.

Mikasa shrugged, her expression unreadable.

"He's angry. I wouldn't answer any of his questions, and he thinks it's ridiculous that we want a psychiatrist involved in his private business."

Armin's heart sank further. This was another fallout from Eren's explosive reaction to Levi's situation. They had all agreed that any significant information about Eren—especially the memories he had lost—needed to be delivered gently, ideally with a trained professional present to help navigate the emotional turbulence.

But there was more to it than that, a truth Armin kept close to his chest for many reasons. In a way, the need for a psychiatrist had become his fault. Typically, Eren would have seen a standard psychologist for routine check-ups, but Armin, with Eren's best interests at heart, had tried to reach out to the psychiatrist who had worked with Eren before the accident. The one who had prescribed the benzodiazepines that were swirling in his system when they first brought him in.

Except… there was a problem.

Armin's little investigation had revealed a startling truth: there were no records of Eren ever seeing a psychiatrist in the area. This left him with a chilling possibility: Eren either found someone way out of town, went under a different name, or—Armin shuddered at the thought—self-medicated.

The chain of events led to Dr. Laude becoming involved in Eren's case, intrigued by the potential connection between benzodiazepines and Eren's memory issues. And now, because of that, Eren was stuck with a psychiatrist, which he certainly did not take well.

"It's for his own good," Armin muttered, trying to convince both Mikasa and himself, though doubt nagged at his heart.

"I don't think he sees it that way…" Mikasa's voice trailed off as her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She pulled it out of her pocket, the screen flashing with an unsaved number. With a huff of annoyance, she slammed her finger on the reject button, her frustration palpable.

Armin couldn't help but give her a questioning glance when she tucked the phone back away.

Mikasa sighed deeply, her fatigue evident.

"It's one of our clients… well, an ex-client. She's been relentless, bombarding us with calls."

Armin blinked in surprise.

"Can't you just block her number?"

Mikasa shrugged, her disinterest clear.

"She keeps buying new burner phones. It's honestly not worth the effort. I think this is her latest one—I never picked up."

"Then how do you know it's her?"

"She spammed me with photos of her missing girlfriend and then called me a heartless bitch. It's definitely her."

"Her girlfriend's missing?" Armin's brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah, for about two weeks now," she replied, her voice flat, as if the weight of the situation barely registered.

"Shouldn't the police be involved?" Armin ventured, feeling somewhat naive. Surely, tracking down a missing person was a police matter?

"She did go to them. But they refused to take the case, saying there's no sign of foul play. The girlfriend is over 18, so apparently she has the 'right to go missing,' according to the cops."

Armin hesitated. "But if the police don't think anything's wrong, why is this woman so…?"

"I don't want to dive into this right now, Armin," Mikasa interrupted, her voice suddenly sharp. Though quiet, her words cut through the air, and Armin found himself taken aback.

"Right, sorry. I shouldn't pry… it's probably inappropriate, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head, embarrassment creeping in.

Mikasa let out a heavy sigh, her defences lowering.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just… I feel guilty for ignoring this case. But I also know there's no way we can handle it right now. Levi and I aren't in the right headspace. We're not even actively working on anything, which pains me to admit, but I just can't. And I can't shake the thought of Eren... Our Eren…" Her voice faltered, emotion choking her words. "He would be so disappointed in us for just... letting this slide."

Armin stood there, at a loss for words. Instead, he placed a reassuring hand on Mikasa's shoulder. She leaned into the warmth of his touch, the silence between them stretching until she broke it with a heavy sigh.

"You know, this was the case Eren was working on when he got hurt. He was obsessed with finding that Historia girl—wouldn't stop talking about it. Both Levi and I were nearly driven insane. We've been wondering… maybe that's why he was in those woods that night? He even sent Levi that text, 'Got a lead. I'll be home late.' It might not be related at all, but deep down... I can't help but blame this Historia for what happened to him. Is it terrible to think that?"

Armin felt her shiver beneath his hand, and his heart ached for her. He felt so helpless, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, listen, it's completely normal to search for answers when something awful happens. I mean, isn't that what your job is all about?" he said, trying to sound casual. "Just because you have some dark thoughts doesn't make you a bad person, Mikasa. Nobody's perfect. Look at Eren, for example."

