On The Bench (AOT/DxD)
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Still Can't Live
It was pity that made Michael stop in front of the bench.
His guards had swept Kuoh thoroughly and had reported no anomalies of concern in the lead-up to the Peace Conference. Except, that is, for the human boy sitting on the bench well within the devils' wards around the school.
After initial scans, even going so far as to approach, they had determined him to be nothing more than a human. One without any magic or Sacred Gear. Thanks to their constant exposure to Heaven's system, angels were much better at sensing such things.
Despite determining the boy to be of little to no importance, Michael's guards still dutifully reported the oddity to the Seraph.
It was Irina Shidou, one of the church agents and a participant in the Kokabiel incident, who had accurately guessed who it was.
Eren Yeager. The Child of Evil. A former child soldier and mercenary living out his last days in Kuoh.
A human that was friends with the devil scions but remained largely unaware of the supernatural world, according to Irina, who had spoken to the Red Dragon Emperor on the subject.
Apparently, the exorcist had been concerned for her former partner, Xenovia, and inquired about the subject with her childhood friend.
Hearing that the boy had managed to injure Griselda, even if thanks to trickery, was interesting. But the fact that he lacked anything that would make him a threat had reassured Michael's security that they had made the correct call to leave the human alone.
Not so for the leader of Heaven himself.
Michael had memorized every word his Father had ever spoken to him and never forgot the particular importance God had placed on how wonderous and terrible humanity's potential could be. He was to never overlook them.
So he asked more questions.
And hadn't liked the answers.
Sadness overwhelmed the Seraph.
Sadness at the world that would allow a child so young to face the horrors of war. Sadness at the unfairness of it all that even after going through so much, the boy was still denied a long, happy life.
It was a familiar sadness.
A deep, all-consuming melancholy at the daily tragedies of a world without God.
And then the regret came.
Regret because there was nothing Michael could do. If even Twilight Healing, one of the greatest of his Father's works, failed to save the boy, it would take a miracle to cure Eren Yeager.
And miracles from Heaven were in short supply.
They had been waiting on one themselves for so long.
So, moved by pity, Michael met the boy on the bench.
"Do you mind if I take a seat," the Seraph asked the Devil.
"You're free to do what you want," the Devil answered with a shrug.
"Thank you." Michael sat down, his overly elaborate robes of office dragging along the dirt as he took his seat, yet they remained pristine white.
He let out a breath of air as he leaned back, gazing towards the sky. Unlike the boy beside him, Michael could see it, bright blue taking on a darker hue as the sunset.
They sat in silence, taking their rest as they each watched a world the other couldn't see.
It was Michael who spoke first.
"What brings you here, young man?"
"Waiting."
"For what?"
"A meeting I was promised."
"With whom?"
"I'll know when I meet them."
The pair lapsed back into silence.
Michael let it stretch longer this time. He knew he was under observation by both his guards and the other factions, but he did not mind. He could not remember the last time he took a break, even for as short a time as this.
It was the most relaxed he had been in centuries.
Eventually, Michael knew he had to leave the bench, to return to a world without God, so he got around to the reason for his visit.
"Are you a religious man, my friend?"
"No."
"Through lack of opportunity or lack of belief."
"Yes."
Michael's smile, soft and comforting, took on a wry note.
"Even in your... condition?" Michael asked gently. "If you will pardon a bit of rudeness, you do not look well."
"If I changed who I was just because I was about to die, it wouldn't be out of faith," Eren said simply, not bothered by the allusion to his sickly appearance. "It would be cowardice."
"It is not cowardly to seek salvation," the Seraph chided gently. "There is nothing wrong with entrusting your soul to a greater power. In praying for an afterlife. A better life."
"There is," Eren said, this time with a note of steel in his dull voice. "It makes you cattle. When you give up your freedom for safety, you deserve neither."
"I take it you don't believe in God and the afterlife, then?" Michael asked, giving up the pretext of subtlety. Eren Yeager seemed to be the type to appreciate blunt honesty.
"Whether they exist or not does not matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"If God exists, she either allows the world to be like this, makes the world like this, or is helpless to change the world. Either way, believing in her or not does not change whether she is real or her effect on me and the world."
"Her? You believe God to be a woman?"
Eren didn't answer, and seeing as he wasn't going to be able to continue that train of conversation, Michael steered it back on course.
"What of the afterlife?" The Seraph asked curiously. "Why does its existence not matter?"
"Because if it doesn't exist, I will cease to exist as well when I die," Eren said simply, but there was something in his emotionless voice, some note that Michael picked up on thanks to his millennia of life.
"And if it does?"
"Then I am going to hell, and nothing I say or do will change that."
The certainty in the boy's words broke Michael's heart.
The world was a cruel place. A terrible place. A place where a child was forced to commit heinous acts just to survive.
That was why he was here. Why the Seraph was taking a few minutes out of his day to talk to a dying boy.
Michael would forever disappoint his Father if he failed to extend the one hand he could offer.
"That is not true," Michael said with certainty. "No matter your actions, guilt, or crimes, it is never too late to find salvation. I am a priest, of a sort. I can take your confession. If you dedicate yourself to repentance and atonement, I am certain you can find a better place in the next life."
Michael had seen the worst sinners weep in repentance and live out their days as saints. He had seen monsters turn into heroes.
The Seraph had seen the worst of humanity turn into its best.
Only those who knew the dark could truly appreciate the light.
Michael did not know the extent of Eren Yeager's sins. Such an ability was beyond even him, and a single file and testimony from his church exorcists was not enough information to render judgment.
Only when the boy stood before the Pearly Gates would he be judged by his Father's system.
Until then, Michael could not know for sure if someone was destined for paradise or damnation.
What Michael did know was that the Gates of Heaven would always be open.
Michael was not God.
Michael's name meant 'Like God,' not God himself. He was a poor substitute.
But on one point, he was absolutely sure.
The one point of the System his Father had put in place that Michael had unwavering confidence in. That he had maintained perfectly despite every other failure of his.
Because of his ineptitude, Michael might allow flaws in the Divine system. The likes of the Holy Sword Project could be laid at his feet for his inability to match God.
Asia Argento had been excommunicated from the church because of his weakness. Xenovia Quarta had been exiled because news of God's death could not be allowed to spread lest chaos and fear reign.
But, until either had become devils, they had never been beyond Heaven's blessing, the one reward they could give that was wholly theirs.
There was only one place where Michael's hubris allowed him to acknowledge that Michael might, in some minuscule way, compare to his deceased Father.
For the truly faithful, those who did good, who regretted their sins and strove for salvation, the Pearly Gates would always be open.
No man was without sin.
It was those who repented, who strove to be better, that walked Heaven's Halls.
That was why Michael was meeting with Eren.
Not to heal him, for he could not.
Not to convert him, for he should not.
But to save him, in the only way he could.
If Eren took the chance the highest Seraph was giving him, if he confessed his sins and spent his remaining time on earth dedicated to others, to balance out the bad with the good, then he too might walk those golden halls one day.
Sins are never forgotten.
But they can be forgiven.
It was up to the dying boy to make the first step.
All Michael could do was extend a hand.
But Eren Yeager, the Child of Evil, could not see that hand.
He was blind to everything but the Path he chose to walk.
For good or ill.
"My confession?" The dying boy asked a note of disbelief in his placid voice. "What a useless thing. Will my confession bring the dead back? Will it give the living the vengeance they want? Will it change what I have done?"
"Nothing will change the past," Michael said sombrely, knowing rejection was the most likely outcome when he came here.
But he had to try.
He owed it to his Father. To his brother and sisters. To the beliefs they held within their hearts. To humanity.
He owed it to the dead. The countless mountain of corpses he and his comrades had tread across to reach this day.
He owed it to those faces who looked to Heaven and found not God but a pale imitation.
He owed them all to always have this one hand extended.
Peace was imminent. Why could salvation not be as well?
"Your sins are your own. All we can do is change the future. It is there that we might balance the scales away from evil."
"There are not scales in heaven or hell large enough to weigh the evil I have done."
Michael felt his gentle smile twist into one of regret and pain.
He was not diminishing what the boy had gone through. Michael could see it in the tenseness of the boy's body when he arrived. He could hear it in the exhaustion in the boy's voice. He could feel it in the aura of pain, anger and guilt that seemed to radiate from the dying boy as they talked.
Eren Yeager was not naive, ignorant, or even childish.
But he was young.
It was the privilege of the young to believe they were unique and that their circumstance had never happened before and would never happen again.
It was the privilege of the old to know that the world did not work like that.
And Michael was very, very old.
The blood on Eren's hands could not compare to the ocean that dripped from Michael's spear.
"Even were that the case," Michael allowed, well knowing that a young man's pride was fragile. "Would it not be better to make the attempt? To do enough good to outweigh the bad? To repent and-"
"Repent?"
Eren cut off the greatest angel with clear anger in his voice.
The first clear display of emotion the Seraph had heard from the boy.
Michael actually had to waive his guards down when they made to say something. They wouldn't have hurt the boy, but they would have made their displeasure at his rude interruption known.
"I repent nothing. I regret. I endlessly regret it. But I shall never repent. To repent is to stop moving forward. To try and undo the choices I made. To trample on the hearts they dedicated. I will burn in hell for all eternity before I repent for even one footstep of mine. Because to try and repent is to spit on all the dead I trampled on."
Ah.
Michael understood now.
He had made a mistake.
Despite his best efforts and despite the warnings of his Father so long ago about humanity, Michael had underestimated Eren Yeager.
"Confess? Repent? It's shit like this why I can't stand you religious types. You can't take responsibility for your own actions. Always trusting others to do it for you."
Eren Yeager was not some traumatized child soldier forced to confront the horrors of the world at a too-young age. He was not a young man dying so far before his time that he lamented the unfairness of the world.
Nor was he a child of pure evil. He was not a monster unrepentant of his actions or the atrocities he committed.
Eren Yeager was not a boy who wished for salvation.
"If I do evil, it is because I choose to. If I do good, it is because I want to. Not because of some arbitrary rules from old fuc-"
Michael's pity overwhelmed his propriety, and it was his turn to interrupt the boy's angry tirade to ask the question.
"Would you do it again?"
Eren's mouth clicked shut, teeth clenching.
"Knowing the sins you'd commit, the deaths at your hands and the evil you'd inflict? Would you do it again?"
"Yes." The answer was bit out through clenched teeth as his fists curled on his cane hard enough to creak the wood. "Over and over and over and over again. A million times over. Even if I could change the past, I wouldn't. I would do it all again."
"Then you have my apologies." Michael stood from the bench and bowed to the human. "I interrupted your day with pointless preaching. I hope you will forgive me."
For a long second, Eren seemed at a loss for words. The anger was still there, but it was confused, as if he didn't know how to direct it. Michael maintained his bow, even as his guards shifted in the air until the boy spoke.
"It's not worth apologizing for," Eren sagged against the bench as the anger left him, and the strength went with it. "I am more... emotional these days than I should be."
Michael stood from his bow with his usual gentle smile.
He noted, wryly, that Eren had never said he forgave him or that the boy was sorry for his anger.
"Thank you for entertaining my questions," the Seraph said instead of pointing it out. "It has been nice to relax in comfort for a few minutes. I hope you find peace."
Michael's guards started to signal him as Eren answered.
"Peace always comes after war."
"Well said," Sirzechs Lucifer responded with a smile as he entered the clearing with the bench.
He, too, was in ceremonial robes, and Michael saw his companions tense as the Crimson Satan approached.
Sirzechs was only accompanied by his wife and Queen rather than the contingent of guards Michael's siblings had foisted on him. Grayfia Lucifuge, dressed as a maid as always, looked over the blind boy with a critical eye, her face as cold as her magic.
Michael gestured for his hidden compatriots to calm themselves. They could do nothing to the Super-Devil and would only serve to slow his Queen down.
Besides, they were here for peace.
Eren Yeager had no idea he was currently in a clearing with the replacements for Lucifer and God.
"Who are you?" Eren asked bluntly.
"Sirzechs," Lucifer, far from being offended by the tone, laughed lightly as he greeted the dying boy. "Rias' brother, in case she's mentioned me."
"She hasn't."
It was below a Seraph to take pleasure in suffering, but lying was also a sin, so Michael admitted, to himself, if no one else, that seeing the leader of the devils wilt in despair was genuinely amusing.
"Ria-tan is just shy. She's proud of her big brother. She is. She'll tell yo-" the former Gremory said with a slightly pained expression as his wife subtly pinched him. "Anyway, this is my wife, Grayfia. You must be Eren Yeager. Rias has told me so much about you."
"Greeting, Mr. Yeager," the second strongest female devil executed a perfect curtsy even if the boy couldn't see her. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"My bench is very popular today," Eren said sarcastically as his hands tensed around his cane. "Why are you here, brother and sister of Rias?"
"As much as I would love to talk to you about my dear Ria-tan and what she's been up to," Sirzechs laughed again despite Eren's evident unease. "I am actually here for your companion. I hope you don't mind if I steal him away? We have business to attend to."
Michael again had to signal his guards not to do anything stupid at the devil's provocative words.
Must Sirzechs rile them up so much.
"Go ahead," Eren grunted. "I don't care."
"Thank you," Sirzechs said with his easy smile. "I hope you don't mind if I return some other day? To talk? I am always happy to get to know Rias' friends."
"I won't stop you."
"Until then."
Lucifer gave Michael a wave as Grayfia, the stickler for propriety, gave another curtsy that the blind boy couldn't see.
The Seraph also bid his farewells to the dying boy.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Eren Yeager," Michael said formally. "Walk with the Lord's blessing."
Eren grunted in dismissal, tapping his cane on the ground rhythmically as his guests and their hidden entourage left him.
As soon as they left, they saw a small girl rush towards the clearing they had just left.
Upon seeing the pair, she froze.
"Don't mind us, Koneko-chan," Sirzechs waived the young girl by with a smile. "We were just taking a walk together before the meeting."
The young devil stared at the pair with wide, golden eyes.
Michael nodded in greeting.
She bowed as they walked by, much to Grayfia's silent pride. As soon as they were out of eyesight, Koneko resumed her run.
They heard her speedy footsteps, no matter how quiet she tried to be. They were some of the strongest beings on the planet.
Both men shared a smile.
As they were leaving the small forest park towards the school, the other students having long gone for the day, Sirzechs finally spoke up.
"I am surprised," the devil said lightly. "As I understand it, young Eren, back there is a figure of contention within your faction. I heard he's destroyed a few churches and even almost lamed one of your more experienced exorcists."
"She recovered without issue," Michael answered just as lightly. He knew how the game was played. "And we always offer salvation to those who would seek it. So long as he does not become a devil, our hands will always be extended."
Lucifer laughed as if Michael had told a joke.
They might be walking to a peace conference, but immortal beings like them had long memories. Just because they were doing what was best for their people and the world did not mean they forgot the friends and family they had lost at the other's hands.
Peace always came after war.
And war always followed peace.
Such was the nature of the world.
"If Eren ends up in heaven," Sirzechs said, still chuckling. "Rias will never let me hear the end of it. The Child of Evil? An Angel? There is some delicious irony there."
Michael didn't comment on the devil's blase handling of secrets. Every one of his guards was trustworthy. They knew that this peace conference was just a pretext. The actual negotiations had been going on behind the scenes for decades, and the terms had already been laid out.
One of the most significant benefits the angels would gain was a system similar to the Evil Piece system. A way to replenish their race that had been lost with his Father's death.
It was also a key benefit for the fallen. More angels meant more that might fall, though that part went unsaid.
The Brave Saint system was ready after long years of work from both Beelzebub and Azazel.
The leaders of the three factions had just been waiting for an excuse, a show they could put on for the others in their factions and the world.
Kokabiel had been that excuse, and this conference was that show.
"Eren Yeager will never be an angel."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because it would be cruel," Michael answered, pity leaking into his voice. "Salvation only comes to those who search for it. And that boy never will. He does not regret his sins, so he cannot repent. He only regrets their necessity. He will never give them up. Would he become an angel, his sins would drag him down. He would fall instantly."
"I suppose that makes him the perfect devil, then," Sirzechs said lightly. "Rias will be happy."
"That would be crueller still," Michael shook his head. "If he could repent, he might take such a deal. Just as Eren cannot repent, so too can he not forgive himself. He is already in hell. Angel, fallen, or devil, it does not matter. Unless he learns to live again, death will be his only rest."
For a long moment, the group was quiet. Eventually, the Crimson Satan said one word.
"Good."
It was not a kind sentiment, and Michael gave his companion a challenging look.
Sirzechs, for all his faults, was not a cruel devil.
He would not wish a child suffering if it did not serve his interests.
But his interests were many and varied.
"Rias needs to learn to lose," the devil said. "Better it be someone she has only known for a short time and a death she can prepare for. Even if we have peace, a devil's life is never peaceful."
Michael's expression soured slightly.
They might be signing a peace treaty today, but he could never allow himself to forget just what kind of creatures devils were.
"By the way," Sirzechs continued, a grin forming on his face. "Please do not mention Eren in front of Serafall."
"Why not?"
Michael hadn't actually planned on doing such, considering the matter with the blind boy done. He was also well aware of the Leviathan's... mercurial moods.
Especially with regards to the Seraphs.
"Her sister is sweet on the boy," Sirzechs smiled mischievously. "I don't know about you, but I don't want Leviathan going on a rampage during a peace conference out of jealousy."
"Ah," Michael blinked in surprise. "I see. Young love? And between the Sitri Heiress and a human? Is this the 'bad boy' appeal I hear so much about? I confess I do not understand such matters."
"Take a tragic backstory, a touch of danger, and wrap it all in a mystery? Human or devil, teenage girls lap that up," Sirzechs was nodding sagely. "How do you think I got- ow ow ow, Grayfia!"
Out of angelic kindness, Michael pretended not to notice the Crimson Devil's plight as his wife mercilessly pinched him.
It would be cruel to point out that the Queen had broken the etiquette she valued so highly.
Such mercy was expected of a Seraph such as him.
Peace was on the horizon, he had taken his first rest in centuries, and Michael saw Sirzechs Lucifer get tormented by his wife.
For the first time in a very long time, the mantle on Michael's back, the weight on his wings, felt just a little lighter.
With such matters on his mind, Michael spent only a few moments of quiet prayer. He prayed that salvation would come for the boy on the bench.
********
It's never really gone into in DxD, because almost everything we get is from Issei's perspective, but it is hinted that all three faction leaders have been in contact for a long time before the actual peace conference. And the Brave Saint system comes about after only a month or so.
In my mind, just like most negotiations happen away from the actual deal table, it is pretty likely that the Peace Conference only happened after a deal had been finalized. That would also explain how easily it comes about in the books/show. Rather than three factions deciding to have peace after millennia of war because of a ten-minute talk, much more is happening behind the scenes. Again, this isn't explicitly canon, but it lines up with it and doesn't contradict it.
My biggest issue with this chapter was more on how to portray Michael. The Heaven faction is the most underrepresented in all of DxD. I also never want to bash religions (despite Eren's views), but they are represented in a fairly military way in DxD, so I tried to strike a balance here. Sirzechs is canonically shown to be manipulative and will do anything to better Rias, so I think I got him down reasonably well.
Next week, we will wrap up the peace conference. Until then, I will be waiting on the bench.
His guards had swept Kuoh thoroughly and had reported no anomalies of concern in the lead-up to the Peace Conference. Except, that is, for the human boy sitting on the bench well within the devils' wards around the school.
After initial scans, even going so far as to approach, they had determined him to be nothing more than a human. One without any magic or Sacred Gear. Thanks to their constant exposure to Heaven's system, angels were much better at sensing such things.
Despite determining the boy to be of little to no importance, Michael's guards still dutifully reported the oddity to the Seraph.
It was Irina Shidou, one of the church agents and a participant in the Kokabiel incident, who had accurately guessed who it was.
Eren Yeager. The Child of Evil. A former child soldier and mercenary living out his last days in Kuoh.
A human that was friends with the devil scions but remained largely unaware of the supernatural world, according to Irina, who had spoken to the Red Dragon Emperor on the subject.
Apparently, the exorcist had been concerned for her former partner, Xenovia, and inquired about the subject with her childhood friend.
Hearing that the boy had managed to injure Griselda, even if thanks to trickery, was interesting. But the fact that he lacked anything that would make him a threat had reassured Michael's security that they had made the correct call to leave the human alone.
Not so for the leader of Heaven himself.
Michael had memorized every word his Father had ever spoken to him and never forgot the particular importance God had placed on how wonderous and terrible humanity's potential could be. He was to never overlook them.
So he asked more questions.
And hadn't liked the answers.
Sadness overwhelmed the Seraph.
Sadness at the world that would allow a child so young to face the horrors of war. Sadness at the unfairness of it all that even after going through so much, the boy was still denied a long, happy life.
It was a familiar sadness.
A deep, all-consuming melancholy at the daily tragedies of a world without God.
And then the regret came.
Regret because there was nothing Michael could do. If even Twilight Healing, one of the greatest of his Father's works, failed to save the boy, it would take a miracle to cure Eren Yeager.
And miracles from Heaven were in short supply.
They had been waiting on one themselves for so long.
So, moved by pity, Michael met the boy on the bench.
"Do you mind if I take a seat," the Seraph asked the Devil.
"You're free to do what you want," the Devil answered with a shrug.
"Thank you." Michael sat down, his overly elaborate robes of office dragging along the dirt as he took his seat, yet they remained pristine white.
He let out a breath of air as he leaned back, gazing towards the sky. Unlike the boy beside him, Michael could see it, bright blue taking on a darker hue as the sunset.
They sat in silence, taking their rest as they each watched a world the other couldn't see.
It was Michael who spoke first.
"What brings you here, young man?"
"Waiting."
"For what?"
"A meeting I was promised."
"With whom?"
"I'll know when I meet them."
The pair lapsed back into silence.
Michael let it stretch longer this time. He knew he was under observation by both his guards and the other factions, but he did not mind. He could not remember the last time he took a break, even for as short a time as this.
It was the most relaxed he had been in centuries.
Eventually, Michael knew he had to leave the bench, to return to a world without God, so he got around to the reason for his visit.
"Are you a religious man, my friend?"
"No."
"Through lack of opportunity or lack of belief."
"Yes."
Michael's smile, soft and comforting, took on a wry note.
"Even in your... condition?" Michael asked gently. "If you will pardon a bit of rudeness, you do not look well."
"If I changed who I was just because I was about to die, it wouldn't be out of faith," Eren said simply, not bothered by the allusion to his sickly appearance. "It would be cowardice."
"It is not cowardly to seek salvation," the Seraph chided gently. "There is nothing wrong with entrusting your soul to a greater power. In praying for an afterlife. A better life."
"There is," Eren said, this time with a note of steel in his dull voice. "It makes you cattle. When you give up your freedom for safety, you deserve neither."
"I take it you don't believe in God and the afterlife, then?" Michael asked, giving up the pretext of subtlety. Eren Yeager seemed to be the type to appreciate blunt honesty.
"Whether they exist or not does not matter."
"Why do you say that?"
"If God exists, she either allows the world to be like this, makes the world like this, or is helpless to change the world. Either way, believing in her or not does not change whether she is real or her effect on me and the world."
"Her? You believe God to be a woman?"
Eren didn't answer, and seeing as he wasn't going to be able to continue that train of conversation, Michael steered it back on course.
"What of the afterlife?" The Seraph asked curiously. "Why does its existence not matter?"
"Because if it doesn't exist, I will cease to exist as well when I die," Eren said simply, but there was something in his emotionless voice, some note that Michael picked up on thanks to his millennia of life.
"And if it does?"
"Then I am going to hell, and nothing I say or do will change that."
The certainty in the boy's words broke Michael's heart.
The world was a cruel place. A terrible place. A place where a child was forced to commit heinous acts just to survive.
That was why he was here. Why the Seraph was taking a few minutes out of his day to talk to a dying boy.
Michael would forever disappoint his Father if he failed to extend the one hand he could offer.
"That is not true," Michael said with certainty. "No matter your actions, guilt, or crimes, it is never too late to find salvation. I am a priest, of a sort. I can take your confession. If you dedicate yourself to repentance and atonement, I am certain you can find a better place in the next life."
Michael had seen the worst sinners weep in repentance and live out their days as saints. He had seen monsters turn into heroes.
The Seraph had seen the worst of humanity turn into its best.
Only those who knew the dark could truly appreciate the light.
Michael did not know the extent of Eren Yeager's sins. Such an ability was beyond even him, and a single file and testimony from his church exorcists was not enough information to render judgment.
Only when the boy stood before the Pearly Gates would he be judged by his Father's system.
Until then, Michael could not know for sure if someone was destined for paradise or damnation.
What Michael did know was that the Gates of Heaven would always be open.
Michael was not God.
Michael's name meant 'Like God,' not God himself. He was a poor substitute.
But on one point, he was absolutely sure.
The one point of the System his Father had put in place that Michael had unwavering confidence in. That he had maintained perfectly despite every other failure of his.
Because of his ineptitude, Michael might allow flaws in the Divine system. The likes of the Holy Sword Project could be laid at his feet for his inability to match God.
Asia Argento had been excommunicated from the church because of his weakness. Xenovia Quarta had been exiled because news of God's death could not be allowed to spread lest chaos and fear reign.
But, until either had become devils, they had never been beyond Heaven's blessing, the one reward they could give that was wholly theirs.
There was only one place where Michael's hubris allowed him to acknowledge that Michael might, in some minuscule way, compare to his deceased Father.
For the truly faithful, those who did good, who regretted their sins and strove for salvation, the Pearly Gates would always be open.
No man was without sin.
It was those who repented, who strove to be better, that walked Heaven's Halls.
That was why Michael was meeting with Eren.
Not to heal him, for he could not.
Not to convert him, for he should not.
But to save him, in the only way he could.
If Eren took the chance the highest Seraph was giving him, if he confessed his sins and spent his remaining time on earth dedicated to others, to balance out the bad with the good, then he too might walk those golden halls one day.
Sins are never forgotten.
But they can be forgiven.
It was up to the dying boy to make the first step.
All Michael could do was extend a hand.
But Eren Yeager, the Child of Evil, could not see that hand.
He was blind to everything but the Path he chose to walk.
For good or ill.
"My confession?" The dying boy asked a note of disbelief in his placid voice. "What a useless thing. Will my confession bring the dead back? Will it give the living the vengeance they want? Will it change what I have done?"
"Nothing will change the past," Michael said sombrely, knowing rejection was the most likely outcome when he came here.
But he had to try.
He owed it to his Father. To his brother and sisters. To the beliefs they held within their hearts. To humanity.
He owed it to the dead. The countless mountain of corpses he and his comrades had tread across to reach this day.
He owed it to those faces who looked to Heaven and found not God but a pale imitation.
He owed them all to always have this one hand extended.
Peace was imminent. Why could salvation not be as well?
"Your sins are your own. All we can do is change the future. It is there that we might balance the scales away from evil."
"There are not scales in heaven or hell large enough to weigh the evil I have done."
Michael felt his gentle smile twist into one of regret and pain.
He was not diminishing what the boy had gone through. Michael could see it in the tenseness of the boy's body when he arrived. He could hear it in the exhaustion in the boy's voice. He could feel it in the aura of pain, anger and guilt that seemed to radiate from the dying boy as they talked.
Eren Yeager was not naive, ignorant, or even childish.
But he was young.
It was the privilege of the young to believe they were unique and that their circumstance had never happened before and would never happen again.
It was the privilege of the old to know that the world did not work like that.
And Michael was very, very old.
The blood on Eren's hands could not compare to the ocean that dripped from Michael's spear.
"Even were that the case," Michael allowed, well knowing that a young man's pride was fragile. "Would it not be better to make the attempt? To do enough good to outweigh the bad? To repent and-"
"Repent?"
Eren cut off the greatest angel with clear anger in his voice.
The first clear display of emotion the Seraph had heard from the boy.
Michael actually had to waive his guards down when they made to say something. They wouldn't have hurt the boy, but they would have made their displeasure at his rude interruption known.
"I repent nothing. I regret. I endlessly regret it. But I shall never repent. To repent is to stop moving forward. To try and undo the choices I made. To trample on the hearts they dedicated. I will burn in hell for all eternity before I repent for even one footstep of mine. Because to try and repent is to spit on all the dead I trampled on."
Ah.
Michael understood now.
He had made a mistake.
Despite his best efforts and despite the warnings of his Father so long ago about humanity, Michael had underestimated Eren Yeager.
"Confess? Repent? It's shit like this why I can't stand you religious types. You can't take responsibility for your own actions. Always trusting others to do it for you."
Eren Yeager was not some traumatized child soldier forced to confront the horrors of the world at a too-young age. He was not a young man dying so far before his time that he lamented the unfairness of the world.
Nor was he a child of pure evil. He was not a monster unrepentant of his actions or the atrocities he committed.
Eren Yeager was not a boy who wished for salvation.
"If I do evil, it is because I choose to. If I do good, it is because I want to. Not because of some arbitrary rules from old fuc-"
Michael's pity overwhelmed his propriety, and it was his turn to interrupt the boy's angry tirade to ask the question.
"Would you do it again?"
Eren's mouth clicked shut, teeth clenching.
"Knowing the sins you'd commit, the deaths at your hands and the evil you'd inflict? Would you do it again?"
"Yes." The answer was bit out through clenched teeth as his fists curled on his cane hard enough to creak the wood. "Over and over and over and over again. A million times over. Even if I could change the past, I wouldn't. I would do it all again."
"Then you have my apologies." Michael stood from the bench and bowed to the human. "I interrupted your day with pointless preaching. I hope you will forgive me."
For a long second, Eren seemed at a loss for words. The anger was still there, but it was confused, as if he didn't know how to direct it. Michael maintained his bow, even as his guards shifted in the air until the boy spoke.
"It's not worth apologizing for," Eren sagged against the bench as the anger left him, and the strength went with it. "I am more... emotional these days than I should be."
Michael stood from his bow with his usual gentle smile.
He noted, wryly, that Eren had never said he forgave him or that the boy was sorry for his anger.
"Thank you for entertaining my questions," the Seraph said instead of pointing it out. "It has been nice to relax in comfort for a few minutes. I hope you find peace."
Michael's guards started to signal him as Eren answered.
"Peace always comes after war."
"Well said," Sirzechs Lucifer responded with a smile as he entered the clearing with the bench.
He, too, was in ceremonial robes, and Michael saw his companions tense as the Crimson Satan approached.
Sirzechs was only accompanied by his wife and Queen rather than the contingent of guards Michael's siblings had foisted on him. Grayfia Lucifuge, dressed as a maid as always, looked over the blind boy with a critical eye, her face as cold as her magic.
Michael gestured for his hidden compatriots to calm themselves. They could do nothing to the Super-Devil and would only serve to slow his Queen down.
Besides, they were here for peace.
Eren Yeager had no idea he was currently in a clearing with the replacements for Lucifer and God.
"Who are you?" Eren asked bluntly.