A soft laugh escaped her lips at that, a brief flicker of light in the heavy moment.

"Speaking of Eren—I should get going. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

Mikasa paused, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she let out a disappointed sigh.

"No, I think I need to find Levi. Ymir is probably blowing up his phone, too. We need to talk this through. Plus, he shouldn't be left alone for too long."

Armin nodded, sadness creeping into his gaze. It was hard to tell who needed more support at that moment—Eren or Levi.

"Yeah, it makes sense for us to split up. One for Eren, one for Levi. We can meet later and swap reports," he said, raising his hand in a mock salute that earned him a smile from Mikasa.

As he turned to leave, her voice pulled him back.

"Hey, Armin," she called, her expression tight with worry as she bit her lip.

"If Eren asks why I left so early… please tell him I'm not mad at him or anything," she added, her eyes pleading for reassurance.

Armin gave her a smile.

"I'll let him know," he promised. Just before he parted, Mikasa turned serious.

"Good luck in there."

Armin nodded, silently hoping he wouldn't need it.

…Armin most definitely did need it.

"You don't have to pull that crap on me, Armin. I don't want your fake-ass attitude."

All Armin had done so far was say, "Good morning."

He tried to be understanding. The hospital was a suffocating place, filled with the smell of antiseptic and the repetitive sounds of monitors ticking away. People came in to probe and ask invasive questions at every corner. Nurses and doctors woke patients at random times throughout the night to perform all kinds of duties. The hospital could be a stressful place. Still...

"I'm just trying to be nice," Armin replied, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Well, stop! It's annoying. Everything is already fucked up without you acting weird around me. Just be yourself—whoever that is now. I mean, after ten years, you could be a totally different person. I'm apparently a whole different person now. Not that I get to find out who I am since you keep dodging my questions!"

A flicker of guilt coursed through Armin. He hated that he couldn't answer all of Eren's questions at once. He desperately wanted to share everything about the person he had become, hoping that something in there would reignite the memories swirling in Eren's mind. But he had to trust the experts who knew better than he did.

"That's a lot of emotions for the first thing in the morning, Eren. Maybe you could..."

"Oh yeah? Then tell your friends to stop barging in here at the crack of dawn if they want me to stop being cranky."

"They need to check your vitals regularly..."

"I feel fine! I don't need my vitals checked!"

Armin let out a heavy sigh, attempting to rein in his frustration.

"Listen, Eren, I understand you're feeling overwhelmed, and that's completely normal. I wish I could answer all your questions, but I really have to stick to Dr. Lauda's instructions..."

"That psychologist? Total wack-job..."

"Actually, she's a psychiatrist..."

"Same difference. I don't like her."

Armin took a deep breath.

This wasn't entirely Eren's fault. Eren was battling his own demons, and Armin reminded himself to be compassionate.

Moving almost on instinct, he approached the IVs, searching for something to occupy his hands while the words spun in his mind like a mantra.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Like twenty nurses have already checked that today. It's fine!" Eren snapped, frustration lacing his tone.

"I'm just trying to do my job, Eren," Armin replied calmly. "So is everyone else here."

Eren huffed, his irritation palpable. But Armin pressed on, determined to break through the tension.

"It's crucial for the medical team to know about any changes in your condition as they happen. This helps us assess the situation accurately, which is vital for finding the right treatment…"

"See? That! That's exactly my point! Why do you have to talk so weird?!"

Armin sighed inwardly, gathering his composure.

"I talk like a doctor, Eren."

"More like a pompous asshole," Eren shot back, venom in his words.

Taking a deep breath, Armin tried to center himself.

This wasn't entirely Eren's fault. He reminded himself that Eren was going through a whirlwind of emotions and he needed to remain steady.

"Fine, be angry if you want," Armin finally conceded, trying to defuse the situation. He had dealt with difficult patients before; Eren was no exception. "You can be mad at Dr. Laude, at me, or at Mikasa. Just know we're not trying to keep anything from you to be cruel or cause you pain. I really wish I could share every detail of the last ten years with you. I understand this must be incredibly confusing… but we can't overwhelm you. We just don't want a repeat of your reaction to Levi…"

"Oh, for the love of—shut up about that guy already!" Eren interrupted, his voice rising.

Armin felt a jolt at Eren's words; the genuine anger flared in his eyes. This wasn't mere annoyance; it was something deeper—raw and fierce.

"I know he's always fucking here, you know?" Eren continued, unfazed by the tension that crackled between them. "I can see him lounging in the hallway. Is he a fucking stalker or what?"

Armin winced internally. No, Eren, he's not a stalker. He's your boyfriend. The words hung on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to swallow them back.

"He's just worried about you, Eren," Armin said gently. "He's not trying to make you uncomfortable. He's keeping his distance, just like you asked. He didn't even come inside, even though he really, really wants to…"

"Oh really? He really wants to? Because he cares, right? Because he's my boyfriend?" Eren shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes rolled so dramatically that Armin half-wondered if they would pop right out of his head.

Armin shuffled awkwardly, caught off guard by Eren's reaction.

"Well, um, yes?"

A frustrated huff escaped Eren. Armin thought to himself that Mikasa was right; he had forgotten just how quick-tempered Eren used to be.

"He's not my boyfriend," Eren declared with fierce conviction. "Thomas is my boyfriend! And where the hell is he?"

That threw Armin for a loop. Thomas… It took him a moment to picture the blond guy with distinctive sideburns who always wore those loose sports tees. He was more of a background figure from their high school days—a face that hadn't crossed Armin's mind in ages.

"Thomas Wagner?" he ventured. "You haven't seen him in years. You didn't even want to keep in touch after high school. And he wasn't really your boyfriend, Eren. You two were just…"

…Screwing around.

"Having fun?" he corrected himself, opting for a more delicate phrasing.

"Well, I'd rather have him here than… than that guy!" Eren exclaimed, his tone dripping with disdain as he gestured dismissively at an imagined rival.

"How old is that guy, anyway?" Eren pressed, still bristling. "He looks older than us."

"Yeah, he's eight years older."

Eren's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the… that's a lot older!"

Armin sighed, unsure of how to respond.

"Not really. It never bothered you before."

Eren huffed, indignant. "That's a lot older!" he insisted as if it were a fact chiselled in stone.

Armin let out another sigh, caught in nostalgia and confusion. It felt surreal to be in this position, defending an age gap between Levi and Eren instead of the other way around, just like they had all those years ago. How everything had changed.

"How did I even meet him? I have nothing in common with that guy."

Armin bit his tongue. There was no way for Eren to know that; he had been dodging Levi like he was a deadly virus. This was the first time Eren had even hinted at wanting to know something about Levi, which made Armin a bit hesitant.

Dr. Laude had instructed him not to reveal any significant information to Eren without her presence and to avoid sharing too much at once.

But did this qualify? Fighting against his own thoughts, Armin wrestled with whether this was crucial information. Should he share it only after consulting with Dr. Laude?

Taking a leap of faith, he finally replied, "He was your training officer once… at the Academy. A combat instructor for your police training. That's how you two met."

Eren's eyes went wide, disbelief etched across his face, and he nearly toppled out of bed in outrage.

"What the hell, Armin?!" he roared, his voice brimming with fury. "You watched some old superior officer prey on me, and what—cheered him on? What the hell is wrong with you? That's a total porno plot, Armin! How could you just let this happen?!"

"Eren, please, just shut the hell up!"

The words escaped Armin before he could rein them in, surprising even himself. At that moment, however, Eren fell silent, the fire in his eyes momentarily extinguished. Seizing the opportunity to clarify, Armin steadied his voice and spoke up.

"He wasn't really your supervising officer. He briefly trained you in hand-to-hand combat, but he wasn't even part of your police force. If I remember correctly, he annoyed his military supervisor and ended up stuck training people as punishment. You never worked together as officers after that…"

Eren shot back, "Long enough for him to fucking groom me."