"Sirzechs," Lucifer, far from being offended by the tone, laughed lightly as he greeted the dying boy. "Rias' brother, in case she's mentioned me."
"She hasn't."
It was below a Seraph to take pleasure in suffering, but lying was also a sin, so Michael admitted, to himself, if no one else, that seeing the leader of the devils wilt in despair was genuinely amusing.
"Ria-tan is just shy. She's proud of her big brother. She is. She'll tell yo-" the former Gremory said with a slightly pained expression as his wife subtly pinched him. "Anyway, this is my wife, Grayfia. You must be Eren Yeager. Rias has told me so much about you."
"Greeting, Mr. Yeager," the second strongest female devil executed a perfect curtsy even if the boy couldn't see her. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"My bench is very popular today," Eren said sarcastically as his hands tensed around his cane. "Why are you here, brother and sister of Rias?"
"As much as I would love to talk to you about my dear Ria-tan and what she's been up to," Sirzechs laughed again despite Eren's evident unease. "I am actually here for your companion. I hope you don't mind if I steal him away? We have business to attend to."
Michael again had to signal his guards not to do anything stupid at the devil's provocative words.
Must Sirzechs rile them up so much.
"Go ahead," Eren grunted. "I don't care."
"Thank you," Sirzechs said with his easy smile. "I hope you don't mind if I return some other day? To talk? I am always happy to get to know Rias' friends."
"I won't stop you."
"Until then."
Lucifer gave Michael a wave as Grayfia, the stickler for propriety, gave another curtsy that the blind boy couldn't see.
The Seraph also bid his farewells to the dying boy.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Eren Yeager," Michael said formally. "Walk with the Lord's blessing."
Eren grunted in dismissal, tapping his cane on the ground rhythmically as his guests and their hidden entourage left him.
As soon as they left, they saw a small girl rush towards the clearing they had just left.
Upon seeing the pair, she froze.
"Don't mind us, Koneko-chan," Sirzechs waived the young girl by with a smile. "We were just taking a walk together before the meeting."
The young devil stared at the pair with wide, golden eyes.
Michael nodded in greeting.
She bowed as they walked by, much to Grayfia's silent pride. As soon as they were out of eyesight, Koneko resumed her run.
They heard her speedy footsteps, no matter how quiet she tried to be. They were some of the strongest beings on the planet.
Both men shared a smile.
As they were leaving the small forest park towards the school, the other students having long gone for the day, Sirzechs finally spoke up.
"I am surprised," the devil said lightly. "As I understand it, young Eren, back there is a figure of contention within your faction. I heard he's destroyed a few churches and even almost lamed one of your more experienced exorcists."
"She recovered without issue," Michael answered just as lightly. He knew how the game was played. "And we always offer salvation to those who would seek it. So long as he does not become a devil, our hands will always be extended."
Lucifer laughed as if Michael had told a joke.
They might be walking to a peace conference, but immortal beings like them had long memories. Just because they were doing what was best for their people and the world did not mean they forgot the friends and family they had lost at the other's hands.
Peace always came after war.
And war always followed peace.
Such was the nature of the world.
"If Eren ends up in heaven," Sirzechs said, still chuckling. "Rias will never let me hear the end of it. The Child of Evil? An Angel? There is some delicious irony there."
Michael didn't comment on the devil's blase handling of secrets. Every one of his guards was trustworthy. They knew that this peace conference was just a pretext. The actual negotiations had been going on behind the scenes for decades, and the terms had already been laid out.
One of the most significant benefits the angels would gain was a system similar to the Evil Piece system. A way to replenish their race that had been lost with his Father's death.
It was also a key benefit for the fallen. More angels meant more that might fall, though that part went unsaid.
The Brave Saint system was ready after long years of work from both Beelzebub and Azazel.
The leaders of the three factions had just been waiting for an excuse, a show they could put on for the others in their factions and the world.
Kokabiel had been that excuse, and this conference was that show.
"Eren Yeager will never be an angel."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because it would be cruel," Michael answered, pity leaking into his voice. "Salvation only comes to those who search for it. And that boy never will. He does not regret his sins, so he cannot repent. He only regrets their necessity. He will never give them up. Would he become an angel, his sins would drag him down. He would fall instantly."
"I suppose that makes him the perfect devil, then," Sirzechs said lightly. "Rias will be happy."
"That would be crueller still," Michael shook his head. "If he could repent, he might take such a deal. Just as Eren cannot repent, so too can he not forgive himself. He is already in hell. Angel, fallen, or devil, it does not matter. Unless he learns to live again, death will be his only rest."
For a long moment, the group was quiet. Eventually, the Crimson Satan said one word.
"Good."
It was not a kind sentiment, and Michael gave his companion a challenging look.
Sirzechs, for all his faults, was not a cruel devil.
He would not wish a child suffering if it did not serve his interests.
But his interests were many and varied.
"Rias needs to learn to lose," the devil said. "Better it be someone she has only known for a short time and a death she can prepare for. Even if we have peace, a devil's life is never peaceful."
Michael's expression soured slightly.
They might be signing a peace treaty today, but he could never allow himself to forget just what kind of creatures devils were.
"By the way," Sirzechs continued, a grin forming on his face. "Please do not mention Eren in front of Serafall."
"Why not?"
Michael hadn't actually planned on doing such, considering the matter with the blind boy done. He was also well aware of the Leviathan's... mercurial moods.
Especially with regards to the Seraphs.
"Her sister is sweet on the boy," Sirzechs smiled mischievously. "I don't know about you, but I don't want Leviathan going on a rampage during a peace conference out of jealousy."
"Ah," Michael blinked in surprise. "I see. Young love? And between the Sitri Heiress and a human? Is this the 'bad boy' appeal I hear so much about? I confess I do not understand such matters."
"Take a tragic backstory, a touch of danger, and wrap it all in a mystery? Human or devil, teenage girls lap that up," Sirzechs was nodding sagely. "How do you think I got- ow ow ow, Grayfia!"
Out of angelic kindness, Michael pretended not to notice the Crimson Devil's plight as his wife mercilessly pinched him.
It would be cruel to point out that the Queen had broken the etiquette she valued so highly.
Such mercy was expected of a Seraph such as him.
Peace was on the horizon, he had taken his first rest in centuries, and Michael saw Sirzechs Lucifer get tormented by his wife.
For the first time in a very long time, the mantle on Michael's back, the weight on his wings, felt just a little lighter.
With such matters on his mind, Michael spent only a few moments of quiet prayer. He prayed that salvation would come for the boy on the bench.
********
It's never really gone into in DxD, because almost everything we get is from Issei's perspective, but it is hinted that all three faction leaders have been in contact for a long time before the actual peace conference. And the Brave Saint system comes about after only a month or so.
In my mind, just like most negotiations happen away from the actual deal table, it is pretty likely that the Peace Conference only happened after a deal had been finalized. That would also explain how easily it comes about in the books/show. Rather than three factions deciding to have peace after millennia of war because of a ten-minute talk, much more is happening behind the scenes. Again, this isn't explicitly canon, but it lines up with it and doesn't contradict it.
My biggest issue with this chapter was more on how to portray Michael. The Heaven faction is the most underrepresented in all of DxD. I also never want to bash religions (despite Eren's views), but they are represented in a fairly military way in DxD, so I tried to strike a balance here. Sirzechs is canonically shown to be manipulative and will do anything to better Rias, so I think I got him down reasonably well.
Next week, we will wrap up the peace conference. Until then, I will be waiting on the bench.
Ralyx
Seeking Balance
- Location
- The Realm Between
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Can someone please explain what the heck the use of this would be?
I suppose the promised meeting isn't with death, but with Mikasa?
MaHaL
Conductor of the Choir of Death
- Location
- Canada
It's not like those two are mutually exclusive.
I think you want to use "Can't" rather than "Will" else the next sentence make no sense. Because Will doesn't describe an inability, just a willingness. And "don't want to" also describe a willingness. So it's redundant.
By using "Will" the sentences give this kind of meaning.
But if you replace "Will" by "Can't" It will flow better and make more sense.
Or you should just remove Vali's reply and replace it by an action to show his emotions at that moment while keeping Eren's word the same, because by saying "Will" and making Vali show emotions It will show that he knows Eren doesn't want kids because of reasons as he should due to their shared history together and make things flow better generally.
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It is kind of exclusive imo? Like, the only thing stopping Eren from surviving is himself. But if Mikasa is there, then, well. I don't see any possibility he would be like "Oh hi. Bye." And dies.
'Lemme just re-traumatize you real quick.'
A more serious take would be Eren doing the thing he does in this fic and monologues, telling her to move on already It's apparently been long enough to pass out of human memory, and while he wanted at least ten years of fond remembrance Mikasa seems to have taken that as like, have one kid and get back to pining as a full time job.
The happy end would be her smacking that defeatist talk outta his mouth and marrying his mopey ass, somehow overcoming his deterministic fate. Maybe he dies, the coordinate dies with him, then he gets pieced?
Declaration of Change
It was an important meeting.
World-changing, even.
The three biblical factions were ceasing their never-ending war and tense cease-fire in favour of an official declaration of peace.
Koneko knew that it was very important and knew that the world of tomorrow would be different than the one of today, no matter what happened.
That didn't change the fact that she was tired.
Not only was it a school night, but she hadn't been sleeping well recently. The nightmares had been worse ever since the Kokabiel incident.
Usually, she could supplement her lack of sleep with naps with Eren, but Koneko had been busy lately, between regular duties, helping Gya-kun, and the additional training they had all taken after the Excaliber disaster.
It was seriously cutting into her nap time.
The leaders of the factions had been talking a while and, after calling upon Buchou and Kachou for their testimony, had spoken to the pervert for a bit before deciding that they all wanted peace.
It was all Koneko could do not to yawn.
Of course, they wanted peace.
They wouldn't be here if they didn't want peace.
But from there, things got even duller, with the conversation shifting to even more boring topics. Trade deals, personnel movements, what the Grigori were doing with Gear holders, yadda yadda.
This chair was so damn annoying. Would it have been too hard to ensure the audience had proper seating instead of using the standard chairs Kuoh used for students? Koneko had to spend the entire day in these things, and they were terrible for naps.
She would know. She tried.
Koneko wished she was on the bench with Eren.
The damned thing was uncomfortable as hell, but Eren let her lay her head on his lap when they napped.
He had already gone home for the night. She had made sure of it. It was for the best. Koneko had almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Lord Lucifer and Lord Michael walking through the park, but they had left the human alone, so she had hurried to get him gone before someone started asking questions.
Right now, the entire grounds were crawling with security forces. No need for him to draw attention.
Still... Koneko was tired.
It shouldn't matter if she closed her eyes for a moment, right?
Just a little bit. A few seconds. Nobody would even notice.
Even Nee-san and Obaa-san, usually so attentive, were more focused on the table full of leaders with their Kings.
Just a minute. Or two. Nobody would know.
...
Koneko would swear that she only closed her eyes for a second, a brief moment, before she was brutally shaken from her doze by Akeno.
"Koneko! Koneko!" Her Queen said urgently, shaking the Rook awake.
"...Huh?" Koneko murmured blearily, looking around the room with uncomprehending eyes.
It was a mess.
All the leaders had left the table they had been sitting around and were staring outside to Kuoh's grounds through a hole in the wall that Koneko would swear wasn't there before.
Magic of various types flew through the air beyond them, and Koneko's sensitive ears picked up screams, and she could smell blood in the air.
Yuuto and Asia were also blinking in surprise from the seats beside her, as were Sona, her Peerage, and the other attendants, while Akeno leaned over them.
Notable were the absences.
Buchou and the pervert were gone, as were Obaa-san, the White Dragon Emperor and Azazel.
"Are you alright?" Akeno asked, looking Koneko, Yuuto, and Asia over in turn as if expecting them to be injured.
"What is going on?" Yuuto asked, standing from his seat and summoning his Balance Breaker to his hands as he readied himself for combat.
"The conference was attacked," Akeno said simply. "They managed to get a hold of Gasper and did something to him that made his Gear run wild. You've been trapped for a while."
"...Gya-kun?" Koneko asked, slipping her gloves on and readying herself for a fight.
"I don't know," Akeno said worriedly. "Lady Ackerman took Rias and Issei to try to get him from them, but we haven't heard back."
"Mi-chan's got them," Serafall Levithan said proudly, puffing out her chest. Koneko wasn't jealous. There was a crisis going on. Being jealous would be stupid and childish. "Look! Here they come."
Sure enough, all the leaders stepped away from the hole in the wall to allow Mikasa to land in their midst. She had Gya-kun slung over one shoulder and Rias in her other hand.
While the Gremory Peerage felt relief at the sight, Mikasa Ackerman's following words chilled the room.
"The White Dragon Emperor has betrayed us," she declared, even as new swords appeared in her hands from nowhere. "The Red Dragon Emperor is delaying him."
With no more words, the Pawn disappeared back out of the hole in the wall faster than Koneko could track.
"Well," Sirzech Lucifer said wryly. "Now that we don't have to worry about keeping the barrier up, shall we deal with our uninvited guests?"
"I am so going to pew-pew Katerea so hard," Serafall said as she gave a little twirl and shot off sparkles into the distance. "How dare she insult Magical Girls!"
"I believe Lord Azazel has that matter in hand," Nee-san told the Satan. "Might you please instead deal with the insects?"
"Mou~" the strongest woman in the Underworld pouted. "I don't want to be on mook duty! Miracle Girl Levi-tan is the star!"
"Sister, please?" Sona asked, her voice a touch lower than usual. "I don't want my subjects getting hurt or my school getting destroyed."
"Gah!" Serafall stumbled back, dramatically grasping her heart. "So-tan's heartfelt plea! Levi-tan's one weakness!"
"Looks like you have to do it now," Sirzech teased. "You don't want to see So-tan cry, do you?"
"NO!" Serafall cried, standing tall and posing for cameras that weren't there with her wand raised high. "Levi-tan will never allow So-tan to cry! Begone evil-doers! The power of cuteness compels you! So-tan Vult!"
Even as the two Satans and the Seraph left, it was incredibly clear that they were not worried in the least and considered this attack more of a curiosity than a genuine threat.
Now that the hostage had been secured, they were more interested in getting information than defending themselves.
Of course, Koneko couldn't appreciate all this.
She was too busy being squished in an incredibly tight hug by Rias.
Which wouldn't be so bad if the redhead wasn't trying to hug her Rook, Bishop and both Knights at once.
"I was so worried," Rias said, her arms struggling to hold them all.
"Uh," Asia squeaked. "I don't understand what is happening. Where's Issei?"
"He's fighting Vali," Rias said, finally letting them go.
"We should go help," Yuuto said, resuming his sword after he had dismissed it before Rias could impale herself on it in her effort to hug them.
Koneko nodded, smashing one fist into another for emphasis.
"There is nothing to fear," Grayfia, who had remained behind when the leaders left, told the group. She closed up the hole behind them with a thick wall of ice. "Mikasa will have no trouble. Please remain here, and I will protect you."
"But-" Rias made to say something, but the maid interrupted her.
"Your Rook will be fine," Grayfia reassured. "His specialty is defence. A unique path for a Red Dragon Emperor that ensures even if he cannot beat his destined rival for the moment, he will last until Mikasa finishes him off. Trust her and trust Lord Lucifer."
Rias still looked mulish, but Sona grabbed her attention when the Sitri heiress approached after checking over her Peerage.
"What about..." Sona never finished the sentence, but her worried gaze toward the direction of the park conveyed the topic of her concern.
"Don't worry," Akeno was the one to answer instead of their King, shooting a look at Koneko. "I made sure he left before the conference. He's at home and safe."
Sona let out a sigh of relief.
Xenovia, on the other hand, was not ready to sit back and let others fight for her.
"We are not helpless. Let us fight."
Koneko wanted to stop the new Knight.
Clearly, she didn't know Grayfia Lucifuge was voted number one on the list of 'Devils you don't want to piss off' for seventeen years running.
"You will only get in the way," the maid said impassively.
"Let us at least get Issei," Rias joined her newest Peerage member. "We'll come right back."
"No." Grayfia's face might as well have been carved from her own ice magic. "The enemy has already demonstrated a willingness to use hostages. We let you go last time because of the unique circumstances, but not again. It is too risky."
Then, the facade cracked for a fraction of an instant, and the woman peeked through the veneer as she spoke in a softer tone.
"Your brother will make sure nothing happens to him, I promise."
As if God wasn't dead and had been waiting for that exact moment, the ice wall shattered, and a figure clad in draconic red armour passed beside the maid to smash into the far wall.
""ISSEI!"" Multiple voices cried out in worry.
Koneko recognized Rias' voice, of course, but she was surprised to notice that brown-haired girl had also yelled. Had she always been there? What was her name again? Iri- something or other. She had come with the church, right?
It wasn't Koneko's fault. It was Iri...na? That sounded right. It was Irina's fault. Why was she so forgetable?
"I am OK!" Issei said, giving the room a thumbs up as he stood from the wreckage.
"Nyayayayaya."
Koneko froze, eyes dilating in fear as her breath and heartbeat picked up.
No.
No, she couldn't be here. Not her. Not now.
"Not bad, boyo," Kuroka laughed as she sauntered through the hole in the ice. She moved with feline grace, a sensual flow that spoke of absolute confidence despite the battlefield and the enemies that faced her. "Vali'll have fun with you."
"Black Cat Kuroka," Grayfia intoned gravely, the air around her misting as her magic seeped into it. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting Shironya~" the Stray devil admitted casually, dismissing the Strongest Queen as her eyes found Koneko. "There you are."
Suddenly, Koneko was in her sister's arms again.
The familiar scent, the nostalgic warmth, and the heartbeat she knew as well as her own.
It was like Koneko's worst nightmare had come to life.
"Let her go!" Rias shouted in fear and anger.
Dozens of small yet incredibly dense spheres of destruction converged on the feline woman from behind, her power trying to blast the Stray away from her Rook without hurting Koneko.
Six black tails batted them away like a cat with balls of yarn.
That shouldn't be possible. At her sister's age, she should only have two, maybe three tails.
"RIAS!" Grayfia shouted in fear as ice covered the room, separating the kimono-clad woman from the devil heiress' and their Peerage.
Only because of the hostage did the maid keep her magic defensive instead of trying to attack the threat.
Koneko was too busy having a panic attack to notice any of this.
Her sister.
Her insane, dangerous, and insanely dangerous sister was here.
Here with her new family, here attacking the peace conference.
She was here for Koneko.
In her panic, Koneko instinctively tried to free herself from the prison she found herself confined to.
She squirmed and wiggled, struggling with all her might to get even an inch of space to attack, defend, flee, or anything. She needed to get away get away get away awayawayaway.
Kuroka did not allow her an inch.
"I missed you, Shirone," the Black Cat rumbled affectionately, rubbing her face against Koneko's cheeks and not giving the younger girl the slightest possibility of escape.
It was a familiar action, one the older sister had done hundreds of times before.
Koneko felt nauseous.
"...go."
"Nya?" Kuroka asked, stopping her nuzzling to look at her younger sister.
"LET ME GO!" Koneko shouted in her sister's face, redoubling her effort for even an inch of freedom.
"Do as she says," Grayfia ordered. She had wrapped herself, Kuroka, and Koneko in a box of ice meters thick, trapping them together. Rias and her Peerage tried to smash their way in, desperate to reach the Rook, but the maid did not allow it. "Release her and surrender. You will be detained. If you do, I will guarantee your survival."
"You're annoying," Kuroka grumbled, looking less scared and more put out as she glared at the devil. "Don't interfere, nyaa~."
Even as Koneko tried to free herself from her sister's grasp, two more versions of the Black Cat appeared in the ice box and launched themselves at the Strongest Queen.
The ice around them pelted the clones at speeds Koneko couldn't follow, but the other Kurokas surrounded themselves with balls of black flame, laughing lightly as they burned their way closer to the maid despite all the ice.
Kasha. Flames that served to guide the dead. A powerful ability of the nekomata.
The Kuroka Koneko remembered had never been able to summon them.
But then again, the Kuroka Koneko remembered couldn't make solid clones either and only had two tails.
What she saw should be impossible for such a young nekomata, nekoshou or not.
"See Shironya," Kuroka said proudly to her still-struggling sister. "Onee-sama is strong!"
"Let me go," Koneko said again, eyes starting to water in frustration.
She hated this.
She hated how she was being used to ensure Grayfia could not use her full power.
Hated how scared Rias and Akeno and Yuuto and everyone looked as they desperately tried to reach her.
Hated how weak she was, unable to free herself.
Hated how scared she was.
Koneko hated how comfortable she felt in her sister's arms once more.
Kuroka looked at her younger sister and, amazingly, did as she asked.
Koneko stared, wide-eyed, as Kuroka put her back down to the ground.
The older girl leaned forward, lowering herself slightly till they were at eye level.
Even her clones stopped trying to attack Grayfia, keeping their Kasha burning to deal with the ice, but otherwise, they were not actively attacking anymore.
"Shirone," Kuroka said, far more serious than she had been since she had appeared. "I am sorry. It was necessary, but I am still sorry. Sorry that you were hurt. Sorry I had to leave you alone."
"...what?" Koneko hated how her voice cracked.
"I can't explain right now," Kuroka said, her black ears twitching from a sound Koneko couldn't hear. Her six tails writhed behind her in agitation. "But I will. Someday, you'll understand."
"You left," Koneko accused softly.
All her betrayal, all her heartbreak, all her fear, and all the love she had once felt were packed into two words.
"I did," Kuroka nodded gravely, and the tails sped up in their agitation as her ears drooped. "I will explain everything when I can. I am also sorry I scared you now. I just wanted to see you again. I am not here to take you away. I am sorry I have to leave again."
"...Why?"
Why did Kuroka leave her?
Why was she here now?
Why was she leaving again?
...Why wasn't she insane?
"Onee-sama wanted to see Shironyaa," Kuroka laughed, perking back up. "It's not time yet, but we'll be together soon. All three of us. Onee-sama promises."
A part of Koneko, the part that yearned for her older sister once again, the part she hated, wanted for it to be true. Wanted to believe her sister had her reasons. Koneko wanted the promise to come true.
But Kuroka had broken promises before.
"...Three?" Koneko couldn't help but ask. Who was she talking about?
"Onee-sama found herself a man, nyaa," Kuroka said proudly, her playful demeanour returning. "He's scary and strong and a bit too serious, but don't worry, Onee-sama will have amazing kittens."
...Was her sister actually insane and just been covering it up until now?
"Nyaa!?" Kuroka stumbled away as if she had been stabbed. "Don't look at Onee-sama like that! He's real!"
Koneko continued to watch her sister doubtfully. She didn't doubt Kuroka could find herself a man, she was beautiful after all, but why bring it up now?
What did that have to do with Koneko?
Did she think Koneko would go with her to meet him?
"I am never going with you," Koneko said firmly, the moments of calm giving her time to recompose herself slightly after her world had crashed around her. She looked to Rias, still blasting away at the ice that separated them. "I am staying with Buchou."
Kuroka looked like she was to say something again, but her ears twitched again, and instead, she summoned a wave of black fire to melt a part of the ice wall.
Right away, the wooden wall behind it collapsed, and the second armoured form crashed through. This one was white instead of red.
The figure didn't land on his back but skidded along the ice-covered floor, armoured feet carving a groove as his wings flashed.
[Divide]
For a brief moment, Koneko saw a flash of a blade that threatened to take the White Dragon Emperor's head off. Then it disappeared, and Mikasa stood beside Grayfia, a pair of shattered swords in hand.
"Nyaa?" Kuroka said curiously as she looked the pair of new arrivals over. "Vali? You're losing? Who's she?"
"Don't know. She's weak," the White Dragon Emperor said, and there was a note of glee in his voice. "Fast, but weak. No power at all. All I can divide are her swords as they hit me, and she must have hundreds."
Koneko heard her sister sigh and mumble something about 'battle maniacs.' Now that Koneko had a moment to look, she noticed the blue wings of Divine Dividing were surprisingly small. Much smaller than the massive blue wings they had been when he had taken down Kokabiel.
"Grayfia?" Mikasa asked lowly.
"I'll distract them," Grayfia said grimly. "Get Koneko."
Mikasa nodded, throwing away the destroyed swords and pulling two more European straight swords from who knew where.
Vali prepared himself with a laugh, more than ready and excited for the upcoming fight.
Kuroka wasn't having any of it.
Before any sort of conflict could begin, Vali slumped forward as a fourth Kuroka, hidden under an illusion until now, smacked him behind his head.
Koneko felt it. She felt the senjutsu pass through the armour of Albion's Balance Breaker and disrupt the brain within the skull, rendering him unconscious.
"Vali's an idiot, nyaa," Kuroka sighed as she slung him over her shoulder. "Instead of distracting the guards, he brought them near Shirone. No noodles for him for a week. But we need him, so I can't let you kill him."
"What are you doing here, Black Cat Kuroka," Grayfia asked again, not lowering her guard. "Have you joined these terrorists?"
"The Khaos Brigade? You have it wrong, nyaa~ They joined us." Kuroka paused, tilting her head, ears flickering as she grinned sadistically. "Not that they had a choice. Nyahahahaha~ This whole attack is that idiot Katarea's idea. She's not needed, so please kill her. Ah! Please kill everyone else who attacks you. You'd be doing us a favour, nyaa~."
Then she completely disregarded the two devils and looked back to Koneko, the White Dragon Emperor slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Onee-sama has to leave now, Shirone. I'll introduce you to brother-in-law later. I promise," Kuroka told her younger sister. "Just not now. Onee-sama needs to have a... talk with him about running off without telling anyone."
For a second, Koneko felt the malice she so feared. It practically radiated from the older girl before she and Vali dissipated in a shimmer of magic.
A part of Koneko wanted to reach out, begging her sister not to leave her again.
But she didn't.
Seeing Kuroka again brought it all back.
The confusion. The abandonment. The sting of betrayal. The pain.
Just because her sister seemed slightly sane and claimed to have a reason for her actions didn't erase everything Koneko had gone through.
And it didn't change what she had gained from that pain.
Even now, as Kuroka gave Koneko a quick hug before teleporting away, her new family was fighting to reach her.
Kuroka's farewell remained unanswered.
Koneko remained silent as her old family disappeared, and her new one embraced her in worried concern.
********
Hmmm, what to say this time?
First off, the peace conference always struck me as odd. I've already mentioned how the actual terms would have been negotiated ahead of time, and that was just the symbolic signing, but the Khaos Brigade's actions were also weird. I get the reasons from a Doylist perspective. It sets up a recurring villain group, gives Issei a chance to fight Vali, and shows off Azazel (who is an important character in DXD after this point).
From a Watsonian perspective, it makes absolutely zero sense. The Khaos Brigade went from an unknown actor to a known threat, showing off their trump (Ophis's power) and gained nothing for it. While it can be chalked up to Katarea being a moron (which she is), I want to play with that idea more. They have a reason, at least in this story. It's just a bit opaque at the moment from the character's perspective.
We also see Kuroka for the first time. She's the last main character I will focus on in this story, though I have one or two more side characters of import that will get some focus. She's obviously different from canon in some regards, but she's the same in others.
That's one of the things I love and struggle with when writing characters in fanfiction. How do you stay true to the original character while showing they have changed? So many things have to be taken into account.
For an example of my thought process: Issei is a Rook. This means Rias can't use Castling to rescue Gasper. But Mikasa is there. So she helps save him because she can't help power the spells that keep the area safe. Issei still gives Gasper blood to regain control and Rias to calm him down, but Issei doesn't need Azazel's device to maintain Balance Breaker. When Vali attacks, the hostages are a priority, as Mikasa would know from her past experience, so she leaves Issei to delay him.
All together, that train of logic accounts for one or two paragraphs in the story, but it is a good example of what can change with even superficial differences. If I want to be able to re-read this story when it is done and go, 'Yep, this is my new canon ending for AOT,' I need to be able to follow these trains of thought and convey them quickly and succinctly.
A bit of a peek behind the screen, but I hope it gives you all an idea of how I write. Either way, two more chapters in Part 2, then we will be on to Part 3, where things will shift once again.
I will meet you all next time on the bench.
PS: For those curious about power levels/abilities, the strongest nekomata in DxD has seven tails and is hundreds of years old. As far as we know in canon, both Shirone and Kuroka go up to three (so far), but are very young.
As for Vali Vs. Mikasa needs to touch someone to Divide their power, unlike what Fanon would have you believe. A speedy weapon user with no powers and hundreds of disposable weapons would be the perfect enemy. He'd still win in the end in a straight fight, but Mikasa could punch well above her weight class for a while and even kill Vali if she took him by surprise.
World-changing, even.
The three biblical factions were ceasing their never-ending war and tense cease-fire in favour of an official declaration of peace.
Koneko knew that it was very important and knew that the world of tomorrow would be different than the one of today, no matter what happened.
That didn't change the fact that she was tired.
Not only was it a school night, but she hadn't been sleeping well recently. The nightmares had been worse ever since the Kokabiel incident.
Usually, she could supplement her lack of sleep with naps with Eren, but Koneko had been busy lately, between regular duties, helping Gya-kun, and the additional training they had all taken after the Excaliber disaster.
It was seriously cutting into her nap time.
The leaders of the factions had been talking a while and, after calling upon Buchou and Kachou for their testimony, had spoken to the pervert for a bit before deciding that they all wanted peace.
It was all Koneko could do not to yawn.
Of course, they wanted peace.
They wouldn't be here if they didn't want peace.
But from there, things got even duller, with the conversation shifting to even more boring topics. Trade deals, personnel movements, what the Grigori were doing with Gear holders, yadda yadda.
This chair was so damn annoying. Would it have been too hard to ensure the audience had proper seating instead of using the standard chairs Kuoh used for students? Koneko had to spend the entire day in these things, and they were terrible for naps.
She would know. She tried.
Koneko wished she was on the bench with Eren.
The damned thing was uncomfortable as hell, but Eren let her lay her head on his lap when they napped.
He had already gone home for the night. She had made sure of it. It was for the best. Koneko had almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Lord Lucifer and Lord Michael walking through the park, but they had left the human alone, so she had hurried to get him gone before someone started asking questions.
Right now, the entire grounds were crawling with security forces. No need for him to draw attention.
Still... Koneko was tired.
It shouldn't matter if she closed her eyes for a moment, right?
Just a little bit. A few seconds. Nobody would even notice.
Even Nee-san and Obaa-san, usually so attentive, were more focused on the table full of leaders with their Kings.
Just a minute. Or two. Nobody would know.
...
Koneko would swear that she only closed her eyes for a second, a brief moment, before she was brutally shaken from her doze by Akeno.
"Koneko! Koneko!" Her Queen said urgently, shaking the Rook awake.
"...Huh?" Koneko murmured blearily, looking around the room with uncomprehending eyes.
It was a mess.
All the leaders had left the table they had been sitting around and were staring outside to Kuoh's grounds through a hole in the wall that Koneko would swear wasn't there before.