A chill ran down Armin's spine at Eren's words. It shattered his heart to hear him speak about their relationship like that.

No way would Eren ever... he loved Levi so much...

The mere thought of Eren reclaiming his memories sent a shiver racing through Armin. If that moment ever came, the self-inflicted wrath Eren would unleash would be beyond imagination. He might actually kick his own ass for the way he was acting now.

Perhaps it was for the best that Eren chose to stay away from Levi; if this was how he spoke about him, it would be better for them to remain apart.

Armin struggled to swallow the bitter taste rising in his throat, determined to stay composed.

"Look, I wasn't there when it all started. If you want the full story, ask Jean or Mikasa. They were front-row witnesses to the whole ordeal. But I do know one thing: you were the one who chased after him. Quite desperately, actually."

Pathetically, he added in the depths of his mind.

"What—" Eren began, but before he could voice another word, Armin pivoted sharply, pulling away.

"I have more patients to see," he declared as he moved toward the door. He paused, glancing back at Eren, who looked momentarily stunned. "Oh, and Mikasa wanted me to tell you she's not mad at you, but that's a lie. She's mad. Honestly, so am I. You're treating us terribly, Eren, but we love you very much, so we'll check in on you later today."

Without waiting for a response, Armin slipped out, leaving Eren to his thoughts. As he walked away, he felt the sting of unshed tears gathering in his eyes, but he brushed them away with his white coat.

Nobody had to know.

January 2013

Armin was buried under a mountain of books, the kind that made his tiny dorm room feel even smaller. So many textbooks were required for his new anatomy courses that he had to call Eren for help, asking him to bring in the stack from the car. Looking back, he realized that might have been a mistake.

If only he had called Mikasa; she would have carried them inside in no time and wouldn't have lingered afterwards.

But he didn't call Mikasa. He called Eren. Now, two hours later, he was surrounded by open books and scattered notes.

At the same time, Eren lounged on the narrow bed, sounding like a wounded animal—or maybe just sighing dramatically. Each exhale resonated through Armin's already overstimulated mind. Typically, having Eren around was a comfort; he was Armin's best friend through thick and thin. Armin cherished their friendship dearly.

Just… not today.

"Armin, I'm a handsome fella, right?" Eren's voice interrupted Armin's focus, filled with a melancholic bravado.

Armin felt a vein throb in his head. Was it the retromandibular vein or the posterior auricular vein? His mind raced through the anatomy terminology he struggled to remember for Dr. Kalligan's class. It didn't matter. All that was important was that he needed to study, and Eren was still here, being decidedly unhelpful.

"Sure, Eren. You're a catch," Armin replied, barely glancing up from his notes.

"Then why won't he look at me for more than a few seconds?" Eren's voice dripped with dramatic despair as he flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling as if the answers were painted there.

Armin sighed, bracing himself for what could quickly derail his carefully crafted study session.

He loved Eren, but today... today was just not the day. Armin wanted to be supportive; he truly did. But after nearly four months, things were spiraling instead of improving, and this whole crush situation was becoming a real headache. He had never met this Levi guy, but with all the elaborate and flowery descriptions Eren offered, Armin felt he could identify him in a lineup.

Honestly, it was getting serious—seriously concerning. But not today. Today was for studying. On other days, though, Armin found himself genuinely worried about his friend.

"… I even pretended I didn't know how to do the Bent Arm Takedown so he'd have to come over to show me," Eren lamented, his voice heavy with longing. "I thought we could spend more time together! But after the fifth attempt, he just called me an idiot and teamed me up with Mikasa so she could show me. Can you believe that?"

With a resigned sigh, Armin set his pen down. Eren now lay sprawled across the bed like a stranded starfish, half his face buried in the pillow, and the exposed side screamed misery.

"Maybe it's time to give it a rest, Eren?" Armin offered softly, choosing his words with care. "Sometimes, the people we like just don't reciprocate those feelings. It sucks, but that's life."

Eren's response was immediate and passionate. "I don't just like him… I think I love him."

Armin shot him a look, a mixture of disbelief and concern washing over his face. Jesus, this was getting intense.

"No, you don't," he insisted flatly.

"But I really think I do!" Eren argued, his tone brimming with conviction.

"You barely know him," Armin pointed out.

"I know enough!" Eren shot back, his tone firm. Then, as if an unseen switch had flipped, he launched into an enthusiastic monologue. "His name is Levi—no last name, just Levi. He's in the Military Police, working in Force Protection under Commander Erwin Smith. He also occasionally helps with screening and reconnaissance duties, and he's damn good at it!

His best friend is Hanji Zoe, who also works for the military but in the Military Science division, specifically the Scientific and Technical Intelligence branch. Although she's his best friend, he doesn't like hanging out with her too much, or at least not for long periods. His other notable acquaintances are Mike, Petra, and Gunther. I don't have their last names yet, but I'm working on it.

I also know that Levi is an amazing fighter; he knows many techniques from various fighting styles but has never received formal training. He learned it all from his uncle, who may or may not have been a criminal. Oh, and the guy is a clean freak. I mean, he's on a first-name basis with every dry cleaner in town.

I know he drives an old Mercedes; he should probably buy a new one, but he won't because it's the first car he ever got, and Erwin Smith bought it for him. I know he loves tea, preferably black tea. I know he only sleeps 2–3 hours a day on average, he won't use public bathrooms unless he has disinfectant wipes handy, and his blood type is A. So there you have it, Armin! I think I know enough to figure out if I'm in love with him!"

Armin was speechless.

He really doesn't know… He has no… What even…

"Eren… are you stalking this man?" he finally asked, carefully… fearfully.

Eren instinctively flushed, embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks. "What? No! I just… listen to stuff," he stammered.

"You… listen to stuff?" Armin prodded, his eyebrows knitted together.

"I might be asking stuff too."

Oh my god, Eren was stalking that man.

"But most of what I know comes from talking to him!" Eren rushed to add, apparently seeing the genuine fear in Armin's eyes. "You know how he's a clean freak? He cleans all the equipment after every training session, and I always volunteer to help out. And we get to talk. Even though it's really hard to get anything out of him, I do get bits and pieces. It's usually a casual comment or two, but I do know he mostly says this stuff only to me… well, mostly. But I think that means something, right? That he would mostly say these things only to me?"

Armin listened intently, furrowing his brows in thought.

He had seen Eren interested in people before—crushes that came and went. But this? This was different. The fire in Eren's eyes, the sparkle of excitement—God, he hadn't seen that sparkle in Eren's eyes in such a long time. Not since his mom…

But now, that indescribable spark was back, all because of this mysterious Levi. While that could be a good thing, Mikasa had insisted that their instructor definitely didn't see Eren in a flirtatious light. Eren himself admitted that Levi wasn't giving him the attention he craved. He had just spent two hours on Armin's bed lamenting about it.

Armin bit his lip, watching Eren with concern.

There was something different about Eren lately—a newfound calm that had replaced the constant tension that seemed to cling to him. Sure, he still had his moments—those sharp outbursts that could cut through the quiet like a knife—but they were becoming increasingly rare. It was as if Eren had finally found a way to channel all that pent-up anger, focusing it instead of letting it simmer.

Then there was that day Eren showed up late, his hand scratched and needing care. The look on Eren's face was so striking—genuine regret mixed with an unfamiliar softness that made Armin's heart ache. He had no idea what had happened that day, but it seemed to shift something in Eren. For the first time, he was making an effort, trying to be better.

And Armin knew it was because of that Levi guy.

But if Eren's feelings weren't mutual? What if this budding connection led to heartbreak?

"Eren… I get that you have feelings for Levi," Armin began carefully, "but what if he doesn't feel the same way? Maybe it would be better to—"

Eren cut him off, his expression almost panicked. "What? No! I really think there's something between us! We even had this moment."

"You had a moment?" Armin prompted, frowning slightly.

"Definitely! He, like, touched my neck and everything," Eren replied, his enthusiasm palpable, his eyes gleaming with hope.