Magic of various types flew through the air beyond them, and Koneko's sensitive ears picked up screams, and she could smell blood in the air.
Yuuto and Asia were also blinking in surprise from the seats beside her, as were Sona, her Peerage, and the other attendants, while Akeno leaned over them.
Notable were the absences.
Buchou and the pervert were gone, as were Obaa-san, the White Dragon Emperor and Azazel.
"Are you alright?" Akeno asked, looking Koneko, Yuuto, and Asia over in turn as if expecting them to be injured.
"What is going on?" Yuuto asked, standing from his seat and summoning his Balance Breaker to his hands as he readied himself for combat.
"The conference was attacked," Akeno said simply. "They managed to get a hold of Gasper and did something to him that made his Gear run wild. You've been trapped for a while."
"...Gya-kun?" Koneko asked, slipping her gloves on and readying herself for a fight.
"I don't know," Akeno said worriedly. "Lady Ackerman took Rias and Issei to try to get him from them, but we haven't heard back."
"Mi-chan's got them," Serafall Levithan said proudly, puffing out her chest. Koneko wasn't jealous. There was a crisis going on. Being jealous would be stupid and childish. "Look! Here they come."
Sure enough, all the leaders stepped away from the hole in the wall to allow Mikasa to land in their midst. She had Gya-kun slung over one shoulder and Rias in her other hand.
While the Gremory Peerage felt relief at the sight, Mikasa Ackerman's following words chilled the room.
"The White Dragon Emperor has betrayed us," she declared, even as new swords appeared in her hands from nowhere. "The Red Dragon Emperor is delaying him."
With no more words, the Pawn disappeared back out of the hole in the wall faster than Koneko could track.
"Well," Sirzech Lucifer said wryly. "Now that we don't have to worry about keeping the barrier up, shall we deal with our uninvited guests?"
"I am so going to pew-pew Katerea so hard," Serafall said as she gave a little twirl and shot off sparkles into the distance. "How dare she insult Magical Girls!"
"I believe Lord Azazel has that matter in hand," Nee-san told the Satan. "Might you please instead deal with the insects?"
"Mou~" the strongest woman in the Underworld pouted. "I don't want to be on mook duty! Miracle Girl Levi-tan is the star!"
"Sister, please?" Sona asked, her voice a touch lower than usual. "I don't want my subjects getting hurt or my school getting destroyed."
"Gah!" Serafall stumbled back, dramatically grasping her heart. "So-tan's heartfelt plea! Levi-tan's one weakness!"
"Looks like you have to do it now," Sirzech teased. "You don't want to see So-tan cry, do you?"
"NO!" Serafall cried, standing tall and posing for cameras that weren't there with her wand raised high. "Levi-tan will never allow So-tan to cry! Begone evil-doers! The power of cuteness compels you! So-tan Vult!"
Even as the two Satans and the Seraph left, it was incredibly clear that they were not worried in the least and considered this attack more of a curiosity than a genuine threat.
Now that the hostage had been secured, they were more interested in getting information than defending themselves.
Of course, Koneko couldn't appreciate all this.
She was too busy being squished in an incredibly tight hug by Rias.
Which wouldn't be so bad if the redhead wasn't trying to hug her Rook, Bishop and both Knights at once.
"I was so worried," Rias said, her arms struggling to hold them all.
"Uh," Asia squeaked. "I don't understand what is happening. Where's Issei?"
"He's fighting Vali," Rias said, finally letting them go.
"We should go help," Yuuto said, resuming his sword after he had dismissed it before Rias could impale herself on it in her effort to hug them.
Koneko nodded, smashing one fist into another for emphasis.
"There is nothing to fear," Grayfia, who had remained behind when the leaders left, told the group. She closed up the hole behind them with a thick wall of ice. "Mikasa will have no trouble. Please remain here, and I will protect you."
"But-" Rias made to say something, but the maid interrupted her.
"Your Rook will be fine," Grayfia reassured. "His specialty is defence. A unique path for a Red Dragon Emperor that ensures even if he cannot beat his destined rival for the moment, he will last until Mikasa finishes him off. Trust her and trust Lord Lucifer."
Rias still looked mulish, but Sona grabbed her attention when the Sitri heiress approached after checking over her Peerage.
"What about..." Sona never finished the sentence, but her worried gaze toward the direction of the park conveyed the topic of her concern.
"Don't worry," Akeno was the one to answer instead of their King, shooting a look at Koneko. "I made sure he left before the conference. He's at home and safe."
Sona let out a sigh of relief.
Xenovia, on the other hand, was not ready to sit back and let others fight for her.
"We are not helpless. Let us fight."
Koneko wanted to stop the new Knight.
Clearly, she didn't know Grayfia Lucifuge was voted number one on the list of 'Devils you don't want to piss off' for seventeen years running.
"You will only get in the way," the maid said impassively.
"Let us at least get Issei," Rias joined her newest Peerage member. "We'll come right back."
"No." Grayfia's face might as well have been carved from her own ice magic. "The enemy has already demonstrated a willingness to use hostages. We let you go last time because of the unique circumstances, but not again. It is too risky."
Then, the facade cracked for a fraction of an instant, and the woman peeked through the veneer as she spoke in a softer tone.
"Your brother will make sure nothing happens to him, I promise."
As if God wasn't dead and had been waiting for that exact moment, the ice wall shattered, and a figure clad in draconic red armour passed beside the maid to smash into the far wall.
""ISSEI!"" Multiple voices cried out in worry.
Koneko recognized Rias' voice, of course, but she was surprised to notice that brown-haired girl had also yelled. Had she always been there? What was her name again? Iri- something or other. She had come with the church, right?
It wasn't Koneko's fault. It was Iri...na? That sounded right. It was Irina's fault. Why was she so forgetable?
"I am OK!" Issei said, giving the room a thumbs up as he stood from the wreckage.
"Nyayayayaya."
Koneko froze, eyes dilating in fear as her breath and heartbeat picked up.
No.
No, she couldn't be here. Not her. Not now.
"Not bad, boyo," Kuroka laughed as she sauntered through the hole in the ice. She moved with feline grace, a sensual flow that spoke of absolute confidence despite the battlefield and the enemies that faced her. "Vali'll have fun with you."
"Black Cat Kuroka," Grayfia intoned gravely, the air around her misting as her magic seeped into it. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting Shironya~" the Stray devil admitted casually, dismissing the Strongest Queen as her eyes found Koneko. "There you are."
Suddenly, Koneko was in her sister's arms again.
The familiar scent, the nostalgic warmth, and the heartbeat she knew as well as her own.
It was like Koneko's worst nightmare had come to life.
"Let her go!" Rias shouted in fear and anger.
Dozens of small yet incredibly dense spheres of destruction converged on the feline woman from behind, her power trying to blast the Stray away from her Rook without hurting Koneko.
Six black tails batted them away like a cat with balls of yarn.
That shouldn't be possible. At her sister's age, she should only have two, maybe three tails.
"RIAS!" Grayfia shouted in fear as ice covered the room, separating the kimono-clad woman from the devil heiress' and their Peerage.
Only because of the hostage did the maid keep her magic defensive instead of trying to attack the threat.
Koneko was too busy having a panic attack to notice any of this.
Her sister.
Her insane, dangerous, and insanely dangerous sister was here.
Here with her new family, here attacking the peace conference.
She was here for Koneko.
In her panic, Koneko instinctively tried to free herself from the prison she found herself confined to.
She squirmed and wiggled, struggling with all her might to get even an inch of space to attack, defend, flee, or anything. She needed to get away get away get away awayawayaway.
Kuroka did not allow her an inch.
"I missed you, Shirone," the Black Cat rumbled affectionately, rubbing her face against Koneko's cheeks and not giving the younger girl the slightest possibility of escape.
It was a familiar action, one the older sister had done hundreds of times before.
Koneko felt nauseous.
"...go."
"Nya?" Kuroka asked, stopping her nuzzling to look at her younger sister.
"LET ME GO!" Koneko shouted in her sister's face, redoubling her effort for even an inch of freedom.
"Do as she says," Grayfia ordered. She had wrapped herself, Kuroka, and Koneko in a box of ice meters thick, trapping them together. Rias and her Peerage tried to smash their way in, desperate to reach the Rook, but the maid did not allow it. "Release her and surrender. You will be detained. If you do, I will guarantee your survival."
"You're annoying," Kuroka grumbled, looking less scared and more put out as she glared at the devil. "Don't interfere, nyaa~."
Even as Koneko tried to free herself from her sister's grasp, two more versions of the Black Cat appeared in the ice box and launched themselves at the Strongest Queen.
The ice around them pelted the clones at speeds Koneko couldn't follow, but the other Kurokas surrounded themselves with balls of black flame, laughing lightly as they burned their way closer to the maid despite all the ice.
Kasha. Flames that served to guide the dead. A powerful ability of the nekomata.
The Kuroka Koneko remembered had never been able to summon them.
But then again, the Kuroka Koneko remembered couldn't make solid clones either and only had two tails.
What she saw should be impossible for such a young nekomata, nekoshou or not.
"See Shironya," Kuroka said proudly to her still-struggling sister. "Onee-sama is strong!"
"Let me go," Koneko said again, eyes starting to water in frustration.
She hated this.
She hated how she was being used to ensure Grayfia could not use her full power.
Hated how scared Rias and Akeno and Yuuto and everyone looked as they desperately tried to reach her.
Hated how weak she was, unable to free herself.
Hated how scared she was.
Koneko hated how comfortable she felt in her sister's arms once more.
Kuroka looked at her younger sister and, amazingly, did as she asked.
Koneko stared, wide-eyed, as Kuroka put her back down to the ground.
The older girl leaned forward, lowering herself slightly till they were at eye level.
Even her clones stopped trying to attack Grayfia, keeping their Kasha burning to deal with the ice, but otherwise, they were not actively attacking anymore.
"Shirone," Kuroka said, far more serious than she had been since she had appeared. "I am sorry. It was necessary, but I am still sorry. Sorry that you were hurt. Sorry I had to leave you alone."
"...what?" Koneko hated how her voice cracked.
"I can't explain right now," Kuroka said, her black ears twitching from a sound Koneko couldn't hear. Her six tails writhed behind her in agitation. "But I will. Someday, you'll understand."
"You left," Koneko accused softly.
All her betrayal, all her heartbreak, all her fear, and all the love she had once felt were packed into two words.
"I did," Kuroka nodded gravely, and the tails sped up in their agitation as her ears drooped. "I will explain everything when I can. I am also sorry I scared you now. I just wanted to see you again. I am not here to take you away. I am sorry I have to leave again."
"...Why?"
Why did Kuroka leave her?
Why was she here now?
Why was she leaving again?
...Why wasn't she insane?
"Onee-sama wanted to see Shironyaa," Kuroka laughed, perking back up. "It's not time yet, but we'll be together soon. All three of us. Onee-sama promises."
A part of Koneko, the part that yearned for her older sister once again, the part she hated, wanted for it to be true. Wanted to believe her sister had her reasons. Koneko wanted the promise to come true.
But Kuroka had broken promises before.
"...Three?" Koneko couldn't help but ask. Who was she talking about?
"Onee-sama found herself a man, nyaa," Kuroka said proudly, her playful demeanour returning. "He's scary and strong and a bit too serious, but don't worry, Onee-sama will have amazing kittens."
...Was her sister actually insane and just been covering it up until now?
"Nyaa!?" Kuroka stumbled away as if she had been stabbed. "Don't look at Onee-sama like that! He's real!"
Koneko continued to watch her sister doubtfully. She didn't doubt Kuroka could find herself a man, she was beautiful after all, but why bring it up now?
What did that have to do with Koneko?
Did she think Koneko would go with her to meet him?
"I am never going with you," Koneko said firmly, the moments of calm giving her time to recompose herself slightly after her world had crashed around her. She looked to Rias, still blasting away at the ice that separated them. "I am staying with Buchou."
Kuroka looked like she was to say something again, but her ears twitched again, and instead, she summoned a wave of black fire to melt a part of the ice wall.
Right away, the wooden wall behind it collapsed, and the second armoured form crashed through. This one was white instead of red.
The figure didn't land on his back but skidded along the ice-covered floor, armoured feet carving a groove as his wings flashed.
[Divide]
For a brief moment, Koneko saw a flash of a blade that threatened to take the White Dragon Emperor's head off. Then it disappeared, and Mikasa stood beside Grayfia, a pair of shattered swords in hand.
"Nyaa?" Kuroka said curiously as she looked the pair of new arrivals over. "Vali? You're losing? Who's she?"
"Don't know. She's weak," the White Dragon Emperor said, and there was a note of glee in his voice. "Fast, but weak. No power at all. All I can divide are her swords as they hit me, and she must have hundreds."
Koneko heard her sister sigh and mumble something about 'battle maniacs.' Now that Koneko had a moment to look, she noticed the blue wings of Divine Dividing were surprisingly small. Much smaller than the massive blue wings they had been when he had taken down Kokabiel.
"Grayfia?" Mikasa asked lowly.
"I'll distract them," Grayfia said grimly. "Get Koneko."
Mikasa nodded, throwing away the destroyed swords and pulling two more European straight swords from who knew where.
Vali prepared himself with a laugh, more than ready and excited for the upcoming fight.
Kuroka wasn't having any of it.
Before any sort of conflict could begin, Vali slumped forward as a fourth Kuroka, hidden under an illusion until now, smacked him behind his head.
Koneko felt it. She felt the senjutsu pass through the armour of Albion's Balance Breaker and disrupt the brain within the skull, rendering him unconscious.
"Vali's an idiot, nyaa," Kuroka sighed as she slung him over her shoulder. "Instead of distracting the guards, he brought them near Shirone. No noodles for him for a week. But we need him, so I can't let you kill him."
"What are you doing here, Black Cat Kuroka," Grayfia asked again, not lowering her guard. "Have you joined these terrorists?"
"The Khaos Brigade? You have it wrong, nyaa~ They joined us." Kuroka paused, tilting her head, ears flickering as she grinned sadistically. "Not that they had a choice. Nyahahahaha~ This whole attack is that idiot Katarea's idea. She's not needed, so please kill her. Ah! Please kill everyone else who attacks you. You'd be doing us a favour, nyaa~."
Then she completely disregarded the two devils and looked back to Koneko, the White Dragon Emperor slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Onee-sama has to leave now, Shirone. I'll introduce you to brother-in-law later. I promise," Kuroka told her younger sister. "Just not now. Onee-sama needs to have a... talk with him about running off without telling anyone."
For a second, Koneko felt the malice she so feared. It practically radiated from the older girl before she and Vali dissipated in a shimmer of magic.
A part of Koneko wanted to reach out, begging her sister not to leave her again.
But she didn't.
Seeing Kuroka again brought it all back.
The confusion. The abandonment. The sting of betrayal. The pain.
Just because her sister seemed slightly sane and claimed to have a reason for her actions didn't erase everything Koneko had gone through.
And it didn't change what she had gained from that pain.
Even now, as Kuroka gave Koneko a quick hug before teleporting away, her new family was fighting to reach her.
Kuroka's farewell remained unanswered.
Koneko remained silent as her old family disappeared, and her new one embraced her in worried concern.
********
Hmmm, what to say this time?
First off, the peace conference always struck me as odd. I've already mentioned how the actual terms would have been negotiated ahead of time, and that was just the symbolic signing, but the Khaos Brigade's actions were also weird. I get the reasons from a Doylist perspective. It sets up a recurring villain group, gives Issei a chance to fight Vali, and shows off Azazel (who is an important character in DXD after this point).
From a Watsonian perspective, it makes absolutely zero sense. The Khaos Brigade went from an unknown actor to a known threat, showing off their trump (Ophis's power) and gained nothing for it. While it can be chalked up to Katarea being a moron (which she is), I want to play with that idea more. They have a reason, at least in this story. It's just a bit opaque at the moment from the character's perspective.
We also see Kuroka for the first time. She's the last main character I will focus on in this story, though I have one or two more side characters of import that will get some focus. She's obviously different from canon in some regards, but she's the same in others.
That's one of the things I love and struggle with when writing characters in fanfiction. How do you stay true to the original character while showing they have changed? So many things have to be taken into account.
For an example of my thought process: Issei is a Rook. This means Rias can't use Castling to rescue Gasper. But Mikasa is there. So she helps save him because she can't help power the spells that keep the area safe. Issei still gives Gasper blood to regain control and Rias to calm him down, but Issei doesn't need Azazel's device to maintain Balance Breaker. When Vali attacks, the hostages are a priority, as Mikasa would know from her past experience, so she leaves Issei to delay him.
All together, that train of logic accounts for one or two paragraphs in the story, but it is a good example of what can change with even superficial differences. If I want to be able to re-read this story when it is done and go, 'Yep, this is my new canon ending for AOT,' I need to be able to follow these trains of thought and convey them quickly and succinctly.
A bit of a peek behind the screen, but I hope it gives you all an idea of how I write. Either way, two more chapters in Part 2, then we will be on to Part 3, where things will shift once again.
I will meet you all next time on the bench.
PS: For those curious about power levels/abilities, the strongest nekomata in DxD has seven tails and is hundreds of years old. As far as we know in canon, both Shirone and Kuroka go up to three (so far), but are very young.
As for Vali Vs. Mikasa needs to touch someone to Divide their power, unlike what Fanon would have you believe. A speedy weapon user with no powers and hundreds of disposable weapons would be the perfect enemy. He'd still win in the end in a straight fight, but Mikasa could punch well above her weight class for a while and even kill Vali if she took him by surprise.
Two Sisters
Koneko was skipping class.
Rias knew. She offered no chastisement when told, pulling the more petite girl into a firm hug and letting Koneko know she was always available if she needed to talk.
Koneko hadn't wanted to talk.
She had wanted sleep.
Sleep that had eluded her for weeks.
The nightmares, the fear, it all prevented her from getting any rest.
Nee- Kuroka had no right to come back. She had no right to prance back into her life as if she had never left. She had no right to leave Koneko feeling scared, confused, and betrayed all over again.
Sometimes, the dreams were about the good times, brought back by warm arms and a familiar scent.
Most of the time, Koneko dreamed about a promise left unfulfilled, about being left behind.
Those were the worst because they weren't dreams. Just memories.
Mad with power. Corrupted by Senjutsu. That was what Koneko had been told about her sister's abandonment.
She had believed it.
Kuroka was certainly powerful now.
A six-tailed nekomata was almost at the pinnacle their race had ever reached. Combined with her already prodigious magical talent, enough to have needed two Bishops to reincarnate her, Kuroka was at least in the upper ranks of the Ultimate class if she was able to go toe to toe with Grayfia Lucifuge.
For a few minutes at least.
Neither had been using their full power, so Koneko didn't know where Nee- where Kuroka stood compared to Nee-san.
And that was the other source of Koneko's nightmares.
Kuroka had seemed... sane.
Powerful, certainly, but in control. Kuroka was so in control that she hadn't hurt anyone.
According to Issei, all she had done was join Vali when he and Mikasa were teaming up against him. Kuroka had used him to bash through the wall of ice but hadn't even hurt him enough for him to feel it.
And she had been able to fight the Strongest Queen. If Vali was keeping Mikasa busy, Kuroka could have killed Issei in a second.
When Kuroka had talked to Koneko, when she called that old name, held her close, and apologized, Kuroka had seemed perfectly, maddeningly sane.
Exactly as Koneko remembered her older sister being.
Which terrified Koneko.
Because she needed Kuroka to have gone mad.
Because it was the only thing that made sense. Only then could Koneko understand why she had been left behind.
If Kuroka hadn't gone mad, then Shirone had truly been abandoned.
The thoughts kept her up at night, tossing and turning. When she finally fell asleep, it was only to be awoken by the nightmares again.
After weeks without proper rest, even her Devil biology had been strained to limits. She was falling asleep in class, her training was going nowhere, and even her appetite was smaller than usual.
The others tried to help. They really did.
Asia tried to use her Sacred Gear on her almost daily, despite that not being how Twilight Healing actually worked.
Rias, Akeno, and Yuuto tried to get her to talk to them or offer what support they could. Xenovia thought training hard enough would put her right to sleep. Gya-kun had offered her one of his cardboard boxes... a tempting offer, to be sure, but one that hadn't helped.
Even the pervert had noticed and taken it upon himself to take over a few of her contractors.
They were all kind, but they weren't what she needed.
Koneko needed sleep. Sleep uninterrupted from long dreams.
So here she was, skipping school and sleeping in the only place she could.
On a supremely uncomfortable bench and an unfairly comfortable lap.
Koneko didn't know what it was about Eren's lap that just... relaxed her. Maybe it was because of how often they would go without saying a single word to each other. Or it could be because of how often he would join her in napping.
He had never said, just as she never did, but Koneko thought Eren had nightmares, too. It was the only reason she could think of why he slept as much as he did on the bench instead of in his bed at his house.
That silent comradery was... calming? Peaceful? Trustworthy?
Koneko didn't know the exact term, only that she liked it, and it allowed her to fall asleep on the older boy's lap and rest in a way she couldn't anywhere else.
Even knowing how much Ki was right beneath the surface was oddly... reassuring, in a way, like a warm fireplace to curl up by.
His blindness and the wards on the area meant she could fully relax and let out her ears and tail, something she hadn't realized had been contributing to her stress until she had started sleeping with them out.
Eren never touched her, and if he did, she'd just tell him she was wearing a headband, so she wasn't worried.
So Koneko spent the last day of the spring term before they left for the underworld napping on Eren's lap.
He had said nothing when she had joined him instead of going to class, just giving her a nod in greeting and letting her smaller form curl up against his leg, head on his lap.
He remained there, in silence, for hours. Just letting Koneko get the sleep she needed.
She did not dream.
When Koneko awoke in the warm afternoon sun, she was feeling better than she had in weeks.
She stayed there, eyes closed, luxuriating in the clarity of thought and the comfortable pillow.
The bench was still awful, though.
Fully rested, if still bleary, Koneko decided she was hungry.
With an absent thought, her tail reached down and brought her bag to her, careful not to brush against Eren. A cat ear headband was one thing. A tail would be a lot harder to explain.
Koneko rummaged around her bag, pushing books and pencils to the side to grab the food container. It was larger than most, but that was for good reason. Not only did it contain her lunch, but also the snacks she would munch on throughout the day.
Tossing the bookbag carelessly aside, Koneko opened it to root around for something appropriate when she froze.
There, on top of everything else, was a bag of homemade cakes.
That wasn't rare, as Akeno sometimes included treats like that for dessert when she made the Peerage's lunches.
These were not Akeno's cookies, however.
Akeno made deserts in the traditional Japanese style. Good, but without embellishments.
These came from Yuuto.
They were fancy, with an artistic flair that Akeno never used. They were some made jam, with frosting, with cream. There were brownies, macaroons, cookies, maple cream, and all sorts of others. And they were all shaped like little cats.
A small note was attached to the bag, written in Yuuto's precise handwriting.
'I hope you enjoy them and you feel better.'
Koneko didn't know when the Knight had snuck in the treats, but she was suddenly overcome with a surge of... something.
Something strong that made her eyes water slightly.
Memories of Rias, Akeno, and Yuuto welled up, and Koneko allowed herself a smile.
She rubbed the dampness away and held out a small cat filled with cream to Eren.
"Cookie?" She asked the boy who had remained completely silent until now.
He nodded and took it, munching on it as Koneko sat up and started devouring the treats with a much greater gusto.
"Thanks," Eren said as he finished the snack. "Yuuto's?"
"Yes," Koneko answered before holding out a cat-shaped chocolate chip cookie. "Another?"
Eren gave it some thought but eventually ate the sweet treat slowly.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, munching away in companionable silence.
After she had finished the snacks and the actual meal in the bento, Koneko stared at that little note the Knight had left.
"I have a sister."
"Hm?" Eren made a noise of confusion at the sudden utterance.
"She left," Koneko said simply, staring at the note. "Abandoned me."
"...I'm sorry."
"Rias took me in. She was kind. Her family is kind. Akeno, Yuuto, Gya-kun, Asia, even Xenovia and the pervert are kind. You are kind."
"...I'm not-"
"You asked if I was happy," Koneko interrupted his words. No doubt they'd be wrong. Eren was kind to her. "I am. I am happy. But my sister came back."
"And that makes you unhappy," Eren let out a sigh. "You cannot forgive her."
There was so much more than that.
Kuroka had killed her King. She was a Stray devil.
Even if she wasn't insane, which she very well might be, she was still a criminal. One in league with a terrorist organization that had attacked the peace conference.
"...No. I cannot."
A part of Koneko wanted to be happy, was happy, to see her sister again. The part that had worried for her and secretly prayed for her return every day for months after she had left.
But Kuroka brought so much pain, confusion, and betrayal back with her.
She had been gone for years. Years when Koneko had needed her the most.
And she walks back in with more power than ever and as a terrorist, promising they'd be together again.
It was all... too much. Too complicated. Too painful.
"Don't then," Eren said casually.
Koneko blinked, having been momentarily lost in her thoughts and not expecting such an answer.
"She hurt you, didn't she?" Eren asked, sensing Koneko's confusion. Koneko nodded.
Then Koneko realized she had done it again.
"...Yes."
"Whether she did it on purpose or not doesn't matter," Eren said, tapping his cane on the ground in thought as he spoke slowly. "We sometimes hurt the ones we love. On purpose or on accident. It doesn't matter. All that matters is the pain was real. Your sister came back? Then it is on her, not you, to fix things."
"...What if I want her back?" Koneko asked softly. Guiltily.
She had been happy with her life. Even after Kokabiel's attack, she had been recovering. But a part of her would always miss her sister, the sister who had cared for her when their mother died.
Koneko feared Kuroka.
Feared what her sister had become and what it meant for herself. Feared that the Black Cat would take her away from the family she had grown to love.
But you can still love someone who hurt you.
Conflicting emotion roiled and churned within her breast.
"She still hurt you," Eren shook his head. "Do not let her hurt you again. She has to be the one to start fixing things. Only you can decide when it is enough. When you can trust her to not hurt you again. She starts, you finish."
Koneko didn't know if she could ever trust her sister again. Not after everything. Not when she continued to use Senjutsu and threatened to take her from her new family.
Kuroka had said she wouldn't. Yet.
But Koneko could not trust the Black Cat to keep her word.
And she was still a terrorist.
Who knew what she was planning or who this 'brother-in-law' was?
There was just too much unknown.
Still...
"Thanks," Koneko said softly. "For listening."
Eren frowned softly and let out a sigh as he turned his head towards a sky he couldn't see.
"I had an older brother," he confessed.
"...What?" Koneko asked.
"We didn't know each other until we were older," Eren shrugged. "Different mothers. When he found out about me, his first goal was to reach me. To talk. We were on different sides, different armies, but he still wanted the best for the younger brother he never knew. He risked his life to 'rescue' me as he saw it."
"What happened?" Koneko couldn't help but ask.
Everyone had been slowly piecing together what they knew of Eren's past, Sona especially, to try and line things up with verifiable times and places, yet nothing fit together with what they had found.
The names he mentioned were not part of his former mercenary group, meaning they were probably child soldiers like him. Yet their names were Germanic, not consistent with his time in Africa. He was an orphan, yet he had found his parents and done something that led to their death.
Now he had an older brother?
Nobody thought Eren was lying to them. The emotion was too raw, too painful for it to be lies, yet there was a disconnect here. A missing link that would tie everything together.
Any time Eren spoke of his past, it was a rare, precious thing. Only once every few weeks or months, it not only provided another piece to the puzzle, it also gave them a better grasp of who he had been before... this.
Before he had been exiled to die alone on a bench in Kuoh.
And, a small part of Koneko whispered, Eren only used his past to try and help them. So they would avoid what he saw as his own mistakes.
Those were not the actions of a liar.
"I betrayed him," Eren sighed again. "In many ways, he was the better man. Our father was not kind to him, yet his first response to finding out I lived was to try and save me from what he thought were similar circumstances. I think... I think he did love me. He did everything he could to bring me over to his viewpoint. To be a good big brother. And I used it against him. I manipulated him, fought him, and did the one thing he sought to prevent. His plan was a travesty I would never agree with, but mine was worse. We fought. I won. And my comrades killed him, as I knew they would."
"...Did you love him?"
"...I don't think I did," Eren admitted. "It was too late by then. Not only had he killed many of my comrades, too many, but I was set on my path by the time we really got to talk. If I had told him my real plan, he would never have agreed, just as I couldn't agree to his. We were both two very different people. I didn't love him. But I could have. In another world, one less cruel, one where we grew up together, I could have loved my big brother."
Eren turned, facing her directly.
"I have never been in your position," he admitted. "I have been in your sister's. Both with my brother and with my real family. I hurt them both. Intentionally and unintentionally. One brother, the one I was related to, I didn't love. I used him. The other wasn't blood, but I loved him like a brother. The former, I did not seek forgiveness from. The latter? I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I wanted to be understood. Even though I didn't deserve it, I wanted to be forgiven."
The situations were different. The scale was larger than Eren could understand, involving peace between factions, terrorism, and grudges that had their roots millennia in the past. Powers a mortal could not understand.
Yet Eren's message, spoken with such regret, guilt, and love, carved itself in Koneko's heart.
"Find out which of these two your sister is, then make your choice. I can't make it for you. All I can say is that if I had the chance, I would still be begging for forgiveness from the brother I loved."
Koneko didn't nod or say anything.
She just wrapped the older boy in a hug, letting him know without words that she understood.
They stayed like that till it was time for Koneko to leave, waiving one last goodbye to Eren before she left for the summer with the rest of her friends.
Then she hurried away in embarrassment, realizing she had done it again.
Eren was left alone as the sun set in the park.
"Are you going to come down now?"
"Nyahahaha," Kuroka giggled as she dropped from the tree, shifting back into human form. "How'd you know?"
"I sensed you," Eren said simply. "A while ago."
"Ara? You managed to learn sensing?" Kuroka asked as she sashayed over to the bench.
"I've had a year to practice," Eren deadpanned as if saying that even he could learn something with that much time. "I've been waiting for you to do something for weeks."
"Like what, nyaa?" Kuroka asked as she nuzzled up against the blind boy.
"Vali attacked me as soon as he saw me," Eren shrugged. "I thought you'd do the same."
"Nyaa?" Kuroka hummed in confusion. "You should have seen I'd never hurt you."
"Vali didn't tell you," Eren asked with a head tilt. "While I'm on this bench, I can't see anything. I am blind."
Kuroka's eyes widened, reaching for that familiar connection with her Senjutsu.
It wasn't there.
She could still sense Eren since she was touching him, enormously diminished as he was, but she could not reach out further.
The Path was closed to her.
"Are you..." Kuroka hesitated, tails whipping back and forth in agitation. "Are you okay?"
Sitting here, feeling how weak Eren had become, Kuroka could not help the fear and pain that gripped her heart.
Her Titan looked so... fragile. So frail.
And yet...
"It's almost time," Eren acknowledged. "I don't have much time left."
Kuroka closed her eyes in pain.
Eren had never kept his short life a secret from her, as he did their allies.