Armin sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "Eren…"

"And he looks at me all intense!" Eren continued, defending his position like a fortress under siege.

According to Mikasa, Levi looked at everyone all intense, but Armin knew better than to bring that up now.

Convincing Eren was proving to be a daunting task, but maybe there was a way to introduce some sense into the conversation.

"Okay, if you really believe that, maybe Levi is just being reasonable. I mean, if he's older than you—eight years, right? He might think it's unethical to pursue something like this."

Eren shot back vehemently, "What? No way! Eight years is nothing! People make bigger age gaps work all the time. We're both adults and met as adults—who cares?"

Determined not to give up, Armin pressed on. "Well… he's your teacher, Eren. If he were to start a relationship with you, it would also be unethical. Even if he does have feelings for you, I can't see him jeopardizing everything for that—his reputation and yours are on the line."

Armin believed he had presented a solid argument; surely, Eren would grasp the truth in his words. But to his horror, Eren sprang up from the bed, his eyes shining with newfound excitement.

"You think so?" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with energy. "That makes so much sense! It explains everything about Levi's behaviour. And listen, this is amazing! He's not really my teacher! Okay, technically he is now, but it's complicated. We found out he's only at the Academy because he pissed off Commander Smith, and teaching us is his punishment! Levi's only here for a few months, and then he won't be teaching me anymore. After that, we won't even work together since he's with the military police, and I'm just regular police!"

With an invigorated burst of energy, Eren rushed toward the door, as if propelled by a force beyond himself. Just before he disappeared down the hallway, he called back over his shoulder, "Thanks, Armin! You really are the best friend ever!"

Armin could only shake his head in disbelief; this was absolutely not what he meant. Deep down, he doubted this relationship had much hope, given how painfully one-sided it seemed.

But if it meant Eren could escape his gloomy thoughts for a moment, why not let him dream?

And if Eren's heart ended up broken in the end? Armin promised himself he'd be there to lift Eren's spirits—once the exams were over.

October 2019

The rain poured down in heavy sheets, transforming the streets into glistening rivers. A biting chill filled the air, turning the droplets into icy daggers that pierced the skin. Yet Ymir remained unfazed, an island amidst the chaos. Passersby cast odd glances her way, some tinged with concern.

She let out a huff of frustration.

They were fools—absolutely clueless.

"Oh, what a poor woman," they probably thought. "Out here in this terrible weather, without a place to go. She must be freezing—so painful."

They had no idea. They didn't know that the rain held no power over Ymir. They didn't understand that she was numb. They didn't realize she couldn't feel a thing.

It had been sixteen days since Historia had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but an empty, echoing silence.

Ymir gripped the silver necklace tightly, the charm at its end—a small round token that Historia had given her.

"I know you don't like jewelry, but you should have something. I don't want our love to be just this abstract thing floating in the air. I want something tangible to represent what we are to each other. So you'll always know. So the whole world will know: You are mine, and I am yours."

At the time, Ymir had thought it was ridiculous. She didn't need it—she didn't want it. Yet now, she wore the charm every single day, if only for her own sake. As she clenched the stubborn little orb, its sharp edges dug into her palm, but she wouldn't let go. She couldn't.

"Tangible," she thought, remembering Historia's words. Ymir had never felt so powerless in her life. Powerlessness was never her reality—until Historia.

Ymir couldn't shake the feeling of dread as she recalled the little whiteboard on their fridge, where Historia had scrawled her last message in cheerful, looping letters. Each time she remembered, desperation gnawed at her insides.

"Went out for groceries. Be back soon 3"

But the "soon" had come and gone, and Historia was still missing.

Ymir had retraced every step in her search for Historia. First, she went to the grocery store, the one they often wandered through together, their hands brushing as they debated which snacks to buy. But there was no sign of Historia.

Next, she found herself at the old bookstore, a sanctuary of dusty pages where Historia loved to lose herself in stories. Ymir could almost hear her laughter echoing between the shelves, but now it was just silence. No one had seen her.

Then, she drove to Historia's school, the quaint little building where she diligently pursued her paralegal certification. The familiar surroundings felt like a cruel reminder of late-night study sessions and endless cups of coffee. Yet again, she came up empty.