He had done it to dissuade her when she started ramping up her attempts to win him over fully. He tried to never lie to her about the true nature of their relationship. All it had done was spur her on.
Eren said he would never have children, but Kuroka was determined to prove him wrong. If he was wrong about that, he could be wrong about his death.
"I'll keep my promise," Eren reassured. "It is only when I am here that I can't see the Path. Everything else will go exactly as planned. It's already happened for me."
That wasn't what she was worried about, this stupid man.
Kuroka burrowed her head deeper for a second, taking in the long, familiar scent and reassuring warmth.
Then she sat up.
She would change the future. Eren wouldn't die. He'd live a long and happy life.
And they'd have lots of kittens.
As always, the idea of Titan Nekomata sent a trill of humour, wonder, and pleasure down Kuroka's spine.
Giant kittens pawing around the underworld, chasing massive balls of yarn and causing earthquakes as they tumbled around.
Screw dragons, that would be the strongest race.
Speaking of kittens...
"Thank you," Kuroka said softly, leaning against Eren's shoulder. "For taking care of Shirone."
Eren just nodded as if it was the expected thing to do.
"Still," the Stray Bishop couldn't help but pout. "You could have gone easier on me. Couldn't you have told Shirone to accept her Nee-sama back?"
"You hurt her," Eren shook his head. "You had good reason, but you still hurt her. You must make up for it if you want to be a part of her life again. I promised you the chance. Everything else is up to you two. I can't see that far."
"You're such a serious man, nyaa," Kuroka complained playfully.
"One of us has to be," Eren nodded severely. "You? Bikou? Or the Ramen Dragon?"
Kuroka froze, staring at the boy with eyes wide in shock.
Had Eren... made a joke?
She couldn't help it.
"Nyahahahahahah," Kuroka howled with laughter. More than the joke itself, the unexpectedness and the relief had her laughing and laughing.
Eren bore with it, not smiling or even acknowledging his attempt at humour, but Kuroka knew him best out of anyone in this world.
She saw the way his shoulders slacked, the looseness on his face, and the way his face slightly angled away in the slightest hint of embarrassment.
Kuroka had been scared. Scared that Eren had gone off to die. That he had disappeared, never to be seen again.
Kuroka had been scared that she would never learn what happened to the man she had come to love as he, in his stupidly headstrong nature, had advanced to some future she couldn't follow.
Kuroka had not heard one word about him for over a year despite looking all over the world and the underworld for him.
To find out he had never left Kuoh after she asked him to check on Shirone... It was as infuriating as it was worrying.
He looked worse than ever.
Of the young boy who had destroyed a Devil lineage just to meet with her, only a sickly man remained.
Yet, after watching him for the last few weeks, Kuroka had realized something.
Eren was... better than ever. More whole. Still dour and severe, still Eren, but the edge was duller.
He was still walking forward, but it wasn't a mad dash anymore.
It gave her hope that she could finally reach him.
"Nyahaha," Kuroka's laughter petered out as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Did you call him that, nyaa? Albion must have been angry."
Eren didn't answer, but Kuroka had enough fun imagining the scene that it didn't matter if he did or not.
Still, if Eren was going to be more open...
"Hey," Kuroka said gently as her giggles quieted. "Tell me about him."
"Hm?"
"Your brother."
"There's not much to say," Eren sighed. "Like I told Shirone, I didn't know about him till I was older, and we were on opposite sides."
"Not him, nyaa," Kuroka scooted slightly away from Eren and gently guided Eren to fall onto her lap, resting his head against her thighs as he had done for Shirone. Eren let her. Trusting her. "The other one. The one you loved. Did he ever forgive you?"
Eren lay there, facing the sky, as she ran her hands through his long hair. The bandages were annoying, but she knew their purpose, so Kuroka left them alone.
For a long minute, Kuroka thought he wouldn't answer. So many times, she had asked about his past. So many times, she had gotten nothing but silence for her efforts.
That was all right.
Eren didn't have to say anything.
Kuroka's curiosity was a strong thing, one that would never be slacked until she knew everything there was to know about Eren Yeager, no matter how long it took.
If he wouldn't speak now, if he didn't want to talk about it, Kuroka would wait a thousand years if that was what it took.
For what he did for her, what he would do for her, she could wait.
It was a surprise when he actually spoke.
"No," Eren denied. "He never forgave me. What I had done, would do, wasn't something that could be forgiven. Instead, Armin promised me something. He'd shoulder the blame with me."
"He must have loved you," Kuroka said softly, a rumble of purr escaping her.
"Armin was my best friend," Eren said quietly. "The smartest of us. The best of us. My brother in every way but blood."
Kuroka didn't say anything more, continuing to run her fingers through his hair as the sun set.
"I have so many regrets. Too many. I stand by my actions, no matter how much I regret them. It was needed. Of my actions, I would only change two."
The guilt was cloying in his voice as Eren grit his teeth.
"He promised to meet me in hell..." Eren paused, letting out a choking breath. "Being reborn in this world means I won't be there. When I go to hell, it will be a different one. I am not worried. He would never have gone to hell. I entrusted the world to him. There is no way he'd ever go to hell. He's too good. Too moral. Ultimately, he could not cast away his humanity, and I am so proud of him." Eren choked down a sob. "I just wish... All I wish is that I could have told Armin goodbye."
For all that Eren tried to appear emotionless and uncaring, rebuffing her attempts to sway his heart and showing a strong front, Kuroka noticed he had never let go of her gift as tears trailed down his face.
Eren's fingers rubbed the two wings as he lay his head on her lap, and they rested together once again.
The sun set on old friends and comrades finally reunited, as the pair spent a warm summer night on the bench.
********
A bit more of a deep dive into Koneko's state, a taste of Kuroka and Eren's relationship, and a reflection on his perception of Zeke.
My personal take on the two brothers has always been that Zeke sincerely tried to work with Eren and came to care about him, but that wasn't returned. By then, Eren had already seen a flash of the future during the ceremony with Historia. He spent years searching for proof that he could change his future, that the Rumbling wasn't the only option, but he could never find it. Zeke, as the royal Eren would use instead of Historia, couldn't breach his heart because he knew Zeke's plan, which he disagreed with, and knew Zeke would die with him.
We have one more chapter in part 2, then we'll move on to part 3. I will meet you all next time on the bench.
Rias knew. She offered no chastisement when told, pulling the more petite girl into a firm hug and letting Koneko know she was always available if she needed to talk.
Koneko hadn't wanted to talk.
She had wanted sleep.
Sleep that had eluded her for weeks.
The nightmares, the fear, it all prevented her from getting any rest.
Nee- Kuroka had no right to come back. She had no right to prance back into her life as if she had never left. She had no right to leave Koneko feeling scared, confused, and betrayed all over again.
Sometimes, the dreams were about the good times, brought back by warm arms and a familiar scent.
Most of the time, Koneko dreamed about a promise left unfulfilled, about being left behind.
Those were the worst because they weren't dreams. Just memories.
Mad with power. Corrupted by Senjutsu. That was what Koneko had been told about her sister's abandonment.
She had believed it.
Kuroka was certainly powerful now.
A six-tailed nekomata was almost at the pinnacle their race had ever reached. Combined with her already prodigious magical talent, enough to have needed two Bishops to reincarnate her, Kuroka was at least in the upper ranks of the Ultimate class if she was able to go toe to toe with Grayfia Lucifuge.
For a few minutes at least.
Neither had been using their full power, so Koneko didn't know where Nee- where Kuroka stood compared to Nee-san.
And that was the other source of Koneko's nightmares.
Kuroka had seemed... sane.
Powerful, certainly, but in control. Kuroka was so in control that she hadn't hurt anyone.
According to Issei, all she had done was join Vali when he and Mikasa were teaming up against him. Kuroka had used him to bash through the wall of ice but hadn't even hurt him enough for him to feel it.
And she had been able to fight the Strongest Queen. If Vali was keeping Mikasa busy, Kuroka could have killed Issei in a second.
When Kuroka had talked to Koneko, when she called that old name, held her close, and apologized, Kuroka had seemed perfectly, maddeningly sane.
Exactly as Koneko remembered her older sister being.
Which terrified Koneko.
Because she needed Kuroka to have gone mad.
Because it was the only thing that made sense. Only then could Koneko understand why she had been left behind.
If Kuroka hadn't gone mad, then Shirone had truly been abandoned.
The thoughts kept her up at night, tossing and turning. When she finally fell asleep, it was only to be awoken by the nightmares again.
After weeks without proper rest, even her Devil biology had been strained to limits. She was falling asleep in class, her training was going nowhere, and even her appetite was smaller than usual.
The others tried to help. They really did.
Asia tried to use her Sacred Gear on her almost daily, despite that not being how Twilight Healing actually worked.
Rias, Akeno, and Yuuto tried to get her to talk to them or offer what support they could. Xenovia thought training hard enough would put her right to sleep. Gya-kun had offered her one of his cardboard boxes... a tempting offer, to be sure, but one that hadn't helped.
Even the pervert had noticed and taken it upon himself to take over a few of her contractors.
They were all kind, but they weren't what she needed.
Koneko needed sleep. Sleep uninterrupted from long dreams.
So here she was, skipping school and sleeping in the only place she could.
On a supremely uncomfortable bench and an unfairly comfortable lap.
Koneko didn't know what it was about Eren's lap that just... relaxed her. Maybe it was because of how often they would go without saying a single word to each other. Or it could be because of how often he would join her in napping.
He had never said, just as she never did, but Koneko thought Eren had nightmares, too. It was the only reason she could think of why he slept as much as he did on the bench instead of in his bed at his house.
That silent comradery was... calming? Peaceful? Trustworthy?
Koneko didn't know the exact term, only that she liked it, and it allowed her to fall asleep on the older boy's lap and rest in a way she couldn't anywhere else.
Even knowing how much Ki was right beneath the surface was oddly... reassuring, in a way, like a warm fireplace to curl up by.
His blindness and the wards on the area meant she could fully relax and let out her ears and tail, something she hadn't realized had been contributing to her stress until she had started sleeping with them out.
Eren never touched her, and if he did, she'd just tell him she was wearing a headband, so she wasn't worried.
So Koneko spent the last day of the spring term before they left for the underworld napping on Eren's lap.
He had said nothing when she had joined him instead of going to class, just giving her a nod in greeting and letting her smaller form curl up against his leg, head on his lap.
He remained there, in silence, for hours. Just letting Koneko get the sleep she needed.
She did not dream.
When Koneko awoke in the warm afternoon sun, she was feeling better than she had in weeks.
She stayed there, eyes closed, luxuriating in the clarity of thought and the comfortable pillow.
The bench was still awful, though.
Fully rested, if still bleary, Koneko decided she was hungry.
With an absent thought, her tail reached down and brought her bag to her, careful not to brush against Eren. A cat ear headband was one thing. A tail would be a lot harder to explain.
Koneko rummaged around her bag, pushing books and pencils to the side to grab the food container. It was larger than most, but that was for good reason. Not only did it contain her lunch, but also the snacks she would munch on throughout the day.
Tossing the bookbag carelessly aside, Koneko opened it to root around for something appropriate when she froze.
There, on top of everything else, was a bag of homemade cakes.
That wasn't rare, as Akeno sometimes included treats like that for dessert when she made the Peerage's lunches.
These were not Akeno's cookies, however.
Akeno made deserts in the traditional Japanese style. Good, but without embellishments.
These came from Yuuto.
They were fancy, with an artistic flair that Akeno never used. They were some made jam, with frosting, with cream. There were brownies, macaroons, cookies, maple cream, and all sorts of others. And they were all shaped like little cats.
A small note was attached to the bag, written in Yuuto's precise handwriting.
'I hope you enjoy them and you feel better.'
Koneko didn't know when the Knight had snuck in the treats, but she was suddenly overcome with a surge of... something.
Something strong that made her eyes water slightly.
Memories of Rias, Akeno, and Yuuto welled up, and Koneko allowed herself a smile.
She rubbed the dampness away and held out a small cat filled with cream to Eren.
"Cookie?" She asked the boy who had remained completely silent until now.
He nodded and took it, munching on it as Koneko sat up and started devouring the treats with a much greater gusto.
"Thanks," Eren said as he finished the snack. "Yuuto's?"
"Yes," Koneko answered before holding out a cat-shaped chocolate chip cookie. "Another?"
Eren gave it some thought but eventually ate the sweet treat slowly.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, munching away in companionable silence.
After she had finished the snacks and the actual meal in the bento, Koneko stared at that little note the Knight had left.
"I have a sister."
"Hm?" Eren made a noise of confusion at the sudden utterance.
"She left," Koneko said simply, staring at the note. "Abandoned me."
"...I'm sorry."
"Rias took me in. She was kind. Her family is kind. Akeno, Yuuto, Gya-kun, Asia, even Xenovia and the pervert are kind. You are kind."
"...I'm not-"
"You asked if I was happy," Koneko interrupted his words. No doubt they'd be wrong. Eren was kind to her. "I am. I am happy. But my sister came back."
"And that makes you unhappy," Eren let out a sigh. "You cannot forgive her."
There was so much more than that.
Kuroka had killed her King. She was a Stray devil.
Even if she wasn't insane, which she very well might be, she was still a criminal. One in league with a terrorist organization that had attacked the peace conference.
"...No. I cannot."
A part of Koneko wanted to be happy, was happy, to see her sister again. The part that had worried for her and secretly prayed for her return every day for months after she had left.
But Kuroka brought so much pain, confusion, and betrayal back with her.
She had been gone for years. Years when Koneko had needed her the most.
And she walks back in with more power than ever and as a terrorist, promising they'd be together again.
It was all... too much. Too complicated. Too painful.
"Don't then," Eren said casually.
Koneko blinked, having been momentarily lost in her thoughts and not expecting such an answer.
"She hurt you, didn't she?" Eren asked, sensing Koneko's confusion. Koneko nodded.
Then Koneko realized she had done it again.
"...Yes."
"Whether she did it on purpose or not doesn't matter," Eren said, tapping his cane on the ground in thought as he spoke slowly. "We sometimes hurt the ones we love. On purpose or on accident. It doesn't matter. All that matters is the pain was real. Your sister came back? Then it is on her, not you, to fix things."
"...What if I want her back?" Koneko asked softly. Guiltily.
She had been happy with her life. Even after Kokabiel's attack, she had been recovering. But a part of her would always miss her sister, the sister who had cared for her when their mother died.
Koneko feared Kuroka.
Feared what her sister had become and what it meant for herself. Feared that the Black Cat would take her away from the family she had grown to love.
But you can still love someone who hurt you.
Conflicting emotion roiled and churned within her breast.
"She still hurt you," Eren shook his head. "Do not let her hurt you again. She has to be the one to start fixing things. Only you can decide when it is enough. When you can trust her to not hurt you again. She starts, you finish."
Koneko didn't know if she could ever trust her sister again. Not after everything. Not when she continued to use Senjutsu and threatened to take her from her new family.
Kuroka had said she wouldn't. Yet.
But Koneko could not trust the Black Cat to keep her word.
And she was still a terrorist.
Who knew what she was planning or who this 'brother-in-law' was?
There was just too much unknown.
Still...
"Thanks," Koneko said softly. "For listening."
Eren frowned softly and let out a sigh as he turned his head towards a sky he couldn't see.
"I had an older brother," he confessed.
"...What?" Koneko asked.
"We didn't know each other until we were older," Eren shrugged. "Different mothers. When he found out about me, his first goal was to reach me. To talk. We were on different sides, different armies, but he still wanted the best for the younger brother he never knew. He risked his life to 'rescue' me as he saw it."
"What happened?" Koneko couldn't help but ask.
Everyone had been slowly piecing together what they knew of Eren's past, Sona especially, to try and line things up with verifiable times and places, yet nothing fit together with what they had found.
The names he mentioned were not part of his former mercenary group, meaning they were probably child soldiers like him. Yet their names were Germanic, not consistent with his time in Africa. He was an orphan, yet he had found his parents and done something that led to their death.
Now he had an older brother?
Nobody thought Eren was lying to them. The emotion was too raw, too painful for it to be lies, yet there was a disconnect here. A missing link that would tie everything together.
Any time Eren spoke of his past, it was a rare, precious thing. Only once every few weeks or months, it not only provided another piece to the puzzle, it also gave them a better grasp of who he had been before... this.
Before he had been exiled to die alone on a bench in Kuoh.
And, a small part of Koneko whispered, Eren only used his past to try and help them. So they would avoid what he saw as his own mistakes.
Those were not the actions of a liar.
"I betrayed him," Eren sighed again. "In many ways, he was the better man. Our father was not kind to him, yet his first response to finding out I lived was to try and save me from what he thought were similar circumstances. I think... I think he did love me. He did everything he could to bring me over to his viewpoint. To be a good big brother. And I used it against him. I manipulated him, fought him, and did the one thing he sought to prevent. His plan was a travesty I would never agree with, but mine was worse. We fought. I won. And my comrades killed him, as I knew they would."
"...Did you love him?"
"...I don't think I did," Eren admitted. "It was too late by then. Not only had he killed many of my comrades, too many, but I was set on my path by the time we really got to talk. If I had told him my real plan, he would never have agreed, just as I couldn't agree to his. We were both two very different people. I didn't love him. But I could have. In another world, one less cruel, one where we grew up together, I could have loved my big brother."
Eren turned, facing her directly.
"I have never been in your position," he admitted. "I have been in your sister's. Both with my brother and with my real family. I hurt them both. Intentionally and unintentionally. One brother, the one I was related to, I didn't love. I used him. The other wasn't blood, but I loved him like a brother. The former, I did not seek forgiveness from. The latter? I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I wanted to be understood. Even though I didn't deserve it, I wanted to be forgiven."
The situations were different. The scale was larger than Eren could understand, involving peace between factions, terrorism, and grudges that had their roots millennia in the past. Powers a mortal could not understand.
Yet Eren's message, spoken with such regret, guilt, and love, carved itself in Koneko's heart.
"Find out which of these two your sister is, then make your choice. I can't make it for you. All I can say is that if I had the chance, I would still be begging for forgiveness from the brother I loved."
Koneko didn't nod or say anything.
She just wrapped the older boy in a hug, letting him know without words that she understood.
They stayed like that till it was time for Koneko to leave, waiving one last goodbye to Eren before she left for the summer with the rest of her friends.
Then she hurried away in embarrassment, realizing she had done it again.
Eren was left alone as the sun set in the park.
"Are you going to come down now?"
"Nyahahaha," Kuroka giggled as she dropped from the tree, shifting back into human form. "How'd you know?"
"I sensed you," Eren said simply. "A while ago."
"Ara? You managed to learn sensing?" Kuroka asked as she sashayed over to the bench.
"I've had a year to practice," Eren deadpanned as if saying that even he could learn something with that much time. "I've been waiting for you to do something for weeks."
"Like what, nyaa?" Kuroka asked as she nuzzled up against the blind boy.
"Vali attacked me as soon as he saw me," Eren shrugged. "I thought you'd do the same."
"Nyaa?" Kuroka hummed in confusion. "You should have seen I'd never hurt you."
"Vali didn't tell you," Eren asked with a head tilt. "While I'm on this bench, I can't see anything. I am blind."
Kuroka's eyes widened, reaching for that familiar connection with her Senjutsu.
It wasn't there.
She could still sense Eren since she was touching him, enormously diminished as he was, but she could not reach out further.
The Path was closed to her.
"Are you..." Kuroka hesitated, tails whipping back and forth in agitation. "Are you okay?"
Sitting here, feeling how weak Eren had become, Kuroka could not help the fear and pain that gripped her heart.
Her Titan looked so... fragile. So frail.
And yet...
"It's almost time," Eren acknowledged. "I don't have much time left."
Kuroka closed her eyes in pain.
Eren had never kept his short life a secret from her, as he did their allies.
He had done it to dissuade her when she started ramping up her attempts to win him over fully. He tried to never lie to her about the true nature of their relationship. All it had done was spur her on.
Eren said he would never have children, but Kuroka was determined to prove him wrong. If he was wrong about that, he could be wrong about his death.
"I'll keep my promise," Eren reassured. "It is only when I am here that I can't see the Path. Everything else will go exactly as planned. It's already happened for me."
That wasn't what she was worried about, this stupid man.
Kuroka burrowed her head deeper for a second, taking in the long, familiar scent and reassuring warmth.
Then she sat up.
She would change the future. Eren wouldn't die. He'd live a long and happy life.
And they'd have lots of kittens.
As always, the idea of Titan Nekomata sent a trill of humour, wonder, and pleasure down Kuroka's spine.
Giant kittens pawing around the underworld, chasing massive balls of yarn and causing earthquakes as they tumbled around.
Screw dragons, that would be the strongest race.
Speaking of kittens...
"Thank you," Kuroka said softly, leaning against Eren's shoulder. "For taking care of Shirone."
Eren just nodded as if it was the expected thing to do.
"Still," the Stray Bishop couldn't help but pout. "You could have gone easier on me. Couldn't you have told Shirone to accept her Nee-sama back?"
"You hurt her," Eren shook his head. "You had good reason, but you still hurt her. You must make up for it if you want to be a part of her life again. I promised you the chance. Everything else is up to you two. I can't see that far."
"You're such a serious man, nyaa," Kuroka complained playfully.
"One of us has to be," Eren nodded severely. "You? Bikou? Or the Ramen Dragon?"
Kuroka froze, staring at the boy with eyes wide in shock.
Had Eren... made a joke?
She couldn't help it.
"Nyahahahahahah," Kuroka howled with laughter. More than the joke itself, the unexpectedness and the relief had her laughing and laughing.
Eren bore with it, not smiling or even acknowledging his attempt at humour, but Kuroka knew him best out of anyone in this world.
She saw the way his shoulders slacked, the looseness on his face, and the way his face slightly angled away in the slightest hint of embarrassment.
Kuroka had been scared. Scared that Eren had gone off to die. That he had disappeared, never to be seen again.
Kuroka had been scared that she would never learn what happened to the man she had come to love as he, in his stupidly headstrong nature, had advanced to some future she couldn't follow.
Kuroka had not heard one word about him for over a year despite looking all over the world and the underworld for him.
To find out he had never left Kuoh after she asked him to check on Shirone... It was as infuriating as it was worrying.
He looked worse than ever.
Of the young boy who had destroyed a Devil lineage just to meet with her, only a sickly man remained.
Yet, after watching him for the last few weeks, Kuroka had realized something.
Eren was... better than ever. More whole. Still dour and severe, still Eren, but the edge was duller.
He was still walking forward, but it wasn't a mad dash anymore.
It gave her hope that she could finally reach him.
"Nyahaha," Kuroka's laughter petered out as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Did you call him that, nyaa? Albion must have been angry."
Eren didn't answer, but Kuroka had enough fun imagining the scene that it didn't matter if he did or not.
Still, if Eren was going to be more open...
"Hey," Kuroka said gently as her giggles quieted. "Tell me about him."
"Hm?"
"Your brother."
"There's not much to say," Eren sighed. "Like I told Shirone, I didn't know about him till I was older, and we were on opposite sides."
"Not him, nyaa," Kuroka scooted slightly away from Eren and gently guided Eren to fall onto her lap, resting his head against her thighs as he had done for Shirone. Eren let her. Trusting her. "The other one. The one you loved. Did he ever forgive you?"
Eren lay there, facing the sky, as she ran her hands through his long hair. The bandages were annoying, but she knew their purpose, so Kuroka left them alone.
For a long minute, Kuroka thought he wouldn't answer. So many times, she had asked about his past. So many times, she had gotten nothing but silence for her efforts.
That was all right.
Eren didn't have to say anything.
Kuroka's curiosity was a strong thing, one that would never be slacked until she knew everything there was to know about Eren Yeager, no matter how long it took.
If he wouldn't speak now, if he didn't want to talk about it, Kuroka would wait a thousand years if that was what it took.
For what he did for her, what he would do for her, she could wait.
It was a surprise when he actually spoke.
"No," Eren denied. "He never forgave me. What I had done, would do, wasn't something that could be forgiven. Instead, Armin promised me something. He'd shoulder the blame with me."
"He must have loved you," Kuroka said softly, a rumble of purr escaping her.
"Armin was my best friend," Eren said quietly. "The smartest of us. The best of us. My brother in every way but blood."
Kuroka didn't say anything more, continuing to run her fingers through his hair as the sun set.
"I have so many regrets. Too many. I stand by my actions, no matter how much I regret them. It was needed. Of my actions, I would only change two."
The guilt was cloying in his voice as Eren grit his teeth.
"He promised to meet me in hell..." Eren paused, letting out a choking breath. "Being reborn in this world means I won't be there. When I go to hell, it will be a different one. I am not worried. He would never have gone to hell. I entrusted the world to him. There is no way he'd ever go to hell. He's too good. Too moral. Ultimately, he could not cast away his humanity, and I am so proud of him." Eren choked down a sob. "I just wish... All I wish is that I could have told Armin goodbye."
For all that Eren tried to appear emotionless and uncaring, rebuffing her attempts to sway his heart and showing a strong front, Kuroka noticed he had never let go of her gift as tears trailed down his face.
Eren's fingers rubbed the two wings as he lay his head on her lap, and they rested together once again.
The sun set on old friends and comrades finally reunited, as the pair spent a warm summer night on the bench.
********
A bit more of a deep dive into Koneko's state, a taste of Kuroka and Eren's relationship, and a reflection on his perception of Zeke.
My personal take on the two brothers has always been that Zeke sincerely tried to work with Eren and came to care about him, but that wasn't returned. By then, Eren had already seen a flash of the future during the ceremony with Historia. He spent years searching for proof that he could change his future, that the Rumbling wasn't the only option, but he could never find it. Zeke, as the royal Eren would use instead of Historia, couldn't breach his heart because he knew Zeke's plan, which he disagreed with, and knew Zeke would die with him.
We have one more chapter in part 2, then we'll move on to part 3. I will meet you all next time on the bench.
Everything was sad and dour but this is heaven.
Goodbye
"I'll be right outside; just press the button if you need me, sir," Mikasa heard the nurse say, voice filled with almost reverent awe.
"Thank you," Armin said absentmindedly, not paying the nurse attention as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
The steady beeping of the machine and the woman's heavy breathing on the bed were the only sounds left in the room.
It wasn't enough to completely drown out the crowd's noise outside the building.
Armin couldn't go anywhere without some form of hubbub, and he had forgone discretion to arrive as soon as possible.
It used to worry her. Armin used to be such a shy boy, needing her and... Needing people to help him. He had grown to be so much more since then, but she never forgot who they used to be, and she never forgot her worry for her friend. Even in her state, Mikasa couldn't help but take a long look at the man she hadn't seen in a few months.
Armin looked... old.
Once blond hair now hung in wispy grey strands. His skin was sunken and pale, hanging too loosely on his bones. He barely stood with the help of a cane.
Not that she was any better.
Various instruments and tubes were attached to withered flesh, meant to keep her alive.
Not that Mikasa cared about living much longer.
Armin Artlet, her best and last friend, was dying.
Mikasa had known this would happen one day. She was just lucky that she was going first.
As if to make up for their once limited life span, the former titan shifters had retained some fraction of the enhanced vitality they once possessed. They had outlived almost everyone.
Yet, not even they could ignore the march of time.
Armin was the last. The last human to ever be a titan to still walk the earth.
The Last Titan.
It had been a long life. A full life.
Armin had seen the worst of humanity and rose against it. For all the terrible things he had seen and done in his youth, he had dedicated the rest of his life to bringing peace and happiness to the world so that others might not suffer as he did. He had fallen in love, built a family, and still found time to curb humanity's worst impulses.
Armin was a large part of the reason that the rebuilding of the world after the Rumbling had gone so well. That peace had lasted so long after the Battle of Heaven and Earth.
It had been a long and happy life.
So he sat quietly at her bedside, holding Mikasa's withered hand with what little strength he still possessed.
Even if an Ackerman lived long, she wasn't immune to time either. Her life had been much simpler by comparison. She had had enough of fighting with the world as a whole. It had been selfish of her, but Mikasa had left the future to those best qualified to build it.
She, too, had a long and happy life.
And here they were, the last of the 104th Trainee Corps. The last Scouts.
They were all that remained of a much crueller era.
"I'm sorry," Armin suddenly said.
"For what?" Mikasa asked weakly.
"For leaving you alone for so long."
"I wasn't alone," she said. "I had Grisha and Ymir. Erwin and Hange visit, too. You should be proud."
"I am. I saw them outside."
Armin's wizened face stretched into that boyhood smile at the mention of his children for the tiniest of seconds. Mikasa's heart swelled, but it was gone too fast. In its place was the world-weary look he had most days since Annie's death.
"But I am still sorry. I ran around for so long and haven't made time for you. And now this. I came as soon as I heard."
"Don't apologize," Mikasa chastised. "I couldn't do half of what you did."
Armin's laugh devolved into a coughing fit, but he waived her off when she was about to call a nurse.
"Cough. Don't, ack, bother," Armin said, barely getting his breathing under control. "Eren would punch me if a cough ended up killing me after everything."
Mikasa's heart throbbed in familiar pain at the name, but she didn't let it show as Armin settled back into his seat.
"You'll be fine," Armin said with what strength and hope he could muster. "We've gone through worse. You've gone through worse."
"I won't," Mikasa said, a note of finality in her voice. "This is it. I know it is. The end of my path. I am not sorry. I refuse to bury you, too."
"It won't be long for me either."
"Don't say that," Mikasa begged, eyes tearing up as she grasped his hand as tightly as she could. As if her measly strength could hold onto him.
"It's true," Armin sighed. "Ever since Annie... passed, I knew my time would come. I tried to hold out. I really did, but I can't anymore. I'm sorry."
Mikasa didn't say anything, just clutching his hand tightly and closing her eyes as if it would stop the tears.
It didn't.
The beep beep beep of the machine echoed through the room.
"I..." Armin paused, unsure of what to say.
"What," Mikasa croaked, voice feeble.
"I dreamed of him," Armin said, and Mikasa opened red-rimmed eyes to see him staring at the ceiling. "Eren."
He didn't need to clarify.
Even after all these years, there was only one 'him.'
Mikasa's breath hitched as the familiar pain echoed, reinforced by the sadness of impending loss.
"He was the same as I remember him," Armin said, his voice wistful. Nostalgic. Far away, as if he was seeing something she couldn't. "It's been so long, and he was so young. I was young. It was like we were talking in the Paths again."
Armin reached out as if cupping something in his hands he couldn't see.
Then his arm lost strength and fell to the bed.
"He came to say goodbye."
Armin's voice cracked, and tears beaded his eyes.
"Not 'see you later.' Goodbye."
"...Armin?" Mikasa asked as the tears flowed freely from the dying man.
"He told me-" Armin's voice cut out as he sobbed. "He said he was proud of me. That I had helped create a better world. That I had kept my promise to him. He told me I wasn't going to hell. He told me I'd done too much good. I can't go to hell. That it would be the last time we saw each other."