Ymir wandered through parks and past cozy restaurants, each familiar place heavy with memories and each face she encountered offering nothing but sympathetic glances that cut deep.

Every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest, knowing that the bright, caring girl she loved was out there somewhere...

Ymir vowed that there was nothing she wouldn't do to find Historia.

She would search every corner of the world if that's what it took to bring her back home. She threw everything she had into the search, even if it meant trying things that made her skin crawl.

She even went to the police. What a colossal mistake that turned out to be.

It started off badly: "There are no signs of her being in distress, no indications of foul play. She's legally an adult, and we can't prioritize your friend as a missing person," the officer declared flatly.

Then it took a turn for the worse: "Oh, I see you've been here before, Ms. Agito—a bit of a rap sheet, I see. Your friend, though? Lovely on paper—good family, exemplary student. Are you sure she didn't just leave you behind?"

And it ended with gut-wrenching finality: "We contacted Ms. Reiss's family, and they're not inclined to file a missing person report. Apparently, she has a history of disappearing for a few days before turning up again. As an adult, it's her prerogative. We won't be pursuing this further."

To serve and protect, her ass! What a bunch of pigs! God, she wanted nothing more than to punch that smug officer in the face, but she knew that would land her in jail—and she couldn't afford that now. Not when it felt like she was the only one left searching for Historia.

Especially now that Eren Yeager has decided to disappear into thin air!

The mere thought of him caused a fresh wave of frustration to crash over Ymir. How was it that this brat managed to infuriate her more than the police? That blasted kid had ignited her hope with his promises—stupid assurances that now felt like cruel lies.

"I'll do everything I can," he had said.

"I'll move heaven and earth to find her."

"As of right now, the case of Historia Reiss is my highest priority."

He had said it with such conviction! But where was he now?

It had started so promisingly. Eren had seemed genuinely invested as if he were actually making progress.

"I think I found something that might connect to Historia. Can you come to the office tomorrow?" was the last message he sent her.

Of course, she was ecstatic! She would have sprinted to his office in the dead of night just to hear what Eren had discovered. But when she arrived at his office the following morning, just as he asked, she found herself alone.

She was there. He wasn't.

"I think I found something that might connect to Historia."

That chilling message echoed in her mind. Five days had passed since she last heard from Eren Yeager, and now? He had fucking ghosted her, leaving her with her racing thoughts and a growing sense of betrayal. What kind of heartless jerk could do something like that?

Ymir was determined to find out—she wouldn't let this go unnoticed. There was nothing else that mattered, no one else to turn to.

With a surge of frustration, she yanked her phone from her pocket and dialled the familiar numbers once more: Eren Yeager first, then his office, followed by his frigid sister Mikasa, and finally, his boy-toy, Levi. It felt like a ritual of futility, each call ringing unanswered. Yet this routine had become her desperate lifeline, a way to cling to hope even as it slipped through her fingers.

Despite the silence on the other end, she kept calling over and over again, her determination ringing through each attempt.

There was absolutely nothing she wouldn't do for Historia.

As dusk began to settle in, Ymir caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. Two figures emerged from the building she had been observing for days, and adrenaline surged through her veins. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for.

She shot upright, her heart pounding with anticipation... only to feel her excitement deflate. The figures didn't belong to the ones she sought. Instead, it was that ditzy girl from the reception desk, Sasha, and her equally useless sidekick, Connie. What on earth were they up to?

Ymir squinted, trying to make sense of the scene before her.

Sasha awkwardly wore oversized mitts, and in her grip was—was that a broom?

Meanwhile, Connie crouched behind the front door, using it as an impromptu shield. He was shouting frantically, "Alright, she's still there—go! I'm covering you, go, go, GO!"

What in the world...? Ymir could only watch as the absurdity of the situation unfolded before her eyes.

Ymir arched an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on Sasha as she cautiously approached, broom in hand like a makeshift sword. Each step was careful, a tremor evident in her grip.

When Sasha finally stood before her, a noticeable gulp betrayed her nerves. Ymir could see her hand quivering, the broom shaking like a leaf.

"You need to l-leave! You need to l-leave and not come b-back!" Sasha declared, her voice wavering.

"No," Ymir replied coolly, refusing to budge from her spot on the bench.

"What did she say?!" a boy's voice bellowed from behind the door.

"She said no!"

"Tell her we'll get Kirstein!" the boy shot back.

"Right!" Sasha exclaimed, spinning around to face Ymir again. "If you don't leave, we'll get Kirstein!"

"What the hell is a Kirstein?" Ymir asked, her tone flat and unyielding.

"He's a police person!" Sasha responded, trying to sound intimidating.

"I don't give a shit about police," Ymir retorted, her indifference palpable.

"O-oh... I see..." Sasha stammered, her courage slipping away.

"What is she saying now?!"

Sasha turned to relay Ymir's words. The boy soon shouted back, "She doesn't give a shit about the police? What's wrong with her?!"

"Right, I'll ask!" Sasha nodded, steeling herself once more before fixing her gaze back on Ymir. "What is wrong with you?"

"Listen, you're really starting to get on my nerves," Ymir said, her voice low and edged with frustration.

Sasha let out a tiny squeak, gripping the broom tighter against her chest as she stumbled back a few steps, caught off guard by the intensity in Ymir's gaze.

"Please, just leave us alone! Pleeease!" she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation.

Ymir studied her with an unwavering gaze, examining every flicker of emotion across her face. What a pathetic creature.

"I'm not leaving until I get a word in with that Eren brat." Ymir's voice was firm, her resolve unshakeable.

Sasha's brows knitted together, worry etched across her face. "Y-You can't talk to him, I'm sorry! I really wish it were different, but we can't help you. We just… we can't. Please, just leave us alone."

Ymir remained silent, her gaze locked onto Sasha with an intensity that made the air feel thick and heavy.

"What is she saying?!" the brat shouted again from inside.

"N-Nothing! She's just glaring now!"

"Shut the hell up, both of you! How stupid are you?" Ymir snapped at the girls who were shouting. How had she ended up in this situation? She longed to rise above it all, to walk away from the ridiculous antics surrounding her. But deep down, she knew she wouldn't—couldn't—do that.

There was nothing in this world that she wouldn't do for Historia.

"She said something just now! I saw her mouth moving! What did she say?!" The boy was shouting again, pointing his finger frantically at Ymir.

Sasha turned to the boy once more. "She wants to know how stupid we are!"

"How should we know?!" the boy replied, exasperated.

"Just tell me where I can find Eren Yeager, and I'll gladly leave you two idiots to squabble!" Ymir interjected, her voice sharp.

Sasha whipped her head around, her cheeks flushed.

"But I can't! I can't tell you. I'm sorry! I promised Levi and Mikasa! I can't let them down, especially not right now. They've been cooped up in that hospital for days, struggling through everything—ICK!" She abruptly stopped herself with a squeak, slapping a fist over her mouth as if to push the words back inside.

A spark of determination ignited within Ymir, and she sprang to her feet. "The hospital…" she murmured, her mind racing.

"N-No! You don't know which one!" Sasha stammered, her face burning crimson.

Ymir shook her head, her eyes wide with realization.

"There's only one hospital in this town," she asserted, more to herself than to Sasha. Without another word, she turned left and strode down the street, her resolve solidifying.

Sasha's voice trailed behind her, laced with panic.

"B-But they could be out of town! Far, far away! Doctors have helicopters, you know?!"

Ymir pushed forward through the relentless downpour, icy raindrops splattering against her skin, yet she remained undeterred. A singular purpose ignited her spirit; she will not be stopped. With determination coursing through her veins, she focused on the hospital ahead. Her mission was clear, and nothing would stand in her way.

She will harass the hospital staff. She will punch that short jerk, Levi. She will slap that frigid bitch, Mikasa. She won't stop until she finds out where Eren Jeager is, and she will drag him out of whatever hole he was hiding in and make him help her find Historia. Even if she has to use force at every turn.

There is nothing she wouldn't do.