These were the tears of an old man. Tears of a good man who did terrible things for his people, country and friends. Who had helped kill his best friend.
The tears of an old man who had finally been forgiven yet could not forgive himself.
"And I was... relieved."
The old man was openly weeping now. In a way he hadn't done in years, the tears streamed from his eyes as he looked at her with pleading eyes.
"I was so damn relieved!" Armin said, self-disgust in his voice as he pounded the bed with feeble strength. "I promised him, Mikasa! I promised Eren! I promised I'd meet him in hell! That I would help shoulder the responsibility. And when I found out I wouldn't? That I'd see Annie again? I was so happy. So damned happy!"
Mikasa could do nothing for her best and last friend as he wailed, the beeping increasing in tempo as her heart accelerated in sympathy. Eventually, after a long minute of heaving sobs, the Last Titan quieted his rage and self-disgust.
"I don't want to go to hell," Armin Arlert said as if confessing the greatest of sins. The tears still flowed, but he looked at her now, begging Mikasa to understand. "I want to see Annie, and Jean, and Connie, and Historia, and Reiner, and Sasha, and Captain Levi, and Hange, and Gramps, and Mom and Dad. I want to see them all again. But I promised him, Mikasa."
Armin pleaded and begged Mikasa to understand the weakness and pain of a mortal man.
She did.
Mikasa Ackerman knew very well how much it hurt to kill your heart.
And she also knew Eren Yeager.
"He'd be happier if you broke your promise," Mikasa reassured Armin with the truth.
"But..." Armin gasped out a sob. "He must be lonely. So lonely. I can't leave him alone. I can't. We entrusted too much to him. Put too much on his shoulders. I should carry some of it. We are all to blame, not just him. He can't be the only one to pay. Not alone. I showed him that book. I did all those terrible things. I promised him. I promised."
"We all did," Mikasa's voice cracked. "All of us. The military. Humanity. Eldia. The scouts. You, me, everyone. We kept entrusting more and more to him. He carried all those bodies on his back. We were the ones who wanted to use the Rumbling as a threat. We were the ones who would use Historia and her children as sacrifices for our future. We are all to blame."
"But I was the one who promised him," Armin repeated, eyes swimming with tears. "We saw them in the end. We all did. Even with all the terrible things we did, they aren't in hell. Eren is alone there. He can't be alone. I can't let him be alone. I promised him Mikasa."
As she listened to Armin talk, listened to him pour out this last confession of an old man, Mikasa told her last friend the secret she had long kept.
"He won't be alone."
A secret she had planned to take to her grave.
Armin's tears slowed to a stop as he listened to her and the plan she had laid out so long ago.
"Ahhh," Armin let out a rasping sigh, at once of relief and of self-disgust. "I... I should have known."
"You would have... after," Mikasa said lowly. "It's in my will."
"I never deserved friends like you two," Armin said, his free hand reaching over to cup her cheek and rub along the scar that had never healed. "You've always been too good for me. Always going ahead. I'm always trying to catch up."
"You've always been the best of us," Mikasa said, a small, sad smile on her face. "You surpassed us long ago."
Armin seemed to shudder as he felt her arm falling softly to the bed again.
"I'll leave Eren to you, then," he gasped, eyes blurry from tears. "Be careful. He's a handful."
"I know," Mikasa said softly.
That was it. That was all she had.
Mikasa had been fighting for her entire life to not waste the gift she had been given. The cursed and blessed gift, paid for by so much death and destruction.
She had been strong for so long. Too long.
It was time to lay down her swords.
The beeping started to slow as Armin's hands tightened on weak fingers.
Mikasa had the strength to say a few quiet, final words before the nurses rushed in, and the flat noise of the machine drowned it out.
"Goodbye, Armin."
No history book would ever record the passing of Mikasa Ackerman. Her name had long faded from public consciousness. Only a handful of people attended her funeral.
Her family was unsurprised by her passing despite their sadness.
At her memorial, her son, Grisha, would tell all who attended that his mother was the strongest woman ever born and that he was glad she could finally rest.
Per her will, Mikasa was not buried in the cemetery dedicated to heroes with all her lost friends and her husband.
Instead, all that marked her final resting place was an old and battered grave marker that had been there for close to a century and a smaller piece of fresh and clean stone placed there as she was lowered into the ground.
Mikasa Ackerman's casket was filled with her favourite flowers, wrapped in the red scarf she had worn her entire life, and laid to rest under a towering tree.
A day after the funeral, an old man walked to the hill alone on weak legs.
He stared at the graves.
He stared at the tree.
He could hear the laughter of three children as they ran up the hill.
He could see a small boy lead the way, a broad smile on his face as he looked back as if challenging the other two to catch up.
He could see the steady run of the girl, only a step behind, as her red scarf flapped in the wind.
Well behind the first two, he saw a smaller, weaker boy struggle to catch up. His legs shook. His breath heaved. He tripped and stumbled.
But his smile was as big as the other two.
He could see it all, though he was alone with the tree on the hill.
Leaves were falling again.
"I am sorry I broke my promise," Armin told the graves. "I am sorry I can't join you. I am sorry I was always the last to reach the tree. I hope you two are together, wherever you are. Take care of each other."
The wind blew. The grass rustled. The leaves fell.
With movements slowed by age, Armin Artlet took the two leaves that had fallen on his hat.
The laughter of the children grew louder.
He placed the two leaves in front of the graves.
"Goodbye, Eren. Goodbye, Mikasa."
********
That evening, Armin Artlet was admitted to the hospital.
For weeks, all the world could speak of was the death of the Final Titan.
His passing was an international event as the world mourned the loss of a man who had done more for peace than anyone else.
Future history would mark his passing as the end of an era. The final tombstone of an age of titans and the long peace Armin had brought.
It would also be the beginning of a new dawn, one where the lessons of the past were forgotten as there was no one around to remember it.
Armin Arlert, the Final Titan, the Hero, the Traitor, the man who brought peace to the world, the great diplomat, and the Last Scout Commander, was buried beside his wife in the cemetery with almost all his friends.
He died in his sleep with a smile on his face.
Armin's last dream was of three young children running.
Of falling leaves and laughter.
Of smiles as he chased a boy and a girl to the tree on the hill.
Armin opened his eyes to his wife's welcoming arms and the greeting of long-dead comrades.
********
Mikasa woke without a sound in her little cabin in the woods, wiped the tears from her eyes, and got dressed.
As she did every morning, she checked the defence and repair enchantments on her scarf before wrapping it around herself. She had taken care of it for so long, but it had only returned to its once vibrant colour thanks to the aid of her friend and King.
Unlike usual, Mikasa did not start tending to her garden immediately or visit the towns in her territory. All the orphanages she visited knew not to expect her today.
Instead, Mikasa spread her wings to take to the air.
Sitri territory was far from the Underwold's version of Eldi- of Madagascar, even with her speed. Mikasa had to leave early to arrive in time to greet Sona as she returned home for the summer.
She could have teleported. As a Pawn of a Satan and a High-class devil in her own right, Mikasa had her own sigil to use as a teleportation circle.
While Mikasa lacked the magic to power it herself, like her weapon enchantments or those on her scarf, Sera had bugged Adjuka long enough to get him to make a portable battery she could use in day-to-day tasks.
That wasn't the reason she didn't teleport.
Mikasa never teleported if she could fly.
Flight reminded her of her youth.
Reminded her of ODM gear and the incredible rush it brought.
And if a bird happened to fly with her for a few hours?
Well, Mikasa could imagine she wasn't alone in the air.
Instead, Mikasa was flying side by side with a young boy, a broad smile on his face, as they flew hand in hand through the skies of this strange version of hell.
********
This is the last chapter of Part 2 and roughly the story's halfway point.
It also marks where I have run out of my pre-written chapters. From here on, it will be only one chapter a week on Sundays until Rapturous Rhapsody is finished; then, I will return to two chapters for this fic until it is done as well.
Until next time, I'll be waiting on the bench.
"Thank you," Armin said absentmindedly, not paying the nurse attention as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
The steady beeping of the machine and the woman's heavy breathing on the bed were the only sounds left in the room.
It wasn't enough to completely drown out the crowd's noise outside the building.
Armin couldn't go anywhere without some form of hubbub, and he had forgone discretion to arrive as soon as possible.
It used to worry her. Armin used to be such a shy boy, needing her and... Needing people to help him. He had grown to be so much more since then, but she never forgot who they used to be, and she never forgot her worry for her friend. Even in her state, Mikasa couldn't help but take a long look at the man she hadn't seen in a few months.
Armin looked... old.
Once blond hair now hung in wispy grey strands. His skin was sunken and pale, hanging too loosely on his bones. He barely stood with the help of a cane.
Not that she was any better.
Various instruments and tubes were attached to withered flesh, meant to keep her alive.
Not that Mikasa cared about living much longer.
Armin Artlet, her best and last friend, was dying.
Mikasa had known this would happen one day. She was just lucky that she was going first.
As if to make up for their once limited life span, the former titan shifters had retained some fraction of the enhanced vitality they once possessed. They had outlived almost everyone.
Yet, not even they could ignore the march of time.
Armin was the last. The last human to ever be a titan to still walk the earth.
The Last Titan.
It had been a long life. A full life.
Armin had seen the worst of humanity and rose against it. For all the terrible things he had seen and done in his youth, he had dedicated the rest of his life to bringing peace and happiness to the world so that others might not suffer as he did. He had fallen in love, built a family, and still found time to curb humanity's worst impulses.
Armin was a large part of the reason that the rebuilding of the world after the Rumbling had gone so well. That peace had lasted so long after the Battle of Heaven and Earth.
It had been a long and happy life.
So he sat quietly at her bedside, holding Mikasa's withered hand with what little strength he still possessed.
Even if an Ackerman lived long, she wasn't immune to time either. Her life had been much simpler by comparison. She had had enough of fighting with the world as a whole. It had been selfish of her, but Mikasa had left the future to those best qualified to build it.
She, too, had a long and happy life.
And here they were, the last of the 104th Trainee Corps. The last Scouts.
They were all that remained of a much crueller era.
"I'm sorry," Armin suddenly said.
"For what?" Mikasa asked weakly.
"For leaving you alone for so long."
"I wasn't alone," she said. "I had Grisha and Ymir. Erwin and Hange visit, too. You should be proud."
"I am. I saw them outside."
Armin's wizened face stretched into that boyhood smile at the mention of his children for the tiniest of seconds. Mikasa's heart swelled, but it was gone too fast. In its place was the world-weary look he had most days since Annie's death.
"But I am still sorry. I ran around for so long and haven't made time for you. And now this. I came as soon as I heard."
"Don't apologize," Mikasa chastised. "I couldn't do half of what you did."
Armin's laugh devolved into a coughing fit, but he waived her off when she was about to call a nurse.
"Cough. Don't, ack, bother," Armin said, barely getting his breathing under control. "Eren would punch me if a cough ended up killing me after everything."
Mikasa's heart throbbed in familiar pain at the name, but she didn't let it show as Armin settled back into his seat.
"You'll be fine," Armin said with what strength and hope he could muster. "We've gone through worse. You've gone through worse."
"I won't," Mikasa said, a note of finality in her voice. "This is it. I know it is. The end of my path. I am not sorry. I refuse to bury you, too."
"It won't be long for me either."
"Don't say that," Mikasa begged, eyes tearing up as she grasped his hand as tightly as she could. As if her measly strength could hold onto him.
"It's true," Armin sighed. "Ever since Annie... passed, I knew my time would come. I tried to hold out. I really did, but I can't anymore. I'm sorry."
Mikasa didn't say anything, just clutching his hand tightly and closing her eyes as if it would stop the tears.
It didn't.
The beep beep beep of the machine echoed through the room.
"I..." Armin paused, unsure of what to say.
"What," Mikasa croaked, voice feeble.
"I dreamed of him," Armin said, and Mikasa opened red-rimmed eyes to see him staring at the ceiling. "Eren."
He didn't need to clarify.
Even after all these years, there was only one 'him.'
Mikasa's breath hitched as the familiar pain echoed, reinforced by the sadness of impending loss.
"He was the same as I remember him," Armin said, his voice wistful. Nostalgic. Far away, as if he was seeing something she couldn't. "It's been so long, and he was so young. I was young. It was like we were talking in the Paths again."
Armin reached out as if cupping something in his hands he couldn't see.
Then his arm lost strength and fell to the bed.
"He came to say goodbye."
Armin's voice cracked, and tears beaded his eyes.
"Not 'see you later.' Goodbye."
"...Armin?" Mikasa asked as the tears flowed freely from the dying man.
"He told me-" Armin's voice cut out as he sobbed. "He said he was proud of me. That I had helped create a better world. That I had kept my promise to him. He told me I wasn't going to hell. He told me I'd done too much good. I can't go to hell. That it would be the last time we saw each other."
These were the tears of an old man. Tears of a good man who did terrible things for his people, country and friends. Who had helped kill his best friend.
The tears of an old man who had finally been forgiven yet could not forgive himself.
"And I was... relieved."
The old man was openly weeping now. In a way he hadn't done in years, the tears streamed from his eyes as he looked at her with pleading eyes.
"I was so damn relieved!" Armin said, self-disgust in his voice as he pounded the bed with feeble strength. "I promised him, Mikasa! I promised Eren! I promised I'd meet him in hell! That I would help shoulder the responsibility. And when I found out I wouldn't? That I'd see Annie again? I was so happy. So damned happy!"
Mikasa could do nothing for her best and last friend as he wailed, the beeping increasing in tempo as her heart accelerated in sympathy. Eventually, after a long minute of heaving sobs, the Last Titan quieted his rage and self-disgust.
"I don't want to go to hell," Armin Arlert said as if confessing the greatest of sins. The tears still flowed, but he looked at her now, begging Mikasa to understand. "I want to see Annie, and Jean, and Connie, and Historia, and Reiner, and Sasha, and Captain Levi, and Hange, and Gramps, and Mom and Dad. I want to see them all again. But I promised him, Mikasa."
Armin pleaded and begged Mikasa to understand the weakness and pain of a mortal man.
She did.
Mikasa Ackerman knew very well how much it hurt to kill your heart.
And she also knew Eren Yeager.
"He'd be happier if you broke your promise," Mikasa reassured Armin with the truth.
"But..." Armin gasped out a sob. "He must be lonely. So lonely. I can't leave him alone. I can't. We entrusted too much to him. Put too much on his shoulders. I should carry some of it. We are all to blame, not just him. He can't be the only one to pay. Not alone. I showed him that book. I did all those terrible things. I promised him. I promised."
"We all did," Mikasa's voice cracked. "All of us. The military. Humanity. Eldia. The scouts. You, me, everyone. We kept entrusting more and more to him. He carried all those bodies on his back. We were the ones who wanted to use the Rumbling as a threat. We were the ones who would use Historia and her children as sacrifices for our future. We are all to blame."
"But I was the one who promised him," Armin repeated, eyes swimming with tears. "We saw them in the end. We all did. Even with all the terrible things we did, they aren't in hell. Eren is alone there. He can't be alone. I can't let him be alone. I promised him Mikasa."
As she listened to Armin talk, listened to him pour out this last confession of an old man, Mikasa told her last friend the secret she had long kept.
"He won't be alone."
A secret she had planned to take to her grave.
Armin's tears slowed to a stop as he listened to her and the plan she had laid out so long ago.
"Ahhh," Armin let out a rasping sigh, at once of relief and of self-disgust. "I... I should have known."
"You would have... after," Mikasa said lowly. "It's in my will."
"I never deserved friends like you two," Armin said, his free hand reaching over to cup her cheek and rub along the scar that had never healed. "You've always been too good for me. Always going ahead. I'm always trying to catch up."
"You've always been the best of us," Mikasa said, a small, sad smile on her face. "You surpassed us long ago."
Armin seemed to shudder as he felt her arm falling softly to the bed again.
"I'll leave Eren to you, then," he gasped, eyes blurry from tears. "Be careful. He's a handful."
"I know," Mikasa said softly.
That was it. That was all she had.
Mikasa had been fighting for her entire life to not waste the gift she had been given. The cursed and blessed gift, paid for by so much death and destruction.
She had been strong for so long. Too long.
It was time to lay down her swords.
The beeping started to slow as Armin's hands tightened on weak fingers.
Mikasa had the strength to say a few quiet, final words before the nurses rushed in, and the flat noise of the machine drowned it out.
"Goodbye, Armin."
No history book would ever record the passing of Mikasa Ackerman. Her name had long faded from public consciousness. Only a handful of people attended her funeral.
Her family was unsurprised by her passing despite their sadness.
At her memorial, her son, Grisha, would tell all who attended that his mother was the strongest woman ever born and that he was glad she could finally rest.
Per her will, Mikasa was not buried in the cemetery dedicated to heroes with all her lost friends and her husband.
Instead, all that marked her final resting place was an old and battered grave marker that had been there for close to a century and a smaller piece of fresh and clean stone placed there as she was lowered into the ground.
Mikasa Ackerman's casket was filled with her favourite flowers, wrapped in the red scarf she had worn her entire life, and laid to rest under a towering tree.
A day after the funeral, an old man walked to the hill alone on weak legs.
He stared at the graves.
He stared at the tree.
He could hear the laughter of three children as they ran up the hill.
He could see a small boy lead the way, a broad smile on his face as he looked back as if challenging the other two to catch up.
He could see the steady run of the girl, only a step behind, as her red scarf flapped in the wind.
Well behind the first two, he saw a smaller, weaker boy struggle to catch up. His legs shook. His breath heaved. He tripped and stumbled.
But his smile was as big as the other two.
He could see it all, though he was alone with the tree on the hill.
Leaves were falling again.
"I am sorry I broke my promise," Armin told the graves. "I am sorry I can't join you. I am sorry I was always the last to reach the tree. I hope you two are together, wherever you are. Take care of each other."
The wind blew. The grass rustled. The leaves fell.
With movements slowed by age, Armin Artlet took the two leaves that had fallen on his hat.
The laughter of the children grew louder.
He placed the two leaves in front of the graves.
"Goodbye, Eren. Goodbye, Mikasa."
********
That evening, Armin Artlet was admitted to the hospital.
For weeks, all the world could speak of was the death of the Final Titan.
His passing was an international event as the world mourned the loss of a man who had done more for peace than anyone else.
Future history would mark his passing as the end of an era. The final tombstone of an age of titans and the long peace Armin had brought.
It would also be the beginning of a new dawn, one where the lessons of the past were forgotten as there was no one around to remember it.
Armin Arlert, the Final Titan, the Hero, the Traitor, the man who brought peace to the world, the great diplomat, and the Last Scout Commander, was buried beside his wife in the cemetery with almost all his friends.
He died in his sleep with a smile on his face.
Armin's last dream was of three young children running.
Of falling leaves and laughter.
Of smiles as he chased a boy and a girl to the tree on the hill.
Armin opened his eyes to his wife's welcoming arms and the greeting of long-dead comrades.
********
Mikasa woke without a sound in her little cabin in the woods, wiped the tears from her eyes, and got dressed.
As she did every morning, she checked the defence and repair enchantments on her scarf before wrapping it around herself. She had taken care of it for so long, but it had only returned to its once vibrant colour thanks to the aid of her friend and King.
Unlike usual, Mikasa did not start tending to her garden immediately or visit the towns in her territory. All the orphanages she visited knew not to expect her today.
Instead, Mikasa spread her wings to take to the air.
Sitri territory was far from the Underwold's version of Eldi- of Madagascar, even with her speed. Mikasa had to leave early to arrive in time to greet Sona as she returned home for the summer.
She could have teleported. As a Pawn of a Satan and a High-class devil in her own right, Mikasa had her own sigil to use as a teleportation circle.
While Mikasa lacked the magic to power it herself, like her weapon enchantments or those on her scarf, Sera had bugged Adjuka long enough to get him to make a portable battery she could use in day-to-day tasks.
That wasn't the reason she didn't teleport.
Mikasa never teleported if she could fly.
Flight reminded her of her youth.
Reminded her of ODM gear and the incredible rush it brought.
And if a bird happened to fly with her for a few hours?
Well, Mikasa could imagine she wasn't alone in the air.
Instead, Mikasa was flying side by side with a young boy, a broad smile on his face, as they flew hand in hand through the skies of this strange version of hell.
********
This is the last chapter of Part 2 and roughly the story's halfway point.
It also marks where I have run out of my pre-written chapters. From here on, it will be only one chapter a week on Sundays until Rapturous Rhapsody is finished; then, I will return to two chapters for this fic until it is done as well.
Until next time, I'll be waiting on the bench.
I won't lie. I can't imagine what path future Eren has seen for himself but I don't think him meeting Mikasa as a devil will be a happy event. Still, I am just as excited to see how it is planned to go down.
Picture
"Aunty, do you have a minute to talk?" Sona asked as she emerged from her teleportation circle.
Mikasa looked up in surprise at the sudden arrival of her honorary niece. Sona felt bad about showing up unannounced, but she wanted to talk to her sister's Pawn without her Peerage around.
Or her family.
"I do," Mikasa said slowly, standing up from tending to her vegetable garden. She brushed herself off before giving Sona a long look. "I will put on some tea."
Sona gave her aunt a soft, if slightly nervous, smile.
That show of emotion, more than anything, had Mikasa giving her another look before she entered her small cabin, Sona following along.
The young devil didn't know if what she was about to do was right.
Satan's, she had fought against almost this exact thing a few weeks ago. But now, with the approach of the Young Devils gathering, Sona felt herself evaluating herself, her future, and what she wanted.
So Sona had come to the only person she felt could provide her with the answers she needed.
As always, Sona was struck by the humbleness of her aunt's residence.
Mikasa's house was small, far from the opulence of her own family's estate or even that of most Sitri servants. Only one story tall and wide enough for a living room, a small bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom.
Despite technically owning more land than some countries, the only part of her property the Pawn used was a few acres of fenced-in yard with her garden.
Mikasa lived a quiet, secluded life far from combat or politics. She did not have an official position or list of duties like other members of the Satans' Peerage. The only time she ever left her land was if Serafall dragged her somewhere or to visit Sona.
It was a humble existence, one at odds with the incredible warrior Sona knew her aunt could be.
The only hint of the woman's combat abilities was the half-decorative sword over the fireplace. Flat and palm-wide with two triggers for the handle, Sona noted idly that it looked like Eren's cane blade, only wider and with a different handle.
But that was superficial at best.
The thinness of Eren's weapon was designed to be inconspicuous and fit in a cane, whereas this was how the sword on the mantle had always been, according to her aunt.
Mikasa had it created as a memento of her time fighting as a human. She never used it in actual combat. Odds were, as flimsy as it was, it wouldn't even pierce the skin of a Mid-class devil.
Mikasa used regular enchanted swords these days. She still used them disposably, and Sona knew that most of her aunt's money went to keeping the storage item her sister had given her Pawn full of blades with assorted effects.
A rich person's version of Blade Blacksmith.
It wasn't like Mikasa had anything else to spend her money on, and her fighting style had heavily contributed to Kiba's crush on her when he trained under her for a summer as a child.
Then Sona could distract herself no longer as her aunt approached with the tea.
"What is the matter," Mikasa asked somewhat bluntly as she set a cup of tea in front of Sona before sitting on the opposite seat in the small living room. "And why couldn't it wait a few hours?"
"I wished to speak with you away from my sister, my parents, and my Peerage," Sona admitted as she sipped the warm beverage.
It was an ordinary green tea without a sweetener, but Sona still appreciated it. It reminded her of the many days she'd come to her aunt's little corner of the Underworld to read in peace.
"First of all, thank you again for your help training my Peerage. We will need all the experience we can get to stand up to the likes of Sairaorg and Rias. Even Seekviara, Diadora, and Zephyrdor shall be a challenge to overcome, and I will need to put on a good showing. Your help is greatly appreciated in getting my team ready."
The older woman looked Sona in the eyes for a long second before nodding and giving her a small smile.
"I am happy to help." Then her smile faded, and Mikasa's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here, Sona?"
Sona took another sip of her tea, looking anywhere but at her aunt.
"I believe," the heiress hedged slowly. "That I may be developing an interest in a boy. Romantically, that is."
Sona's ears burned in embarrassment as she stared into her tea.
Nothing was said for a long moment, and eventually, the young devil had to look up as the silence got to her.
Mikasa was staring at her, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar. An almost imperceptible flush to her cheeks.
Catching Sona's eyes, Mikasa closed her mouth and cleared her throat, the flush spreading further along her cheeks.
"I see," the Pawn said, a slight creak in her voice. She took a sip of tea, looking out the window so as not to meet Sona's eyes again. "I suppose you are at that age. I understand why you would not wish your sister to know about... that. But why not approach your mother if you have questions? Why me?"
"He is human," Sona said plainly, and Mikasa gave a slight wince.
Sona loved her parents, she really did, but they were pureblood devils through and through. They would be able to accept her falling in love with a reincarnated devil, albeit reluctantly, if they grew to High-class status.
But a human?
Forget joining a convent, Sona's parents would force her to become a magical girl on her sister's show.
Much worse.
"Are you planning to reincarnate him?" Mikasa asked curiously, looking at the younger girl again.
"It... It is complicated," Sona hedged lightly, not wanting to get into the specifics of Eren.
At least for the moment.
Her initial reasoning for keeping him a secret from her sister and honorary aunt was still valid, after all. In a few years, she could explain everything.
Or never.
Sona liked 'never' better.
"For the moment, he will not be becoming a devil," Sona said, brushing over the subject. She wasn't even sure Eren knew about devils, let alone that she was one. "But that is one of the things I wanted to ask about. My parents would not understand me liking a human, but you were one. So I would like your advice."
"About what," Mikasa asked with a lightly furrowed brow.
"Um," Sona cleared her throat lightly, looking away.
Satans, this was awkward.
Not just because it was about romance but because of what she was about to ask and the effect it might have on the woman.
If there was something spending time with Eren had taught her, it was that trauma could crop up at the most unexpected times. Wounds could be opened by accident.
Only Sona wasn't planning on accidentally hurting her aunt. Her question would be the equivalent of stabbing a scar with a new blade.
Satans, how did Rias handle things like this?
As Sona gathered her courage, Mikasa remained silent, face in her usual neutral expression.
"Mortality," Sona eventually bit out, babbling at the awkwardness. "That is, humans are, I mean, they die and are fragile, and you never know, and we live for so long-"
"Stop," Mikasa interrupted the younger girl. "Take a deep breath. Then speak. This isn't like you."
Sona filled her lungs, held her breath, and let out the breath.
"Right," the Sitri heiress nodded, some of her usual composure returning. "My apologies. I just fear the topic is sensitive and will cause you distress."
"Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings," Mikasa said bluntly. "I can handle it."
"Very well," Sona nodded and asked the question she was here for with her chin held high to meet her aunt's eyes.
"If you were in love with someone who would die soon, would you tell them how you feel?"
"Yes."
The answer wasn't just immediate. It was instant.
Sona didn't even have time to finish her question before Mikasa had spoken. Nor did she have time to be surprised because her aunt, in a rare moment, started talking at length.
"I would not only tell them I loved them, I would show it. Every day, every minute they had left that we still had together, I would spend it all proving how much I loved him."
"What if you are rejected," Sona asked. "What if they don't feel the same?"
"So what," Mikasa stared into Sona's eyes for a long second before her gaze drifted out the window. "You are young. You do not understand how cruel love can be. Or how beautiful. Even if it hurts, those memories, those feelings... they are more precious than anything."
Normally, Sona would have bristled at those words, her pride being unable to tolerate being dismissed because she was 'young.'
The pain in Mikasa's eyes as they stared at a bird perched on her fence through the window quashed any hurt feelings Sona might have entertained.
"It is one of the greatest disconnects I've faced as a devil," the older woman admitted. "It is so easy to forget when you have power, when you live so long. Death comes quickly. The swipe of a blade. Human or devil, it doesn't matter. There are always regrets. Never enough time. So, make the most of what you have. Even if it hurts. Even if he doesn't feel the same way. Because the moments you miss will hurt more than any rejection ever will."
Sona adjusted her glasses as she thought over Mikasa's words.
They were hard to accept.
Not because she believed the Pawn was wrong, per se, but because the situation with Eren was just so unconventional.
If he had a regular human lifetime, it would make sense. Or if they had known each other for longer.
But Eren only had a year left, if that.
Even if everything went perfectly, they would only be 'together' briefly. With such limited time, was it not better to simply remain friends and enjoy the current relationship?
And that was assuming everything went perfectly.
There was every possibility Eren didn't feel the same way about her, or even if he did, he wouldn't want to engage in romance with his impending demise.
Would telling him about her devil status and the Evil Pieces be better or worse in that situation?
Would Eren think Sona was trying to take advantage of his situation and possibly their feelings to reincarnate him?
Would Eren give up his freedom for love if they did come to love each other?
Sona was objective enough with herself, even if inexperienced with matters of the heart, to know she liked Eren. She cared for him, and she could see pursuing a relationship with him. But was that love? Sona didn't think so.
Sona was not Rias. She could not easily give out her heart.
Both a strength and a weakness, Sona reflected.
"You don't believe me," Mikasa said, studying Sona intently as she sipped her tea.
"I do," Sona nodded, pulled from her thoughts. "It is..." Sona struggled to put the thoughts into words. "Unless something happens, I will live for thousands of years. He will not. I do not believe he would welcome becoming a devil, even if I offered it, so we are going to part no matter what. And I will have to find a husband eventually."
Sona was not Rias.
She would do her duty to her family. She had escaped her own arranged marriage but still intended to continue the Sitri house one day. It had been timing, more than anything, that had led to her rejecting the marriage. She didn't want to tie herself to another Pureblood devil until her dream was already underway.
"I suppose I do not want my memories to be tainted," Sona admitted, looking down into her tea. "Whatever happens now, I will live with it for the rest of my life. And, knowing that I will outlive him, it doesn't feel right. Even if he felt the same way, he could give me the rest of his life, his whole heart, but I cannot promise the same. Like I am just allocating a section of my heart, knowing I will have to give most of it to someone else. And that feels unfair. He doesn't deserve that."
"Do not do that!"
Sona jumped at the suddenness of the order.
Mikasa stared her adopted niece down and, for the first time today, Sona felt the force of the woman.
Sona was a High-Class devil. While the likes of Sairaorg and Rias might overpower her, she was still one of the greatest devils of her generation.
Mikasa was a Pawn with not a single drop of magic to her name. She had no Sacred Gear or unique heritage.
Yet one of them had killed a fully grown Red Dragon Emperor.
And it wasn't Sona.
"Do not base your happiness on others!" Mikasa ordered. "Love. Always love. But never let love be chains."
Always chase freedom. Never become a slave to it.
"Nobody deserves anything," Mikasa said lowly, hand idly shifting her scarf. "Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. That is life."
Sona bit her lip.
She knew her aunt spoke the truth. Knew that life was unfair. The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer.
Power begets power. Weakness begets weakness.
Education was the great equalizer.
The pen to defeat the sword.
It was one of the main reasons Sona dreamed of a school. One for everybody. Regardless of race, bloodline, or status.
To build a school where everyone got the same opportunities and where effort and dedication were rewarded regardless of the unfair advantages of the outside world.
Where the weak could grow to defeat the strong, and the strong could face their own weaknesses.
Such a school would be the ultimate paradise for a girl born into wealth and privilege yet eternally cast in a frozen shadow.
Sona still had a long way to go.
"The man I loved died when I was your age."
Sona blinked, torn from her thoughts.
She looked up, but Mikasa wasn't looking at her anymore. She was staring out the window again.
Her face was blank.
Not the regular neutral expression of the woman who rarely emoted that Sona knew, but the blankness of a broken doll.
Mikasa rarely ever talked about her past. She had heard it brought up maybe five times in all of Sona's life.
Her aunt wasn't shy about the fact she came from another world, but getting any specifics about it was like pulling teeth. Partly, that was due to how quiet Mikasa was as a woman and her isolated lifestyle, but a much larger part was due to how the Pawn withdrew whenever she talked about it.
All Sona knew was that Mikasa had been human, a soldier of some sort, married with a child, died of old age, and that her world had no magic. But every time a young, inquisitive Sona had tried to ask more, her aunt would close off.
Like the pain and regrets sealed her mouth.
Sona hated seeing her aunt like that. Like she carried a sadness with her that chained her to the ground. Sona usually avoided bringing up anything touching Mikasa's time as a human as much as possible. It was one of the reasons Sona had been so hesitant to talk to her today.
Yet the heiress would be lying if she said she wasn't interested in learning more about the woman who had been there for her entire life.
Torn between the desire to ask questions and the wish to spare the woman she loved the pain memories brought, Sona kept quiet.
Whatever Mikasa said, it would be by her own choice.
"We all knew he was on a time limit," Mikasa continued, watching the bird hop along the fence. "Yet I..."
The Pawn stopped.
The bird flew away.
"I never told him how I felt. Not till it was too late."
Sona had never heard Mikasa sound so small. So weak.
"Because he was going to die?"
"No."
The porcelain cracked, and Mikasa's blank face twisted. Warped into such a subtle yet profound example of grief and self-loathing that Sona had only seen the like once before.
On Eren, the day he told them about the woman he had loved and left behind.
"Because I was scared," Mikasa admitted. "I always wanted to, but the fear choked me. Even when he asked me what he meant to me, I could not say the words. I told myself we had time. Years. When I was older, when things were safer, I'd tell him. I'd be strong enough to tell him."
Mikasa's eyes met Sonas for the first time since her confession.
"There wasn't more time." Mikasa's voice cracked from the heartbreak. "We thought we had years. When he asked me what he meant to me, it was his last chance. He was out of time. I have never regretted anything more in my life than not being able to say 'I love you' that night."
Sona didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent.
Mikasa's tea cup was gently placed on the table as the Pawn walked around and sat beside Sona. She pulled the younger devil into a hug.
Sona let herself be held. Her aunt was always more conservative with physical affection, so these rare moments were always nice.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"That you are going through this," Mikasa said softly. Her own eyes were moist. "That I can't be more help. That you don't feel like you can talk to your sister or parents. I am sorry that your first love hurts. And I am sorry that I can't say it gets better. I learned to love my husband. Having Grisha and seeing him grow were some of my life's happiest moments. But the love and pain they never left me. Not a day didn't go by where I didn't wish for him back, for more time, or for things to be different."
An admittance of weakness from a woman Sona had always seen as a pillar of strength.
"Why can't things be simple," Sona asked in a small voice. Her own eyes were damp. "Why am I so weak? Why does he have to die?"
"Children shouldn't worry about life and death," Mikasa said softly, pretending not to feel the dampness on her clothes.
"We're devils," Sona shook her head as she pulled away. She surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "I learned how to drown a man when I was five. I killed my first Stray when I was ten. We grow up on stories of the Great War. Our racial hobby is a blood sport. Life and death are just a part of who we are."
"That doesn't make it right."
"Maybe," Sona said. "Fighting, killing, ruling. I am good at that. But it is love that I don't understand. That is complicated. What is the right thing to do? How do I make sure we are happy?"
"There is no perfect answer."
"Funny you should say that," Sona laughed lightly. Her voice hitched. "He said the same thing."
"Sounds like a smart boy," Mikasa smiled gently at her honorary niece. "But I am not surprised. Our Sona would only go for the smart ones."
Sona acknowledged the compliment for what it was but felt the need to correct her aunt, if only in her mind.
Eren wasn't really smart. He wasn't dumb by any means, but he wasn't the intellectual genius Sona had often imagined herself with when she was younger.
Eren was wise.
A wisdom born from experience rather than intelligence. Paid for with blood and pain.
Sona firmly believed in education. Her dream was to make it available to everyone. But she could admit that there had been a bias in her thoughts against those who were not educated.
Then, someone who had never finished elementary school had seen depths and implications in a light novel of all things. Something Sona had read herself yet had never given much thought.
That had been the moment.
When someone Sona had thought of as a 'student' taught her something. Eren ceased to be a 'test for future students' and had become an equal.
Maybe someone she could come to love.
"Can I ask you for another favour?" Sona asked.
Her aunt had helped clarify a few things in her mind. Sona, once she made a decision, was a girl of action.
"Anything."
"My newest member, Saji, is romantically interested in me," she explained.
This would be step one: wiping the board clean.
"I remember him. Your Pawn, right?
"I can't see him that way," Sona admitted. "I do not feel right engaging in such a relationship with my Peerage."
"Isn't that common for Kings?" Mikasa asked with a tilt of her head. Technically, the Pawn could start her own Peerage as she had her own Evil Pieces, but she had yet to see any point.
"For others," Sona nodded. "But I cannot be that way. I need to be a leader they can trust to make the best decisions for everyone. A relationship with one or more of them would, by necessity, mean I am partial to them over the others."
If the time ever came when Sona was forced to make a call to sacrifice the few for the many, or something equally as bad, she needed her Peerage to trust her to be fair and just. To not let her feelings blind her.
"You were always such a responsible girl," Mikasa said fondly. "What do you need me to do?"
"Talk to him," Sona said. "A few of my Peerage are interested in him, but his focus on me blinds him. I have already explained my position, but coming from someone else might help him understand."
"I am not good with... talking like that," Mikasa admitted, shuffling in the seat beside Sona. "Not with people I don't know."
"I know," Sona admitted.
Her aunt spent most of her time alone, and today had been one of the most prolonged conversations they had held together. Barring Serafall, whose conversations usually involved the Leviathan doing all the talking, Sona was not aware of anyone else who had spent a long time talking to the Pawn.
"I am sorry to ask it of you. But I recently saw how much an outside perspective can help in such matters."
Now, if only Issei and Asia would stop being so lovey-dovey in front of Sona, she'd appreciate it.
This would also give her aunt more time to socialize, even if Sona's Peerage was considerably younger than Mikasa.
Serafall and Sona had been struggling to get the Pawn more friends for years. Talking to Sona's Peerage could help her open up more.
If it worked with Eren, it could work with Mikasa, right?
Sona was taking a play out of Eren's book, manipulating others for them to find happiness when they wouldn't chase it themselves.
Sona was sick of seeing people holed up in the corner of a world waiting to die.
"Can you not go to someone else," Mikasa asked.
Sona just looked at her aunt with a raised brow.
If her liking a boy would bring trouble from her family (read: Sister), then someone liking Sona but her not returning the feelings would lead to a second Civil War.
Or an assassination of her newest Pawn by hypothermia.
"The only other person I would trust with such a conversation is... well, he is the one Saji is jealous of."
The idea of Eren giving Saji romantic advice, like he did with Issei, put a smile on Sona's face. She wouldn't do it, as it would just be mean-spirited, but the idea was amusing.
"Ah," Mikasa said lamely. "I see."
"So will you? Just a few minutes after training will be fine."
"I guess?"
"Thank you," Sona hugged her aunt tightly.
Mikasa sighed lightly before returning the hug.
Sona still needed to figure out if she would end up confessing to Eren but decided that it would depend on whether he accepted Rias' offer.
Mikasa's words did have an effect, though. They had solidified Sona's resolve.
Time was limited. Both Eren's and hers.
If she wanted to change the world, to force her dream into existence, she needed to move forward more confidently.
The Underworld could either keep up or be left behind.
********
And so begins part 3 of the story. As promised, I'll release on Sundays until I finish Rapturous Rhapsody.
I have had some questions/complaints/well-meaning threats about Mikasa's and Eren's eventual reunion. All I will say is I already have the rest of the story planned, and I want to explore both characters alone and together.
Also, this is a friendly reminder that this story is utterly epilogue-compliant with AOT. Yes, even the parts you don't like. I know the epilogue is one of the most controversial parts of AOT, as is the relationship between Mikasa and Eren. Still, my goal has always been for this story to be a continuation. Something I can read myself when I am done and go, 'Yep. This is cannon.'
If you've reached this chapter, you're halfway done. I hope you will stay with me until the end on the bench.
Mikasa looked up in surprise at the sudden arrival of her honorary niece. Sona felt bad about showing up unannounced, but she wanted to talk to her sister's Pawn without her Peerage around.
Or her family.
"I do," Mikasa said slowly, standing up from tending to her vegetable garden. She brushed herself off before giving Sona a long look. "I will put on some tea."
Sona gave her aunt a soft, if slightly nervous, smile.
That show of emotion, more than anything, had Mikasa giving her another look before she entered her small cabin, Sona following along.
The young devil didn't know if what she was about to do was right.
Satan's, she had fought against almost this exact thing a few weeks ago. But now, with the approach of the Young Devils gathering, Sona felt herself evaluating herself, her future, and what she wanted.
So Sona had come to the only person she felt could provide her with the answers she needed.
As always, Sona was struck by the humbleness of her aunt's residence.
Mikasa's house was small, far from the opulence of her own family's estate or even that of most Sitri servants. Only one story tall and wide enough for a living room, a small bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom.
Despite technically owning more land than some countries, the only part of her property the Pawn used was a few acres of fenced-in yard with her garden.
Mikasa lived a quiet, secluded life far from combat or politics. She did not have an official position or list of duties like other members of the Satans' Peerage. The only time she ever left her land was if Serafall dragged her somewhere or to visit Sona.
It was a humble existence, one at odds with the incredible warrior Sona knew her aunt could be.
The only hint of the woman's combat abilities was the half-decorative sword over the fireplace. Flat and palm-wide with two triggers for the handle, Sona noted idly that it looked like Eren's cane blade, only wider and with a different handle.
But that was superficial at best.
The thinness of Eren's weapon was designed to be inconspicuous and fit in a cane, whereas this was how the sword on the mantle had always been, according to her aunt.
Mikasa had it created as a memento of her time fighting as a human. She never used it in actual combat. Odds were, as flimsy as it was, it wouldn't even pierce the skin of a Mid-class devil.
Mikasa used regular enchanted swords these days. She still used them disposably, and Sona knew that most of her aunt's money went to keeping the storage item her sister had given her Pawn full of blades with assorted effects.
A rich person's version of Blade Blacksmith.
It wasn't like Mikasa had anything else to spend her money on, and her fighting style had heavily contributed to Kiba's crush on her when he trained under her for a summer as a child.
Then Sona could distract herself no longer as her aunt approached with the tea.
"What is the matter," Mikasa asked somewhat bluntly as she set a cup of tea in front of Sona before sitting on the opposite seat in the small living room. "And why couldn't it wait a few hours?"
"I wished to speak with you away from my sister, my parents, and my Peerage," Sona admitted as she sipped the warm beverage.
It was an ordinary green tea without a sweetener, but Sona still appreciated it. It reminded her of the many days she'd come to her aunt's little corner of the Underworld to read in peace.
"First of all, thank you again for your help training my Peerage. We will need all the experience we can get to stand up to the likes of Sairaorg and Rias. Even Seekviara, Diadora, and Zephyrdor shall be a challenge to overcome, and I will need to put on a good showing. Your help is greatly appreciated in getting my team ready."
The older woman looked Sona in the eyes for a long second before nodding and giving her a small smile.
"I am happy to help." Then her smile faded, and Mikasa's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here, Sona?"
Sona took another sip of her tea, looking anywhere but at her aunt.
"I believe," the heiress hedged slowly. "That I may be developing an interest in a boy. Romantically, that is."
Sona's ears burned in embarrassment as she stared into her tea.
Nothing was said for a long moment, and eventually, the young devil had to look up as the silence got to her.
Mikasa was staring at her, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar. An almost imperceptible flush to her cheeks.
Catching Sona's eyes, Mikasa closed her mouth and cleared her throat, the flush spreading further along her cheeks.
"I see," the Pawn said, a slight creak in her voice. She took a sip of tea, looking out the window so as not to meet Sona's eyes again. "I suppose you are at that age. I understand why you would not wish your sister to know about... that. But why not approach your mother if you have questions? Why me?"
"He is human," Sona said plainly, and Mikasa gave a slight wince.
Sona loved her parents, she really did, but they were pureblood devils through and through. They would be able to accept her falling in love with a reincarnated devil, albeit reluctantly, if they grew to High-class status.
But a human?
Forget joining a convent, Sona's parents would force her to become a magical girl on her sister's show.
Much worse.
"Are you planning to reincarnate him?" Mikasa asked curiously, looking at the younger girl again.
"It... It is complicated," Sona hedged lightly, not wanting to get into the specifics of Eren.
At least for the moment.
Her initial reasoning for keeping him a secret from her sister and honorary aunt was still valid, after all. In a few years, she could explain everything.
Or never.
Sona liked 'never' better.
"For the moment, he will not be becoming a devil," Sona said, brushing over the subject. She wasn't even sure Eren knew about devils, let alone that she was one. "But that is one of the things I wanted to ask about. My parents would not understand me liking a human, but you were one. So I would like your advice."
"About what," Mikasa asked with a lightly furrowed brow.
"Um," Sona cleared her throat lightly, looking away.
Satans, this was awkward.
Not just because it was about romance but because of what she was about to ask and the effect it might have on the woman.
If there was something spending time with Eren had taught her, it was that trauma could crop up at the most unexpected times. Wounds could be opened by accident.
Only Sona wasn't planning on accidentally hurting her aunt. Her question would be the equivalent of stabbing a scar with a new blade.
Satans, how did Rias handle things like this?
As Sona gathered her courage, Mikasa remained silent, face in her usual neutral expression.
"Mortality," Sona eventually bit out, babbling at the awkwardness. "That is, humans are, I mean, they die and are fragile, and you never know, and we live for so long-"
"Stop," Mikasa interrupted the younger girl. "Take a deep breath. Then speak. This isn't like you."
Sona filled her lungs, held her breath, and let out the breath.
"Right," the Sitri heiress nodded, some of her usual composure returning. "My apologies. I just fear the topic is sensitive and will cause you distress."
"Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings," Mikasa said bluntly. "I can handle it."
"Very well," Sona nodded and asked the question she was here for with her chin held high to meet her aunt's eyes.
"If you were in love with someone who would die soon, would you tell them how you feel?"
"Yes."
The answer wasn't just immediate. It was instant.
Sona didn't even have time to finish her question before Mikasa had spoken. Nor did she have time to be surprised because her aunt, in a rare moment, started talking at length.
"I would not only tell them I loved them, I would show it. Every day, every minute they had left that we still had together, I would spend it all proving how much I loved him."
"What if you are rejected," Sona asked. "What if they don't feel the same?"
"So what," Mikasa stared into Sona's eyes for a long second before her gaze drifted out the window. "You are young. You do not understand how cruel love can be. Or how beautiful. Even if it hurts, those memories, those feelings... they are more precious than anything."
Normally, Sona would have bristled at those words, her pride being unable to tolerate being dismissed because she was 'young.'
The pain in Mikasa's eyes as they stared at a bird perched on her fence through the window quashed any hurt feelings Sona might have entertained.
"It is one of the greatest disconnects I've faced as a devil," the older woman admitted. "It is so easy to forget when you have power, when you live so long. Death comes quickly. The swipe of a blade. Human or devil, it doesn't matter. There are always regrets. Never enough time. So, make the most of what you have. Even if it hurts. Even if he doesn't feel the same way. Because the moments you miss will hurt more than any rejection ever will."
Sona adjusted her glasses as she thought over Mikasa's words.
They were hard to accept.
Not because she believed the Pawn was wrong, per se, but because the situation with Eren was just so unconventional.
If he had a regular human lifetime, it would make sense. Or if they had known each other for longer.
But Eren only had a year left, if that.
Even if everything went perfectly, they would only be 'together' briefly. With such limited time, was it not better to simply remain friends and enjoy the current relationship?
And that was assuming everything went perfectly.
There was every possibility Eren didn't feel the same way about her, or even if he did, he wouldn't want to engage in romance with his impending demise.
Would telling him about her devil status and the Evil Pieces be better or worse in that situation?
Would Eren think Sona was trying to take advantage of his situation and possibly their feelings to reincarnate him?
Would Eren give up his freedom for love if they did come to love each other?
Sona was objective enough with herself, even if inexperienced with matters of the heart, to know she liked Eren. She cared for him, and she could see pursuing a relationship with him. But was that love? Sona didn't think so.
Sona was not Rias. She could not easily give out her heart.
Both a strength and a weakness, Sona reflected.
"You don't believe me," Mikasa said, studying Sona intently as she sipped her tea.
"I do," Sona nodded, pulled from her thoughts. "It is..." Sona struggled to put the thoughts into words. "Unless something happens, I will live for thousands of years. He will not. I do not believe he would welcome becoming a devil, even if I offered it, so we are going to part no matter what. And I will have to find a husband eventually."
Sona was not Rias.
She would do her duty to her family. She had escaped her own arranged marriage but still intended to continue the Sitri house one day. It had been timing, more than anything, that had led to her rejecting the marriage. She didn't want to tie herself to another Pureblood devil until her dream was already underway.
"I suppose I do not want my memories to be tainted," Sona admitted, looking down into her tea. "Whatever happens now, I will live with it for the rest of my life. And, knowing that I will outlive him, it doesn't feel right. Even if he felt the same way, he could give me the rest of his life, his whole heart, but I cannot promise the same. Like I am just allocating a section of my heart, knowing I will have to give most of it to someone else. And that feels unfair. He doesn't deserve that."
"Do not do that!"
Sona jumped at the suddenness of the order.
Mikasa stared her adopted niece down and, for the first time today, Sona felt the force of the woman.
Sona was a High-Class devil. While the likes of Sairaorg and Rias might overpower her, she was still one of the greatest devils of her generation.
Mikasa was a Pawn with not a single drop of magic to her name. She had no Sacred Gear or unique heritage.
Yet one of them had killed a fully grown Red Dragon Emperor.
And it wasn't Sona.
"Do not base your happiness on others!" Mikasa ordered. "Love. Always love. But never let love be chains."
Always chase freedom. Never become a slave to it.
"Nobody deserves anything," Mikasa said lowly, hand idly shifting her scarf. "Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. That is life."
Sona bit her lip.
She knew her aunt spoke the truth. Knew that life was unfair. The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer.
Power begets power. Weakness begets weakness.
Education was the great equalizer.
The pen to defeat the sword.
It was one of the main reasons Sona dreamed of a school. One for everybody. Regardless of race, bloodline, or status.
To build a school where everyone got the same opportunities and where effort and dedication were rewarded regardless of the unfair advantages of the outside world.
Where the weak could grow to defeat the strong, and the strong could face their own weaknesses.
Such a school would be the ultimate paradise for a girl born into wealth and privilege yet eternally cast in a frozen shadow.
Sona still had a long way to go.
"The man I loved died when I was your age."
Sona blinked, torn from her thoughts.
She looked up, but Mikasa wasn't looking at her anymore. She was staring out the window again.
Her face was blank.
Not the regular neutral expression of the woman who rarely emoted that Sona knew, but the blankness of a broken doll.
Mikasa rarely ever talked about her past. She had heard it brought up maybe five times in all of Sona's life.
Her aunt wasn't shy about the fact she came from another world, but getting any specifics about it was like pulling teeth. Partly, that was due to how quiet Mikasa was as a woman and her isolated lifestyle, but a much larger part was due to how the Pawn withdrew whenever she talked about it.
All Sona knew was that Mikasa had been human, a soldier of some sort, married with a child, died of old age, and that her world had no magic. But every time a young, inquisitive Sona had tried to ask more, her aunt would close off.
Like the pain and regrets sealed her mouth.
Sona hated seeing her aunt like that. Like she carried a sadness with her that chained her to the ground. Sona usually avoided bringing up anything touching Mikasa's time as a human as much as possible. It was one of the reasons Sona had been so hesitant to talk to her today.
Yet the heiress would be lying if she said she wasn't interested in learning more about the woman who had been there for her entire life.
Torn between the desire to ask questions and the wish to spare the woman she loved the pain memories brought, Sona kept quiet.
Whatever Mikasa said, it would be by her own choice.
"We all knew he was on a time limit," Mikasa continued, watching the bird hop along the fence. "Yet I..."
The Pawn stopped.
The bird flew away.
"I never told him how I felt. Not till it was too late."
Sona had never heard Mikasa sound so small. So weak.
"Because he was going to die?"
"No."
The porcelain cracked, and Mikasa's blank face twisted. Warped into such a subtle yet profound example of grief and self-loathing that Sona had only seen the like once before.
On Eren, the day he told them about the woman he had loved and left behind.
"Because I was scared," Mikasa admitted. "I always wanted to, but the fear choked me. Even when he asked me what he meant to me, I could not say the words. I told myself we had time. Years. When I was older, when things were safer, I'd tell him. I'd be strong enough to tell him."
Mikasa's eyes met Sonas for the first time since her confession.
"There wasn't more time." Mikasa's voice cracked from the heartbreak. "We thought we had years. When he asked me what he meant to me, it was his last chance. He was out of time. I have never regretted anything more in my life than not being able to say 'I love you' that night."
Sona didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent.
Mikasa's tea cup was gently placed on the table as the Pawn walked around and sat beside Sona. She pulled the younger devil into a hug.
Sona let herself be held. Her aunt was always more conservative with physical affection, so these rare moments were always nice.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"That you are going through this," Mikasa said softly. Her own eyes were moist. "That I can't be more help. That you don't feel like you can talk to your sister or parents. I am sorry that your first love hurts. And I am sorry that I can't say it gets better. I learned to love my husband. Having Grisha and seeing him grow were some of my life's happiest moments. But the love and pain they never left me. Not a day didn't go by where I didn't wish for him back, for more time, or for things to be different."
An admittance of weakness from a woman Sona had always seen as a pillar of strength.
"Why can't things be simple," Sona asked in a small voice. Her own eyes were damp. "Why am I so weak? Why does he have to die?"
"Children shouldn't worry about life and death," Mikasa said softly, pretending not to feel the dampness on her clothes.
"We're devils," Sona shook her head as she pulled away. She surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "I learned how to drown a man when I was five. I killed my first Stray when I was ten. We grow up on stories of the Great War. Our racial hobby is a blood sport. Life and death are just a part of who we are."
"That doesn't make it right."
"Maybe," Sona said. "Fighting, killing, ruling. I am good at that. But it is love that I don't understand. That is complicated. What is the right thing to do? How do I make sure we are happy?"
"There is no perfect answer."
"Funny you should say that," Sona laughed lightly. Her voice hitched. "He said the same thing."
"Sounds like a smart boy," Mikasa smiled gently at her honorary niece. "But I am not surprised. Our Sona would only go for the smart ones."
Sona acknowledged the compliment for what it was but felt the need to correct her aunt, if only in her mind.
Eren wasn't really smart. He wasn't dumb by any means, but he wasn't the intellectual genius Sona had often imagined herself with when she was younger.
Eren was wise.
A wisdom born from experience rather than intelligence. Paid for with blood and pain.
Sona firmly believed in education. Her dream was to make it available to everyone. But she could admit that there had been a bias in her thoughts against those who were not educated.
Then, someone who had never finished elementary school had seen depths and implications in a light novel of all things. Something Sona had read herself yet had never given much thought.
That had been the moment.
When someone Sona had thought of as a 'student' taught her something. Eren ceased to be a 'test for future students' and had become an equal.
Maybe someone she could come to love.
"Can I ask you for another favour?" Sona asked.
Her aunt had helped clarify a few things in her mind. Sona, once she made a decision, was a girl of action.
"Anything."
"My newest member, Saji, is romantically interested in me," she explained.
This would be step one: wiping the board clean.
"I remember him. Your Pawn, right?
"I can't see him that way," Sona admitted. "I do not feel right engaging in such a relationship with my Peerage."
"Isn't that common for Kings?" Mikasa asked with a tilt of her head. Technically, the Pawn could start her own Peerage as she had her own Evil Pieces, but she had yet to see any point.
"For others," Sona nodded. "But I cannot be that way. I need to be a leader they can trust to make the best decisions for everyone. A relationship with one or more of them would, by necessity, mean I am partial to them over the others."
If the time ever came when Sona was forced to make a call to sacrifice the few for the many, or something equally as bad, she needed her Peerage to trust her to be fair and just. To not let her feelings blind her.
"You were always such a responsible girl," Mikasa said fondly. "What do you need me to do?"
"Talk to him," Sona said. "A few of my Peerage are interested in him, but his focus on me blinds him. I have already explained my position, but coming from someone else might help him understand."
"I am not good with... talking like that," Mikasa admitted, shuffling in the seat beside Sona. "Not with people I don't know."
"I know," Sona admitted.
Her aunt spent most of her time alone, and today had been one of the most prolonged conversations they had held together. Barring Serafall, whose conversations usually involved the Leviathan doing all the talking, Sona was not aware of anyone else who had spent a long time talking to the Pawn.
"I am sorry to ask it of you. But I recently saw how much an outside perspective can help in such matters."
Now, if only Issei and Asia would stop being so lovey-dovey in front of Sona, she'd appreciate it.
This would also give her aunt more time to socialize, even if Sona's Peerage was considerably younger than Mikasa.
Serafall and Sona had been struggling to get the Pawn more friends for years. Talking to Sona's Peerage could help her open up more.
If it worked with Eren, it could work with Mikasa, right?
Sona was taking a play out of Eren's book, manipulating others for them to find happiness when they wouldn't chase it themselves.
Sona was sick of seeing people holed up in the corner of a world waiting to die.
"Can you not go to someone else," Mikasa asked.
Sona just looked at her aunt with a raised brow.
If her liking a boy would bring trouble from her family (read: Sister), then someone liking Sona but her not returning the feelings would lead to a second Civil War.
Or an assassination of her newest Pawn by hypothermia.
"The only other person I would trust with such a conversation is... well, he is the one Saji is jealous of."
The idea of Eren giving Saji romantic advice, like he did with Issei, put a smile on Sona's face. She wouldn't do it, as it would just be mean-spirited, but the idea was amusing.
"Ah," Mikasa said lamely. "I see."
"So will you? Just a few minutes after training will be fine."
"I guess?"
"Thank you," Sona hugged her aunt tightly.
Mikasa sighed lightly before returning the hug.
Sona still needed to figure out if she would end up confessing to Eren but decided that it would depend on whether he accepted Rias' offer.
Mikasa's words did have an effect, though. They had solidified Sona's resolve.
Time was limited. Both Eren's and hers.
If she wanted to change the world, to force her dream into existence, she needed to move forward more confidently.
The Underworld could either keep up or be left behind.
********
And so begins part 3 of the story. As promised, I'll release on Sundays until I finish Rapturous Rhapsody.
I have had some questions/complaints/well-meaning threats about Mikasa's and Eren's eventual reunion. All I will say is I already have the rest of the story planned, and I want to explore both characters alone and together.
Also, this is a friendly reminder that this story is utterly epilogue-compliant with AOT. Yes, even the parts you don't like. I know the epilogue is one of the most controversial parts of AOT, as is the relationship between Mikasa and Eren. Still, my goal has always been for this story to be a continuation. Something I can read myself when I am done and go, 'Yep. This is cannon.'
If you've reached this chapter, you're halfway done. I hope you will stay with me until the end on the bench.
Author friend, I love your story, really, very much, but I'm feeling the overwhelming need to pay someone to force you to release the chapter they are in (of course it's a joke about paying someone) I really like you storie and I will follow it until you publish it in full but god... I'm going to learn 3 languages just to insult you in the peace of my mind, until you put them together hahahaha
Summer Sun
Eren had changed.
"Spread out your senses lightly, like stretching after a long nyaap."
Eren grunted but kept his focus despite her joke.
Kuroka took her own advice, stretching lazily out on the bench as her tails flicked idly behind her.
This thing was incredibly uncomfortable, but if it finally got Eren to slow down and relax a bit, Kuroka would put up with it.
That, and the uncomfortableness of the bench was contrasted by Eren letting her lay her head on his thighs. Her favorite position when they trained together.
Gaining power, being lazy, and spending time with the future father of her kittens, all while napping in the sun? This was as close to heaven as a reincarnated devil like her could get.
Now, she just needed Shirone to cuddle with, and everything would be perfect.
"There are... two magical beings still in town, not including familiars. Only one devil."
"Three. There are two devils, but one is trying to hide."
Eren tried to reach out to find the one he had missed, but she felt his energy waver.
Kuroka's ears flickered as she felt Eren's Senjutsu destabilize.
"You are working with a lot less Ki than you used to have," Kuroka chided gently, one of her tails bopping Eren's cheek gently as he grit his teeth in frustration at his most recent failure. "No need to cover the whole city, nyaa."
"I had it." Eren denied and Kuroka rolled her eyes playfully.
Ok, Eren hadn't changed that much. He was just as headstrong as she remembered.
But he had changed.
Did he notice?
"Why are you trying so hard to learn sensing," Kuroka asked as she summoned a clone to grab her a drink from the minifridge under the bench. "You said it wasn't needed, nyaa? And you already have a good grasp of the basics."
"It isn't," Eren sighed, and she felt his Ki calm as he ceased practicing, pulling the layer of Ki back into himself.
The clone also adjusted the covering so that the full glare of the sun wasn't hitting her face.
Really, she had to thank these devil girls. They made this little park the perfect place to be lazy. All she had to do was keep up the illusions on those pesky familiars, and Kuroka had the perfect little setup.
When she wasn't crashing at Eren's place anyway.
But that was no fun without him. Kruoka could only play games for so long before she needed to find someone to mess with. Half in hiding as she was, Kuroka lacked the usual selection of targets, so she would have to settle for Eren.
He had to make up for disappearing for a year anyway.
"Then why," Kuroka asked again, rolling onto her back so she was facing up.
Eren's hair was getting long again.
Kuroka was of two minds about that.
On one paw, Eren had great hair, and she loved to bat at it. It also made him look more mature.
On the other, when he cut it short, it emphasized the angles of his handsome face.
For now, Kuroka settled for idly twirling a finger through the strands that fell a few inches from her face.
He let her.
Eren had really changed.
"I have nothing else to do," Eren answered easily. "The only reason I didn't learn it before was because there is nothing to sense in the Path. I couldn't practice it like Senjutsu or Touki, so it wasn't worth the time invested in the real world. Now, I have that time."
Anyone else might have bought that excuse. It was in Eren's usual austere voice.
Not Kuroka.
Knowing him as well as she did, actively monitoring his Ki as she was, Kuroka could tell Eren was hiding something.
Was it worth giving up her comfortable position?
In the end, Kuroka's curiosity got the better of her.
Like it always did.
Sitting up, the nekoshou used her usual tactics against the Titan.
"Nyahahaha," Kuroka giggled, leaning into his body suggestively.
He didn't flinch. Eren was long inured to her lack of shame. Not even the breasts she was so proud of could make him so much as twitch. It certainly didn't help that he was covering his eyes with bandages.
Still, he had his weaknesses.
"Hey," she purred sensually in his ear, her breath warming his skin. "Tell me? Please?"
Eren recoiled in surprise, almost falling off the bench in a sudden and violent flinch.
Kuroka stared, wide-eyed, at the unexpected reaction.
Eren had been immune to her teasing for as long as she had known him. Even when she got physically close, close enough to make him uncomfortable, Eren remained largely unfazed and acquiesced to her whims to get her to stop more than anything else.
She could feel it bothering him, but he never showed any reaction. Kuroka had never been able to surprise Eren once in their entire time together.
Such was the price of trying to seduce a clairvoyant.
That reaction...
Kuroka's tails swirled in agitation, her eyes locked on to Eren hungrily as he righted himself and scowled at her.
"Don't do that again."
Kuroka was definitely doing that again.
"I won't if you tell me why you are so set on learning to sense now?"
Eren's scowl deepened for a second before he turned to face away.
"I made a mistake," he eventually said, his voice small.
"A mistake, nyaa?"
"When I first arrived... I didn't recognize someone."
"Who?" Kuroka asked with a furrowed brow.
Sure, Eren couldn't see through the bandages he used to cover his marks, and while he was on the bench, he couldn't use his powers to make up the difference, but he was no fool. Anybody who could pull one over on Eren Yeager had to be an absolute genius.
"...Sona."
He said it so quietly that Kuroka almost didn't hear him, and it took her a moment to place the name.
"Leviathan's sister, nyaa?" Kuroka asked in disbelief. "The Sitri Heiress? How did she trick you?"
"I... didn't know she was a devil initially," Eren said, still facing away from her. "She was using a fake name. And I had only checked on Rias because of Kone-Shirone, so I didn't recognize who she was right away."
The tips of his ears were red, and there was the slightest flush to his cheeks.
Eren was... embarrassed?
"How... how long did it take you to realize?" Kuroka asked, biting her lip between her teeth.
"..."
"What was that?" Even with her enhanced senses, Kuroka hadn't understood the words due to the low volume of Eren's voice.
"... a year."
Kuroka couldn't help it anymore.
"Nyahahahahahaha," she howled with laughter, falling over and rolling around clutching her sides in mirth, not caring that she was dirtying her kimono. She laughed and laughed and laughed as Eren's face darkened further with embarrassment and rage.
"It's not my fault," Eren tried to defend himself. "She didn't act like the devils I've met. And when Rias said she was a friend, I thought she was a contracted magician. Sona's that type. Only when I started learning to sense to replace my eyes did I find out she was a devil, and I only found out her real name a few weeks ago."
His embarrassed ramblings just kept Kuroka laughing and laughing, and eventually, Eren simply decided to stay quiet and let the cat girl get her mirth under control.
It took a while.
"Nyahaha," Kuroka giggled as she rose back to her feet, casting a spell to clean herself up as she retook her seat beside Eren on the bench. "Is that why you are so focused on sensing magic types? To be able to tell devils apart?"
"You know I am terrible at learning anything. Without cheating with the Path, I only got a vague sense of energy before," Eren nodded, his embarrassment fading into his normal world-weary tone. "I can tell you are more powerful than the other devils, and you have demonic energy instead of Light or regular magic, but that's it."
"Why couldn't you just check through the Path?" Kuroka asked.
Eren paused at the question, hesitating to answer.
Kuroka was the only being on earth whom Eren had confided with the true scope of his abilities.
Yes, he had absolute knowledge of the actual future in which he'd live, but he could also explore other possibilities. See the Paths he didn't take. He had sometimes used it to gain information that he shouldn't have by peering into timelines that never happened.
There was no reason he couldn't have just looked at a timeline where he asked the Sitri Heiress what she was or seen in the future where he would come to learn about her true identity.
It was one of the reasons Eren was so hard to trick. He was sharp, of course, but he could also know what future versions of himself would come to learn.
"I don't just lose my future sight while sitting on the bench," Eren eventually answered. "The part of my abilities that allows me to experience my whole life at once and see possibilities is hampered by this bench. I can't see it or anyone who I meet for the first time on it. They are... protected, I guess. I can't see them at all in my future. They are completely immune."
"I'm invisible, nyaa?"
"No. Just those I met for the first time while I was on the bench. It somehow inhibits my powers, which is transferred to those who sit with me. There is only one exception so far: he didn't sit on the bench when we first met. And even then, everything around the bench becomes fuzzier and fuzzier the closer it is in time and place to the bench. It's... disrupting me and nullifying me completely while I touch it. Like a... curse or something. I don't know the specifics."
Kuroka smiled. It was reassuring to see that despite the year apart, she was still the one he trusted the most. He answered almost every question she had without reservation.
The only exceptions were details about his past before his rebirth.
Kuroka didn't blame him.
Eren's condition meant that if he ever talked about his past, he would be experiencing those feelings all the time because he would be constantly reliving that memory in the past, present, and future.
Still, this gave her an idea. A hope.
"They can change your future?" Kuroka tried to be sly about the question, trying not to alert Eren to her intentions.
She should have known better.
"No. They can't," Eren denied instantly.
"But you can't see them."
"Just because they are invisible doesn't mean they aren't there. Even with this bench, my future and my memories have not changed. And they aren't the only ones that I don't see. Billions of people all contribute to the future in a billion ways. I cannot see all of that, even with the Path. I change one thing, and a million things change in other timelines. Even with infinite time, I am still just one man. I cannot see every future. I can say one thing for certain, though."
Eren sighed, his voice deadening further and further as he spoke until the exhaustion at the idea seemed to overwhelm him.
Then, in the same tone he had on the first day they had met, empty of all hope, joy, and will, Eren repeated his words to her.
"I will never have children."
Drat.
Still, Kuroka had learned more about the ability and discovered another avenue of weakness.
Before today, the biggest one had been the fact that Eren couldn't read minds. He could see actions, events, and consequences, but he had to be the one to piece together motivations if nobody told him. Cheating by looking into the possibilities didn't help if no version of Eren he looked for ever learned it.
And he had to actively look for it. He had infinite time to do so with the Path, but if he never had the idea or decided to look, he'd never learn something.
Therin lay her most significant advantage.
Kuroka would never, ever tell Eren she planned to go against him.
Not under torture. Not under threat.
She had long ago vowed that in no timeline would she ever betray Eren Yeager until she had the perfect plan, one hidden from his ability.
It was the only way for her goal, the future she wished for, to come true.
And she was close. So close.
Eren had changed.
More than Kuroka had ever dreamed of, Eren had changed.
Eren was embarrassed. He was angry. He was talking to people and making jokes.
Eren might not laugh or smile, but he was connecting to people. Even she, who had been with him the longest, and Vali, whom Eren had taken under his wing, had never been able to provoke half the emotions Kuroka had seen from the boy over the last few days.
For as long as she had known Eren, he had been... empty.
Driven to action, but not to will. A machine going through the motions, performing tasks without knowing why it did so.
Occasionally, very occasionally, his real emotions would peak through, usually in bursts of rage and violence, but they were always the exception that proved the rule.
Only now, on this bench, could Eren truly live.
"You never know, nyaa," Kuroka said playfully, cuddling back into Eren's side. Just because she couldn't access the Path to train didn't mean she wouldn't still curl up in her usual spot.
"I do," Eren denied, his voice unbending steel. "The Path is a bloodline. A connection between past, present and future to everyone who shares my genetics. If there was any Eldian in this world, now, in the past, or in the future, I would know about it. I'd be able to see what they see. I'd live every second of their life just as I do my own. But there is no one connected to me. No one before or after. The Path of this world was born and will die with me."
As if Kuroka would let that happen.
Eren Yeager did not get to die. Not until he had lived a long, happy life.
With her, specifically.
And Shirone.
And a few dozen kittens, interspersed over their millennia of life.
It would take a lot of practice, but Kuroka didn't mind. Devil fertility rates were notoriously terrible.
Right now, it was just a waiting game. After Eren fulfilled that promise he had made all those years ago, after everything he predicted came true, Kuroka could put her own plan into motion.
For now, she'd enjoy spending a cozy summer with the man she loved.
The other devils would be back at the end of summer, and she'd have to be more subtle then, lest their scary siblings find out where she was and go cat hunting.
Really, they were such Sis-cons that even the higher-ups in Khaos Brigade knew it. It was why Kokabiel had targeted them in the first place.
Kuroka shook her head. Her thoughts had been idling for long enough that she almost fell into another nap.
Curse Eren and his comfortable lap.
Kuroka had Eren Yeager all to herself right now, and he was more open than ever before. If she didn't take advantage, she'd forever regret it.
Kuroka could be lazy and procrastinate later.
"Tell me about yourself, nyaa," the Black Cat said lazily. Ok, she could procrastinate later.
"...What do you mean?"
"Anything, nyaaaaaah," Kuroka yawned. "About your past? Your world? Your friends? I just want to know."
"I..." Eren paused. "I don't know. What should I say? Looking back, there is so much and so little. It's all... tainted. By pain. By what happened later."
"Tell me about good times," Kuroka said softly. "When you were happy."
"When I was happy?" Eren asked as if wondering when such a time was.
"What were you like as a kid?" Kuroka prompted. Then, just for emphasis, she took his empty hand and placed it on her head. It was just to provide Eren with some physical comfort and not because it felt good. Really. "You must have some good memories."
Slowly, hesitantly, Eren started to move his hand.
"I do," he admitted.
"So tell me about them."
"I... suppose." Eren was quiet for a long moment as if deciding what to talk about. "I was a terrible child."
"Hmm?"
"I was," Eren nodded. "Always getting into fights. Being lazy whenever I could get away with it. And I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I still don't."
Kuroka wouldn't say that. Before Eren had left, getting information from him that wasn't instructions was like pulling teeth.
"My mom was always scolding me, patching me up, or apologizing on my behalf. My dad... He never got mad." Eren paused again. "Looking back, I realize he was trying to let me be myself. To not impose his way of life on me. To make up for his mistake with his first kid. He didn't want anything special from me. He just wanted me to be happy."
"The brother you told Shironyaa about?"
"Yes. My dad was... terrible to him. I love my dad, but he made mistakes." Eren shook his head. "Not as much as me, though. He was a better man. He let go of his hatred. Even when my mom... even then. He would have let them go."
There was another pause. Eren stopped petting her ears, so Kuroka shifted them back to happier topics.
"What about Armin?"
"Armin?" Eren blinked, coming back to the present. "Oh, right. I told you about him."
"Did you not want to?"
"No," Eren shook his head. "It's just I think that was the first time I ever said his name. Hearing it from you was unexpected."
"Why?" Kuroka wasn't surprised that he hadn't said Armin's name in his life. If he wouldn't tell her, who would he tell?
"Talking about him and... Talking about any of my past is hard, but those two... They're different. Even when the whole world was against me, when I declared war on the whole world and got one of our friends killed, they still would have sided with me. Not because I was the choice that saved them or gave them power, but just because it was me. They would have turned against the whole world for me. I had to do some... I had to give them motivation to not join me."
As always, hearing Eren mention, if even obliquely, to the woman he had loved sent a pang of jealousy down Kuroka's back, and her tails waved in her agitation.
Best to lead him back to happier thoughts again.
"How'd you meet Armin, nyaa?"
"He was being bullied," Eren shrugged. "I must have seen him get beat up a half dozen times. But no matter what they did to him, he never fought back. Not once. I wanted to know why. Was he just a coward?"
Eren's voice took on a quality, a note of nostalgia? Whistfullness? Fondness?
"He wasn't. Armin was the bravest, best of us all. The entire time they were hitting him, he was fighting a different war. One to be better. If he threw a punch, he'd lose that war. I admired that about him, but I wasn't him. If Armin wouldn't fight back, I would."
"That's how you'd get into fights?" Kuroka grinned, imagining a chibi Eren standing up for an imaginary child. "You were defending your friend? How cute."
"I lost," Eren shook his head wryly. "I'd see them ganging up on him because he wouldn't fight back, charge in without thought, and get beat for my trouble. If it wasn't for... Anyway, it was always the three of us. Before, and after... That Day."
Eren took on a more pensive, whistful tone.
"I don't think I would have made it through those two years after... after my parents, if not for those two. I know for sure I wouldn't have made it through training, or even my first mission, without them. That's how it would usually go. I'd mess things up, and they'd fix it. I was a terrible child. An awful friend."
Kuroka idly wondered how much the 'Child of Evil' moniker Eren had gained had affected him.
Then she shook off the thought and, once more, steered Eren away from his blue mood.
Eren wasn't making this easy, but Satans damn it, she was going to make him happy.
"Tell me about your training," Kuroka prompted. "What was it like?"
"Hard," Eren said instantly. "Increadibly difficult. A third dropped out in the first week. Another third never finished. They either dropped out, were kicked out, were too injured to continue, or died." Despite his words, there was pride in his spirit. "But... they were good times. The world was simple. You train. You get better. Every drop of sweat or blood you shed in training was so you had that tiniest chance do not die later."
Eren shook his head as if in disbelief at his younger self.
"We were so young. So dumb. We had no idea what the world was truly like. But the 104th... they were comrades. Friends. A replacement for the families we had lost. After three years together, our bonds were strong. Unbreakable. Or I thought so, at least."
Having learned her lesson from last time, Kuroka didn't give Eren time to descend into melancholy.
"This was your military symbol, right?" She asked, tapping his cane.
"One of them," Eren nodded. "There were three divisions, each with roles and their own symbol. The top ten in training got to choose which of the three to join, but everyone else was assigned their position. People trained harder to get to choose a cushier position."
"Were you in the top ten?"
"Number five," Eren nodded. Kuroka had trouble imagining four people better than Eren at anything physical but understood he hadn't always had his current abilities. "The position didn't really matter for me, though. I had always planned on joining the Survey Corps. They had the highest mortality rate and were the most desperate for volunteers, so anyone could choose them. Even if I didn't reach the top ten, I still would have joined them. I didn't train hard for the position. I just wanted to get better. To be able to kill more, to be free. And the Survey Corps represented that to me."
Eren ran his fingers across the hilt of his cane, feeling the carved wood.
"This symbol means to always to always go forward. To fight rather than die in a cage. To fight for hope, for a better future. For humanity. For a world where we didn't have to live in fear. If I was going to dedicate my heart to anything, it would be to the Wings of Freedom." Eren's fingers trailed across the two wings set into the handle. "Thank you for this."
"I didn't manage to surprise you, nyaa," Kuroka pretended to pout. "You found out immediately when I started making it. You are the one who told me how to carve the handle. You cheated."
"You decided to make it, not me. Just because I see the future doesn't mean your choices are any less yours," Eren shook his head. "Everyone makes that mistake. Even if I could control people, I wouldn't. Just because I've lived the future doesn't mean people don't affect it. They do. They are still free. They are still making the choices. I just see the result."
"You're cheating," Kuroka summarized plainly.
"If you want to think that way," Eren allowed. Then he paused, hand resting in petting her. "That first day, when we met, I already knew you'd give me this cane one day. That doesn't mean your feelings or choices mean any less to me. So, thank you, Kuroka. It is the best gift I've received in a very, very long time."
Kuroka felt her face flush at the softness in Eren's voice. She had never heard him speak like that before.
Kuroka knew, at that moment, that Eren wasn't just speaking of the cane but of all their time together.
It was as close to a confession as she had ever heard from Eren.
"You're welcome," Kuroka's voice was just as soft as she nuzzled deeper into his lap.
Eren had changed.
Kuroka hoped he could continue to change.
The two spent the rest of the day together in quiet companionship. In the end, Kuroka succeeded in making the day a good one, even if Eren didn't make it easy.
At some point, the two lazy lovers slipped into a doze and passed the day napping away on the bench.
********
Before anything else, I want to touch on one of the most common complaints I saw after the last chapter. The fact that neither Mikasa nor Sona brought up Eren's name potentially revealed to the others they were speaking about the same person. I've already explained Sona's rationale in the story, one that fits her character to a T, so I won't go over that again. As for Mikasa, let me ask any of my readers this:
Does anyone who has watched/read Attack on Titan expect Mikasa Ackerman to volunteer information more than the bare minimum to get her point across? I already thought I was making her more chatty than she should be in the last chapter, and only because she is a fully grown woman trying to teach someone she sees as an almost daughter.
Make no mistake: Mikasa reuniting with Eren is a foregone conclusion, and nobody is more excited than I am for when that happens. But it will happen naturally. Not artificially lengthed or shortened, but when I feel it comes up organically.
That's my piece on the subject. Everything else you will need to learn through reading the story.
As for this chapter, one of the most misunderstood parts of AOT, at least in my opinion, is the idea that all the suffering and hardship is meaningless because Eren could have just mind-wammied everyone. It would fundamentally go against his character if he did that, as committed as he is to freedom. Not only could he touch the memories of the People of Ymir, but The only memories he actively manipulated were his own; the only other exception was the messages he left for others after he died.
Everything else was him using the Attack Titan's power or only targeting Pure Titans. Not once did he use the Founder to control anyone, even when it could have saved the lives of people he cared about, such as Sasha. If he did so, it would go against everything that made 'Eren Yeager' who he was, good or bad.
Once again, another week has passed. Another chapter released, another step forward. I will meet you all, next week, on the bench.
"Spread out your senses lightly, like stretching after a long nyaap."
Eren grunted but kept his focus despite her joke.
Kuroka took her own advice, stretching lazily out on the bench as her tails flicked idly behind her.
This thing was incredibly uncomfortable, but if it finally got Eren to slow down and relax a bit, Kuroka would put up with it.
That, and the uncomfortableness of the bench was contrasted by Eren letting her lay her head on his thighs. Her favorite position when they trained together.
Gaining power, being lazy, and spending time with the future father of her kittens, all while napping in the sun? This was as close to heaven as a reincarnated devil like her could get.
Now, she just needed Shirone to cuddle with, and everything would be perfect.
"There are... two magical beings still in town, not including familiars. Only one devil."
"Three. There are two devils, but one is trying to hide."
Eren tried to reach out to find the one he had missed, but she felt his energy waver.
Kuroka's ears flickered as she felt Eren's Senjutsu destabilize.
"You are working with a lot less Ki than you used to have," Kuroka chided gently, one of her tails bopping Eren's cheek gently as he grit his teeth in frustration at his most recent failure. "No need to cover the whole city, nyaa."
"I had it." Eren denied and Kuroka rolled her eyes playfully.
Ok, Eren hadn't changed that much. He was just as headstrong as she remembered.
But he had changed.
Did he notice?
"Why are you trying so hard to learn sensing," Kuroka asked as she summoned a clone to grab her a drink from the minifridge under the bench. "You said it wasn't needed, nyaa? And you already have a good grasp of the basics."
"It isn't," Eren sighed, and she felt his Ki calm as he ceased practicing, pulling the layer of Ki back into himself.
The clone also adjusted the covering so that the full glare of the sun wasn't hitting her face.
Really, she had to thank these devil girls. They made this little park the perfect place to be lazy. All she had to do was keep up the illusions on those pesky familiars, and Kuroka had the perfect little setup.
When she wasn't crashing at Eren's place anyway.
But that was no fun without him. Kruoka could only play games for so long before she needed to find someone to mess with. Half in hiding as she was, Kuroka lacked the usual selection of targets, so she would have to settle for Eren.
He had to make up for disappearing for a year anyway.
"Then why," Kuroka asked again, rolling onto her back so she was facing up.
Eren's hair was getting long again.
Kuroka was of two minds about that.
On one paw, Eren had great hair, and she loved to bat at it. It also made him look more mature.
On the other, when he cut it short, it emphasized the angles of his handsome face.
For now, Kuroka settled for idly twirling a finger through the strands that fell a few inches from her face.
He let her.
Eren had really changed.
"I have nothing else to do," Eren answered easily. "The only reason I didn't learn it before was because there is nothing to sense in the Path. I couldn't practice it like Senjutsu or Touki, so it wasn't worth the time invested in the real world. Now, I have that time."
Anyone else might have bought that excuse. It was in Eren's usual austere voice.
Not Kuroka.
Knowing him as well as she did, actively monitoring his Ki as she was, Kuroka could tell Eren was hiding something.
Was it worth giving up her comfortable position?
In the end, Kuroka's curiosity got the better of her.
Like it always did.
Sitting up, the nekoshou used her usual tactics against the Titan.
"Nyahahaha," Kuroka giggled, leaning into his body suggestively.
He didn't flinch. Eren was long inured to her lack of shame. Not even the breasts she was so proud of could make him so much as twitch. It certainly didn't help that he was covering his eyes with bandages.
Still, he had his weaknesses.
"Hey," she purred sensually in his ear, her breath warming his skin. "Tell me? Please?"
Eren recoiled in surprise, almost falling off the bench in a sudden and violent flinch.
Kuroka stared, wide-eyed, at the unexpected reaction.
Eren had been immune to her teasing for as long as she had known him. Even when she got physically close, close enough to make him uncomfortable, Eren remained largely unfazed and acquiesced to her whims to get her to stop more than anything else.
She could feel it bothering him, but he never showed any reaction. Kuroka had never been able to surprise Eren once in their entire time together.
Such was the price of trying to seduce a clairvoyant.
That reaction...
Kuroka's tails swirled in agitation, her eyes locked on to Eren hungrily as he righted himself and scowled at her.
"Don't do that again."
Kuroka was definitely doing that again.
"I won't if you tell me why you are so set on learning to sense now?"
Eren's scowl deepened for a second before he turned to face away.
"I made a mistake," he eventually said, his voice small.
"A mistake, nyaa?"
"When I first arrived... I didn't recognize someone."
"Who?" Kuroka asked with a furrowed brow.
Sure, Eren couldn't see through the bandages he used to cover his marks, and while he was on the bench, he couldn't use his powers to make up the difference, but he was no fool. Anybody who could pull one over on Eren Yeager had to be an absolute genius.
"...Sona."
He said it so quietly that Kuroka almost didn't hear him, and it took her a moment to place the name.
"Leviathan's sister, nyaa?" Kuroka asked in disbelief. "The Sitri Heiress? How did she trick you?"
"I... didn't know she was a devil initially," Eren said, still facing away from her. "She was using a fake name. And I had only checked on Rias because of Kone-Shirone, so I didn't recognize who she was right away."
The tips of his ears were red, and there was the slightest flush to his cheeks.
Eren was... embarrassed?
"How... how long did it take you to realize?" Kuroka asked, biting her lip between her teeth.
"..."
"What was that?" Even with her enhanced senses, Kuroka hadn't understood the words due to the low volume of Eren's voice.
"... a year."
Kuroka couldn't help it anymore.
"Nyahahahahahaha," she howled with laughter, falling over and rolling around clutching her sides in mirth, not caring that she was dirtying her kimono. She laughed and laughed and laughed as Eren's face darkened further with embarrassment and rage.
"It's not my fault," Eren tried to defend himself. "She didn't act like the devils I've met. And when Rias said she was a friend, I thought she was a contracted magician. Sona's that type. Only when I started learning to sense to replace my eyes did I find out she was a devil, and I only found out her real name a few weeks ago."
His embarrassed ramblings just kept Kuroka laughing and laughing, and eventually, Eren simply decided to stay quiet and let the cat girl get her mirth under control.
It took a while.
"Nyahaha," Kuroka giggled as she rose back to her feet, casting a spell to clean herself up as she retook her seat beside Eren on the bench. "Is that why you are so focused on sensing magic types? To be able to tell devils apart?"
"You know I am terrible at learning anything. Without cheating with the Path, I only got a vague sense of energy before," Eren nodded, his embarrassment fading into his normal world-weary tone. "I can tell you are more powerful than the other devils, and you have demonic energy instead of Light or regular magic, but that's it."
"Why couldn't you just check through the Path?" Kuroka asked.
Eren paused at the question, hesitating to answer.
Kuroka was the only being on earth whom Eren had confided with the true scope of his abilities.
Yes, he had absolute knowledge of the actual future in which he'd live, but he could also explore other possibilities. See the Paths he didn't take. He had sometimes used it to gain information that he shouldn't have by peering into timelines that never happened.
There was no reason he couldn't have just looked at a timeline where he asked the Sitri Heiress what she was or seen in the future where he would come to learn about her true identity.
It was one of the reasons Eren was so hard to trick. He was sharp, of course, but he could also know what future versions of himself would come to learn.
"I don't just lose my future sight while sitting on the bench," Eren eventually answered. "The part of my abilities that allows me to experience my whole life at once and see possibilities is hampered by this bench. I can't see it or anyone who I meet for the first time on it. They are... protected, I guess. I can't see them at all in my future. They are completely immune."
"I'm invisible, nyaa?"
"No. Just those I met for the first time while I was on the bench. It somehow inhibits my powers, which is transferred to those who sit with me. There is only one exception so far: he didn't sit on the bench when we first met. And even then, everything around the bench becomes fuzzier and fuzzier the closer it is in time and place to the bench. It's... disrupting me and nullifying me completely while I touch it. Like a... curse or something. I don't know the specifics."
Kuroka smiled. It was reassuring to see that despite the year apart, she was still the one he trusted the most. He answered almost every question she had without reservation.
The only exceptions were details about his past before his rebirth.
Kuroka didn't blame him.
Eren's condition meant that if he ever talked about his past, he would be experiencing those feelings all the time because he would be constantly reliving that memory in the past, present, and future.
Still, this gave her an idea. A hope.
"They can change your future?" Kuroka tried to be sly about the question, trying not to alert Eren to her intentions.
She should have known better.
"No. They can't," Eren denied instantly.
"But you can't see them."
"Just because they are invisible doesn't mean they aren't there. Even with this bench, my future and my memories have not changed. And they aren't the only ones that I don't see. Billions of people all contribute to the future in a billion ways. I cannot see all of that, even with the Path. I change one thing, and a million things change in other timelines. Even with infinite time, I am still just one man. I cannot see every future. I can say one thing for certain, though."
Eren sighed, his voice deadening further and further as he spoke until the exhaustion at the idea seemed to overwhelm him.
Then, in the same tone he had on the first day they had met, empty of all hope, joy, and will, Eren repeated his words to her.
"I will never have children."
Drat.
Still, Kuroka had learned more about the ability and discovered another avenue of weakness.
Before today, the biggest one had been the fact that Eren couldn't read minds. He could see actions, events, and consequences, but he had to be the one to piece together motivations if nobody told him. Cheating by looking into the possibilities didn't help if no version of Eren he looked for ever learned it.
And he had to actively look for it. He had infinite time to do so with the Path, but if he never had the idea or decided to look, he'd never learn something.
Therin lay her most significant advantage.
Kuroka would never, ever tell Eren she planned to go against him.
Not under torture. Not under threat.
She had long ago vowed that in no timeline would she ever betray Eren Yeager until she had the perfect plan, one hidden from his ability.
It was the only way for her goal, the future she wished for, to come true.
And she was close. So close.
Eren had changed.
More than Kuroka had ever dreamed of, Eren had changed.
Eren was embarrassed. He was angry. He was talking to people and making jokes.
Eren might not laugh or smile, but he was connecting to people. Even she, who had been with him the longest, and Vali, whom Eren had taken under his wing, had never been able to provoke half the emotions Kuroka had seen from the boy over the last few days.
For as long as she had known Eren, he had been... empty.
Driven to action, but not to will. A machine going through the motions, performing tasks without knowing why it did so.
Occasionally, very occasionally, his real emotions would peak through, usually in bursts of rage and violence, but they were always the exception that proved the rule.
Only now, on this bench, could Eren truly live.
"You never know, nyaa," Kuroka said playfully, cuddling back into Eren's side. Just because she couldn't access the Path to train didn't mean she wouldn't still curl up in her usual spot.
"I do," Eren denied, his voice unbending steel. "The Path is a bloodline. A connection between past, present and future to everyone who shares my genetics. If there was any Eldian in this world, now, in the past, or in the future, I would know about it. I'd be able to see what they see. I'd live every second of their life just as I do my own. But there is no one connected to me. No one before or after. The Path of this world was born and will die with me."
As if Kuroka would let that happen.
Eren Yeager did not get to die. Not until he had lived a long, happy life.
With her, specifically.
And Shirone.
And a few dozen kittens, interspersed over their millennia of life.
It would take a lot of practice, but Kuroka didn't mind. Devil fertility rates were notoriously terrible.
Right now, it was just a waiting game. After Eren fulfilled that promise he had made all those years ago, after everything he predicted came true, Kuroka could put her own plan into motion.
For now, she'd enjoy spending a cozy summer with the man she loved.
The other devils would be back at the end of summer, and she'd have to be more subtle then, lest their scary siblings find out where she was and go cat hunting.
Really, they were such Sis-cons that even the higher-ups in Khaos Brigade knew it. It was why Kokabiel had targeted them in the first place.
Kuroka shook her head. Her thoughts had been idling for long enough that she almost fell into another nap.
Curse Eren and his comfortable lap.
Kuroka had Eren Yeager all to herself right now, and he was more open than ever before. If she didn't take advantage, she'd forever regret it.
Kuroka could be lazy and procrastinate later.
"Tell me about yourself, nyaa," the Black Cat said lazily. Ok, she could procrastinate later.
"...What do you mean?"
"Anything, nyaaaaaah," Kuroka yawned. "About your past? Your world? Your friends? I just want to know."
"I..." Eren paused. "I don't know. What should I say? Looking back, there is so much and so little. It's all... tainted. By pain. By what happened later."
"Tell me about good times," Kuroka said softly. "When you were happy."
"When I was happy?" Eren asked as if wondering when such a time was.
"What were you like as a kid?" Kuroka prompted. Then, just for emphasis, she took his empty hand and placed it on her head. It was just to provide Eren with some physical comfort and not because it felt good. Really. "You must have some good memories."
Slowly, hesitantly, Eren started to move his hand.
"I do," he admitted.
"So tell me about them."
"I... suppose." Eren was quiet for a long moment as if deciding what to talk about. "I was a terrible child."
"Hmm?"
"I was," Eren nodded. "Always getting into fights. Being lazy whenever I could get away with it. And I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I still don't."
Kuroka wouldn't say that. Before Eren had left, getting information from him that wasn't instructions was like pulling teeth.
"My mom was always scolding me, patching me up, or apologizing on my behalf. My dad... He never got mad." Eren paused again. "Looking back, I realize he was trying to let me be myself. To not impose his way of life on me. To make up for his mistake with his first kid. He didn't want anything special from me. He just wanted me to be happy."
"The brother you told Shironyaa about?"
"Yes. My dad was... terrible to him. I love my dad, but he made mistakes." Eren shook his head. "Not as much as me, though. He was a better man. He let go of his hatred. Even when my mom... even then. He would have let them go."
There was another pause. Eren stopped petting her ears, so Kuroka shifted them back to happier topics.
"What about Armin?"
"Armin?" Eren blinked, coming back to the present. "Oh, right. I told you about him."
"Did you not want to?"
"No," Eren shook his head. "It's just I think that was the first time I ever said his name. Hearing it from you was unexpected."
"Why?" Kuroka wasn't surprised that he hadn't said Armin's name in his life. If he wouldn't tell her, who would he tell?
"Talking about him and... Talking about any of my past is hard, but those two... They're different. Even when the whole world was against me, when I declared war on the whole world and got one of our friends killed, they still would have sided with me. Not because I was the choice that saved them or gave them power, but just because it was me. They would have turned against the whole world for me. I had to do some... I had to give them motivation to not join me."
As always, hearing Eren mention, if even obliquely, to the woman he had loved sent a pang of jealousy down Kuroka's back, and her tails waved in her agitation.
Best to lead him back to happier thoughts again.
"How'd you meet Armin, nyaa?"
"He was being bullied," Eren shrugged. "I must have seen him get beat up a half dozen times. But no matter what they did to him, he never fought back. Not once. I wanted to know why. Was he just a coward?"
Eren's voice took on a quality, a note of nostalgia? Whistfullness? Fondness?
"He wasn't. Armin was the bravest, best of us all. The entire time they were hitting him, he was fighting a different war. One to be better. If he threw a punch, he'd lose that war. I admired that about him, but I wasn't him. If Armin wouldn't fight back, I would."
"That's how you'd get into fights?" Kuroka grinned, imagining a chibi Eren standing up for an imaginary child. "You were defending your friend? How cute."
"I lost," Eren shook his head wryly. "I'd see them ganging up on him because he wouldn't fight back, charge in without thought, and get beat for my trouble. If it wasn't for... Anyway, it was always the three of us. Before, and after... That Day."
Eren took on a more pensive, whistful tone.
"I don't think I would have made it through those two years after... after my parents, if not for those two. I know for sure I wouldn't have made it through training, or even my first mission, without them. That's how it would usually go. I'd mess things up, and they'd fix it. I was a terrible child. An awful friend."
Kuroka idly wondered how much the 'Child of Evil' moniker Eren had gained had affected him.
Then she shook off the thought and, once more, steered Eren away from his blue mood.
Eren wasn't making this easy, but Satans damn it, she was going to make him happy.
"Tell me about your training," Kuroka prompted. "What was it like?"
"Hard," Eren said instantly. "Increadibly difficult. A third dropped out in the first week. Another third never finished. They either dropped out, were kicked out, were too injured to continue, or died." Despite his words, there was pride in his spirit. "But... they were good times. The world was simple. You train. You get better. Every drop of sweat or blood you shed in training was so you had that tiniest chance do not die later."
Eren shook his head as if in disbelief at his younger self.
"We were so young. So dumb. We had no idea what the world was truly like. But the 104th... they were comrades. Friends. A replacement for the families we had lost. After three years together, our bonds were strong. Unbreakable. Or I thought so, at least."
Having learned her lesson from last time, Kuroka didn't give Eren time to descend into melancholy.
"This was your military symbol, right?" She asked, tapping his cane.
"One of them," Eren nodded. "There were three divisions, each with roles and their own symbol. The top ten in training got to choose which of the three to join, but everyone else was assigned their position. People trained harder to get to choose a cushier position."
"Were you in the top ten?"
"Number five," Eren nodded. Kuroka had trouble imagining four people better than Eren at anything physical but understood he hadn't always had his current abilities. "The position didn't really matter for me, though. I had always planned on joining the Survey Corps. They had the highest mortality rate and were the most desperate for volunteers, so anyone could choose them. Even if I didn't reach the top ten, I still would have joined them. I didn't train hard for the position. I just wanted to get better. To be able to kill more, to be free. And the Survey Corps represented that to me."
Eren ran his fingers across the hilt of his cane, feeling the carved wood.
"This symbol means to always to always go forward. To fight rather than die in a cage. To fight for hope, for a better future. For humanity. For a world where we didn't have to live in fear. If I was going to dedicate my heart to anything, it would be to the Wings of Freedom." Eren's fingers trailed across the two wings set into the handle. "Thank you for this."
"I didn't manage to surprise you, nyaa," Kuroka pretended to pout. "You found out immediately when I started making it. You are the one who told me how to carve the handle. You cheated."
"You decided to make it, not me. Just because I see the future doesn't mean your choices are any less yours," Eren shook his head. "Everyone makes that mistake. Even if I could control people, I wouldn't. Just because I've lived the future doesn't mean people don't affect it. They do. They are still free. They are still making the choices. I just see the result."
"You're cheating," Kuroka summarized plainly.
"If you want to think that way," Eren allowed. Then he paused, hand resting in petting her. "That first day, when we met, I already knew you'd give me this cane one day. That doesn't mean your feelings or choices mean any less to me. So, thank you, Kuroka. It is the best gift I've received in a very, very long time."
Kuroka felt her face flush at the softness in Eren's voice. She had never heard him speak like that before.
Kuroka knew, at that moment, that Eren wasn't just speaking of the cane but of all their time together.
It was as close to a confession as she had ever heard from Eren.
"You're welcome," Kuroka's voice was just as soft as she nuzzled deeper into his lap.
Eren had changed.
Kuroka hoped he could continue to change.
The two spent the rest of the day together in quiet companionship. In the end, Kuroka succeeded in making the day a good one, even if Eren didn't make it easy.
At some point, the two lazy lovers slipped into a doze and passed the day napping away on the bench.
********
Before anything else, I want to touch on one of the most common complaints I saw after the last chapter. The fact that neither Mikasa nor Sona brought up Eren's name potentially revealed to the others they were speaking about the same person. I've already explained Sona's rationale in the story, one that fits her character to a T, so I won't go over that again. As for Mikasa, let me ask any of my readers this:
Does anyone who has watched/read Attack on Titan expect Mikasa Ackerman to volunteer information more than the bare minimum to get her point across? I already thought I was making her more chatty than she should be in the last chapter, and only because she is a fully grown woman trying to teach someone she sees as an almost daughter.
Make no mistake: Mikasa reuniting with Eren is a foregone conclusion, and nobody is more excited than I am for when that happens. But it will happen naturally. Not artificially lengthed or shortened, but when I feel it comes up organically.
That's my piece on the subject. Everything else you will need to learn through reading the story.
As for this chapter, one of the most misunderstood parts of AOT, at least in my opinion, is the idea that all the suffering and hardship is meaningless because Eren could have just mind-wammied everyone. It would fundamentally go against his character if he did that, as committed as he is to freedom. Not only could he touch the memories of the People of Ymir, but The only memories he actively manipulated were his own; the only other exception was the messages he left for others after he died.
Everything else was him using the Attack Titan's power or only targeting Pure Titans. Not once did he use the Founder to control anyone, even when it could have saved the lives of people he cared about, such as Sasha. If he did so, it would go against everything that made 'Eren Yeager' who he was, good or bad.
Once again, another week has passed. Another chapter released, another step forward. I will meet you all, next week, on the bench.
I just don't like Eren. He just comes off as a preachy arrogant zealot to me. A person of pure principle over everything else. Like someone who murders everyone for his god. It's just that in Eren's case, his god is his idea of 'freedom'. As a pragmatist myself, I hate people like that. I care more about results instead of principles because real life is infinitely more complex than a single principle can handle or explain.
The time travel/precog "Actually there is no room for nuance and my way is the right way" stuff, even if canonically accurate, is extremely annoying to me, because often I find that as much as a character insists that such actions are the only solution, they often aren't actually the only solution with how flexible people actually are. It also takes away from characters' agency and make their choices less meaningful to me, and often is used to railroad a story to do inorganic things for drama.
I stopped following AOT after a certain point because despite liking the original premise a lot initially, I found myself liking the directions the story went less as time went on. Then a couple years after I put it down to give it time to build up so I can read it all at once, I learned there was time shenanigans and that killed the leftover interest I had left.
That said, that is more my complaints about AOT, Eren himself, and precog/time story devices. The writing itselfhere is actually good here. It's just more a personal dislike of those types of people and writing devices. With that said, now that I'm caught up, I think my dislike of those things will make the wait for the eventual Mikasa-Eren meeting extremely frustrating to me. Comes with the territory of reading a character about a character you don't like.
I am actually interested in what, if anything, you plan to write after this 'short story' (I think you said around 150k words and this already has 110k) and your other story on QQ is done since they both seem to be wrapping relatively soon. If your willing to talk about it I am curious. Do you have any ideas already? What setting/settings will it take place in if you do? Is it more of an action story like the QQ story or a character piece like this one? Long or short?
Edit: Added context
Also, I want to be extremely clear. This is very well written, and I think Eren is very well written. He feels almost like a real person, albeit a bit on the edgelord teenager side rather than an adult. It is just a matter of personal preference here. It doesn't matter if you're eating the highest quality chocolate in the world if you just don't like chocolate. I am not as interested in Eren's philosophy as others because I've already consumed a lot of other philosophy stuff in other media, so it isn't as interesting going over trodden ground, but that is a me thing that doesn't apply to other readers.
Normally I would offer some constructive criticieensm, but there isn't anything I think that is actually seriously 'bad' enough that it stood out enough for me to notice. The only thing I would say would be have people seriously challenge his viewpoints. So far it has mostly been him preaching and others just accepting it as gospel instead of thinking for themselves. Makes sense because the other characters are inexperienced children, but that does result in no one seriously challenging Eren. But even if they did, I don't think he would give at all, which is the exact reason I hate zealot characters/people like him. It doesn't help that a lot of Japanese shonen characters emotional 'problems' are ususlly unrealistic, dumb, extreme exagerations, charicatures, or something else easy to handwave away with the barest sliver of emotional maturity.
The time travel/precog "Actually there is no room for nuance and my way is the right way" stuff, even if canonically accurate, is extremely annoying to me, because often I find that as much as a character insists that such actions are the only solution, they often aren't actually the only solution with how flexible people actually are. It also takes away from characters' agency and make their choices less meaningful to me, and often is used to railroad a story to do inorganic things for drama.
I stopped following AOT after a certain point because despite liking the original premise a lot initially, I found myself liking the directions the story went less as time went on. Then a couple years after I put it down to give it time to build up so I can read it all at once, I learned there was time shenanigans and that killed the leftover interest I had left.
That said, that is more my complaints about AOT, Eren himself, and precog/time story devices. The writing itselfhere is actually good here. It's just more a personal dislike of those types of people and writing devices. With that said, now that I'm caught up, I think my dislike of those things will make the wait for the eventual Mikasa-Eren meeting extremely frustrating to me. Comes with the territory of reading a character about a character you don't like.
I am actually interested in what, if anything, you plan to write after this 'short story' (I think you said around 150k words and this already has 110k) and your other story on QQ is done since they both seem to be wrapping relatively soon. If your willing to talk about it I am curious. Do you have any ideas already? What setting/settings will it take place in if you do? Is it more of an action story like the QQ story or a character piece like this one? Long or short?
Edit: Added context
Also, I want to be extremely clear. This is very well written, and I think Eren is very well written. He feels almost like a real person, albeit a bit on the edgelord teenager side rather than an adult. It is just a matter of personal preference here. It doesn't matter if you're eating the highest quality chocolate in the world if you just don't like chocolate. I am not as interested in Eren's philosophy as others because I've already consumed a lot of other philosophy stuff in other media, so it isn't as interesting going over trodden ground, but that is a me thing that doesn't apply to other readers.
Normally I would offer some constructive criticieensm, but there isn't anything I think that is actually seriously 'bad' enough that it stood out enough for me to notice. The only thing I would say would be have people seriously challenge his viewpoints. So far it has mostly been him preaching and others just accepting it as gospel instead of thinking for themselves. Makes sense because the other characters are inexperienced children, but that does result in no one seriously challenging Eren. But even if they did, I don't think he would give at all, which is the exact reason I hate zealot characters/people like him. It doesn't help that a lot of Japanese shonen characters emotional 'problems' are ususlly unrealistic, dumb, extreme exagerations, charicatures, or something else easy to handwave away with the barest sliver of emotional maturity.
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Night of the Devil Ceremony
Rias was surrounded.
In enemy territory, with no allies to call upon, she faced her foes alone, armed with only her wits and will.
It wouldn't be wrong to say Rias was fighting for her very life.
But she would not back down.
She would fight and die on this hill if that was to be her fate, and she would do it with pride.
"Gurren Lagann is the peak of Mecha anime!"
"Rias, Rias, Rias," Seekvaira Agares shook her head as if looking at something pitiful. Her every movement was graceful, as expected of the heir of an archduke.
Backed up by her Peerage, she was the epitome of a young noble devil.
She was also completely wrong.
"The beauty of Mecha comes from the details," Seek-chan pontificated. "From their feasibility. The mechanics of their creation. The stats, the gear, and the possibility of one-day building and piloting one yourself. An absurdist rendition of Mecha cannot properly accentuate the majesty of the genre. You lose the gravity, the majesty, the weight. When something becomes too unbelievable, you lose perspective. That is to say, Gundam is better… Macross is also an acceptable answer."
The Peerage surrounding her nodded in agreement with their King's words.
Rias scowled. After not seeing her for over a year, she had come to talk to her friend, and they had devolved into a familiar argument. She didn't even have Akeno to back her up, as her Queen was talking with Sairaorg's Queen.
She would have to win this battle on her own.
"We are devils!" Rias argued back passionately. "The struggle to survive as a race! The chase for power! Gurren Lagann speaks to us on a level no other Mecha does. Should we not grow until we stand astride the universe, 10.45 trillion light years tall? Our power must become the drill that will pierce Heaven!"
So in awe was everyone around Rias (in her mind) that they could not mount a counterargument without careful thought.
"I always thought Evangelion was the best Mecha anime."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Like broken dolls, all heads slowly turned to look at the speaker.
One of Seek-chan's Peerage, one Rias didn't recognize, flushed under the attention.
"What," he squeaked in a quiet voice, his nerves failing him.
"My apologies, Lady Rias," Alivian, Seekvaira's Queen, said as he bowed regretfully. "He is a newly reincarnated Pawn. He is young and foolish and does not know of what he speaks."
"Hey!"
"I have been remiss in his education," Seekvaira sighed, giving Rias a nod of apology as well. "Trust me, when the gathering is over, I shall spend some time… re-educating him on what constitutes proper Mecha."
"See that you do," Rias nodded imperiously. "Maybe you will finally gain a Peer with true knowledge and appreciation for the genre."
Seek-chan's eyes narrowed, but she didn't argue further. Her Peerage was the one to make such a calamitous blunder.
Really, Evangelion. As peak Mecha? That was like saying Naruto was peak Shonen.
...Ok, that was an exaggeration, but still.
Rias enjoyed both Evangelion and Naruto, more so the former, but some standards needed to be upheld.
They may be devils, but they weren't barbarians.
"We shall continue this conversation at a later date," the Agares Heiress said primly. "It was good to speak with you again, Rias."
"You too, Seek-chan."
Rias walked away with her head held high, her victory accomplished.
Sometimes, an incompetent ally was worse than any competent enemy.
At no point did Rias self-reflect that all her friends, baring those that were part of her family, were those she had somehow cajoled (read: badgered) into engaging with her hobby.
Seeing as she had a few more minutes before they would be called, Rias looked around the waiting room for the Young Devil Gathering. Most of those gathered remained within their Peerages, talking in almost hushed whispers and shooting concerned glances around the room.
Rias received more than a few fearful glances herself, but she bore them with the grace of a lady.
Rias could understand their concerns. Not only were they going to be presented in front of the Lords and Ladies of the remaining 31 Pillar Families and the Four Satans as was standard for these bi-centennial events, but this was a precursor to the first time representatives of foreign factions had also been invited to watch.
The Peace Treaty was only a few months old, and it was already having a significant impact on their lives.
There would be Gods at their debut Rating Games to judge them as they declared their goals for the future.
Being nervous was expected.
So why was Rias... not?
Oh, there was some apprehension. Rias was going to declare her dream in front of her peers and her family, including her brother.
But... that was it.
Maybe it was because, unlike everyone else here, her dream was simple. Small. Selfish.
At the end of the day, whether she received the approval or disdain of the attendees was irrelevant.
Rias would accomplish her dream.
... Man, she sounded like an anime protagonist.
She should totally say that during one of their training sessions when the camera was rolling. It would be a great moment in the montage she'd show her children one day.
Lost in thought of crimson-haired children, all sitting with her as they watched her 'epic journey' together, Rias almost flinched when a voice called her.
"Rias," Sairaorg interrupted her thoughts, his towering form almost bursting from his perfectly tailored outfit with his every move. "I liked what you did earlier."
"Cousin," Rias greeted warmly. Though he had been banished from his family because he lacked the Power of Destruction, a power she had inherited, their relationship had remained strong. "And it was nothing. A trick from a friend."
"I hope you have more tricks. I hope to see all of them when we fight."
"You want to fight everyone," Rias laughed lightly, not taking his bluntness as an insult. "It seems like I am doomed to always be surrounded by battle maniacs. I shall introduce you to the White Dragon Emperor if I have the chance."
"I'll look forward to it," Sairaorg grinned, but his eyes narrowed. "I do want to fight everyone in this room, but only two fights have me excited. The Red Dragon Emperor. And you."
Rias didn't know how to take that.
"You're in luck then," she deflected. "You only need one Rating Game for both of us. If Issei doesn't beat you first, I'll have to fight you."
The Bael didn't say anything for a second; then his eyes widened, as did his grin.
"You haven't realized," he laughed.
"Realized what?" Rias asked, furrowing her brow.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you then." Sairaorg's grin was as amused as it was proud. "The number of devils who made Ultimate class in power, if not in status, at your age can be counted on one's hands. That there are two at this generation's gathering might be a record."
"What?" Rias asked, the words not making sense to her for a long moment. "I'm not Ultimate class."
"You are," Sairaog's smile was definitely one of humour now. "Barely, but you are. It must have been recently, too."
That couldn't be right.
Surely Rias would have noticed an increase in power... no.
She had noticed her power increasing, but it had steadily been growing since she had started training whenever she had the chance.
And hadn't it been increasing faster now that she had more partners to work with?
Whether it was Issei transferring her power so she could work on control with more significant reserves, Akeno's Holy Lightning being a great counter to her Power of Destruction, or even just Asia healing her so she could get back to training faster.
It would make sense that the rate would pick up with all the extra options she had.
And didn't she have more motivation than ever? Yes, the Phenex situation had been handled, but Eren's deadline drew ever closer, and Kokabiel had shown them just how far they needed to go.
Devils were creatures of desire. While those desires lead most of them to squander their potential, they also gave devils one of the most significant growth potentials of all supernatural species when properly channelled.
Rias had been channelling her desire to save her friend for almost a year to grow stronger. She had faced down not only a fully grown devil, one who had outclassed her in every respect, but had also fought for her life against one of the oldest enemies of her race.
Kokabiel had killed some of the original 72 demons, and yet Rias had fought him and lived. Hells, she had wounded him.
Rias had also spent the last few weeks non-stop training with her mother in the finer points of her power. The original Ruin Princess was an Ultimate class devil, stronger than many of her brothers' Peerage and even her father.
With all those factors together, it was possible, if unlikely, that her internal reserves had crossed the bare minimum to be considered Ultimate class.
Unlike other classes of devils, there was no upper limit on Ultimate class, but there was definitely a floor. The basic of basic metrics were internal reserves of power, though combat ability was also a factor when officially acknowledged as one and given the corresponding rank.
It wasn't rare for a devil to have the reserves of an Ultimate class being but be unable to use it in such a way to prove they deserved the promotion.
Theoretically, now that she had crossed the threshold, Rias could go to a specialized facility to be tested to see if she deserved to be called an Ultimate class devil.
She wouldn't, though. At least not yet.
For one, Rias didn't feel confident she could fight well enough to deserve the rank. For another, she had never sought the promotion to Princess, Dutchess, or Archduchess that came with the rank.
No. As always, Rias Gremory's motivation had been purely selfish.
But she had done it.
She now had the bare minimum of qualifications to offer Eren a place within her Peerage.
And she would.
Once she returned to the human world, Rias would make the offer.
She'd explain the supernatural, who she really was, and what she was offering. She'd promise Eren anything, so long as he accepted.
Eren would say no.
Rias knew that.
But it would be out in the open. Rias wouldn't need to hide the truth of what she was from him anymore and could work on changing his mind.
It didn't matter if Eren turned her down a thousand times.
He just had to say yes once.
All the while, Rias would keep training. Just because she had the bare minimum to make the offer didn't mean she was guaranteed to be strong enough to reincarnate him. She'd train every day until Eren was safely her Pawn.
Then...
"That's a good look in your eye, cousin," Sairaorg's rumbling voice tore Rias from her plans. His smile was no longer one of mirth but of hunger. Like a beast spotting its prey. "I am really looking forward to fighting you now."
"I can't say the same," Rias shook her head. Now wasn't the time or place to get lost in thought. "I did not miss that you said there were TWO Ultimate class devils here. And how did you sense my power so clearly when I couldn't even tell?" Sairaorg's smile was all teeth, but Rias didn't need him to answer. "You achieved Touki, didn't you?"
Touki was not Senjutsu, though the latter usually meant the former. Touki was just the complete control, awareness, and ability to use one's Ki. That perfect awareness of 'self' was known to have a multiplicative effect on the physical and magical senses, even if it didn't grant a true Sage's almost omnipresent sensing ability.
To have sensed something that even Rias hadn't, Sairaorg had to have achieved his goal.
The laugh that escaped the older devil drew all the attention in the room to the pair, loud and boisterous as it was.
Rias put her plans for Eren aside for the moment and allowed herself to feel pride in her cousin's almost unheard-of achievement.
Like Sairaorg had said, they weren't unique in achieving their rank at their age, even if it wasn't official yet and was rare.
What might very well be unique was someone achieving that without the bloodline advantages the Pillars enjoyed.
Rias had the Power of Destruction, had been born with prodigious reserves, trained regularly for years, and over the last year, had dedicated almost her entire life to crossing that threshold.
She had barely crossed it.
Sairaorg Bael had none of that.
His magical reserves were decent for a High-class devil, but that was it. He had no bloodline ability. And he had no support from his family after his 'disability' was discovered.
Everything he had achieved was through pure effort, willpower, and training.
And it was all physical.
He didn't have the luxury Rias did. He could not train and enjoy his hobbies at the same time. It was a grind, day in and day out, all on the slim chance to prove the world wrong.
And he had done it.
After experiencing a fraction of the effort her cousin must have gone through, Rias felt her respect for him skyrocket.
The pair might not be the first Young Devils to reach Ultimate class, but Sairaorg might be the very first to do so through physical training. Their race was simply more predisposed to magical training than physical. He was undoubtedly the very first to do so with Touki, an ability only a handful of devils had ever attained.
What a monster.
"Not just stronger," the older devil grinned down at her like a lion, uncaring that the gazels watched them. "You've gotten sharper. Is this what they call 'real experience?' I should try it."
"No," Rias denied. "I just have good friends. Don't go challenging cardinals because you want to experience it."
"Probably for the best," Sairaorg sighed, not even denying that he had been thinking of it. "We are at peace now. I hope the Khaos Brigade attacks me at some point. Maybe the White Dragon Emperor."
"Careful what you wish for," Rias cautioned the man, a shiver of fear running down her back. "Some of their members will wipe the floor with us, Ultimate class or not."
It was only luck that Black Cat Kuroka hadn't actually planned to catnap Koneko, or Rias wasn't sure they could have stopped her.
Grayfia could probably have beaten her, maybe, but stopping the Stray Devil from catnapping Rias' cute Rook would have been almost impossible with Kuroka's use of magic, Youjutsu, and Senjutsu. That was how absurdly dangerous Yokai got as their tails increased in number.
The power wasn't additive; it was multiplicative.
"Then I'll work my way up the ladder," Sairaorg, far from being deterred, looked even more excited. "Sharpen my fangs on the legs until I'm ready to bite the head off."
Before Rias could caution him some more, the door to the waiting hall opened, and a servant let them know they were being called to enter.
The cousins shared a nod as they rejoined their own Peerages for the journey.
It didn't take long for the six young devils, attended by their Peerages, to be standing in front of the gathered Lords and Ladies of the Underworld.
It was a layered seating arrangement in the amphitheatre, with the four Satans sitting at the peak and the dozens of devils and guests in rows below looking down on the stage. It was a placement designed to evoke a feeling of being looked down on and judged.
Like their worth was to be determined.
Already, there were murmurs and whispers around from the gallery that surveyed the groups.
More than a few were about Rias and her Peerage.
Far from feeling intimidated, Rias felt her will firm.
"Welcome," Sirzechs Lucifer, the highest ranking person there, warmly greeted the young men and women. Rias caught his eye for the briefest of moments and saw the pride in them. Would he still be proud in a few minutes? "In order to check the faces of you all, who will carry the burden of the next generation, we have gathered here."
Serafall was much less subtle in her acknowledgement of her sister, waving around a small blue flag that said, 'So-tan is the best!' Aunty Mikasa, the Leviathan's plus one, stood blank-faced behind her King as Sona flushed in embarrassment.
Despite having extended family members among the group, the other two Satans were much less invested.
Lord Beelzebub held a red vial in his hand, magic circles swirling around it as he ignored the world around him in favour of his research.
Lord Asmodeus was asleep.
"I admit," her bother chuckled as he looked over the group. "I expected some of you to come to blows while you were waiting. It is almost a tradition. That you didn't speaks well of this generation's wisdom."
Rias kept her back straight as Akeno giggled beside her, and the other young devils shot her looks.
It wasn't her fault Zephyrdol was making an ass out of himself to Seek-chan. The new Glaysa-Labolas heir should be thankful Rias had been the one to step in instead of Sairaorg.
It also gave Rias a great excuse to put her Eren Voice (TM) to practice.
Rias wondered if everyone in this room had been secretly watching the ante-chamber and knew what she did? If so, then her brother's words were no doubt a subtle way to raise her position in the eyes of those gathered.
... Was Sairaorg right? A year ago, Rias doubted she would have caught on to such a subtle political play. Did spending so much time with Sona and Eren, as well as her focus on minimal details in training, make her sharper?
A part of Rias chafed that, even now, her older brother was not letting her stand on her own.
Another part felt his warm concern and knew she was increadibly lucky to have someone looking out for her. Others lacked such family.
Rias stood, back straight, as she contemplated these questions. Around her, the ceremony continued, and eventually, they got to the part where the young devils were called to proclaim their dreams.
"My dream is to become a Satan."
Sairaorg's proclamation, the first to speak after Sirzechs had asked, had already sent the room into a tizzy. To declare such an ambition so plainly and without reservation was admirable.
There was also a layer of scandal behind the words.
No devil of the Great King family, the Bael, had ever given up the name willingly, even to become a Satan.
Sairaorg's story was well known, from member to exile to heir. To give up the title he had fought to achieve was a slap in the face to the Bael. It was a declaration that they were lesser.
How juicy.
"I shall become a Satan when the Underworld feels there is no choice but for me to become one."
Rias knew Sairaorg's statement alone would fuel the elite's rumour mills and gossip halls for the next few years.
Yet, in this gathering of young devils, his proclamation of grand ambition was destined to come in third place.
"My dream is to build a school."
Sona stood in front of the gathering of the Underworld, back straight and eyes narrowed, as she looked over the hall.
Like she wasn't the one being judged, but they were.
There were some murmurs around the crowd, then one Lord called out.
"What type of school?"
"A school for everything and everyone. Magic. Rating Games. Our race's culture and history. That of other races as well. Math. Science. Language. Every subject that can be taught will be taught."
"So, just a regular school," the same Lord sighed derisively. "There is already an academy for Rating Games and others for magic."
"That admit only High-class devils," Sona rejoined, not deterred in the slightest. "My school shall for everything and everyone. High class and Low class. Devil and Angel. Human or Yokai. Strong or weak. Healthy or crippled. So long as they wish to learn, my school will be there to teach. That is my dream."
There was a beat of silence.
Then laughter.
"""Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"""
"That's impossible!"
"This is just brilliant!"
"I see! So you're a little girl who dreams big!"
"It's good to be young! However, for the next head of the Sitri family to state such a dream, I have to say thank goodness that it was here at this introduction before your debut."
Sona Sitri bore the laughter and the mockery with a straight back.
The sneers and the jeers. Even as her Peerage shuffled in agitation, prepared to defend their King as they glared back up the gathered devils. Aunty Mikasa held her King back as the Levithan frothed at the mouth to get to the fools laughing at her darling sister.
No matter what, Sona Sitri stood firm.
Then, when there was a lull in the derision heaped on her from the crowd, she spoke.
Her voice was not louder than before, nor was it agitated or hurried. It was the same cool, measured tone as ever.
"I do dream big. I dream a dream so big that the whole world will look at my dream in envy. I take pride in my dream. I am dedicating my entire heart to my dream. If you cannot say the same, if you claim my dream is impossible, that just means your dreams, your ambitions, are too small."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Sona was not the strongest of the young men and women here.
She wasn't the most well-known or talented. In a society that valued power, she was middling at best among High-class devils in terms of potential.
Yet, in this record-breaking Young Devil Gathering, the Sitri Heiress' dream and her challenge sealed her position as the greatest of the Young Devils to watch.
Rias stared at her friend in wonder, not believing what Sona had just done.
While Sona had a stubborn streak, she was also a cautious individual. Even better than Rias, she knew how much politics would play in achieving her dream.
These were the movers and shakers of the Underworld. Getting them on her side would be paramount to achieving her dream. If she failed, if she made enemies of them, it would become all but impossible.
And Sona had just insulted them all.
"The world has changed," Sona declared into the silence. "We are at peace. No longer will killing our enemies until we are all that is left be possible. We will disappoint our ancestors if we remain chained to old traditions and do not exploit the opportunity before us. We must win through other means. My dream shall be a stepping stone towards something no devil has ever attained. Permanence. An institution that shall outlast everything else. You can laugh. You can fight. You might even kill me. But you cannot kill an idea. My school, my dream, will come true. You can either join us or be left behind."
Sona stepped back, rejoining her Peerage as they beamed around the room in pride.
More silence.
Someone clapped.
It was not Serafall Leviathan.
All eyes landed on Zekram Bael as he slowly brought his hands together.
"Now that is a dream befitting a devil."
Unsurprisingly, Serafall Leviathan was the first to break the silence of the Great King's declaration.
"WHHOOOOOO!!!" The satan hollered, waving her flag energetically. "Go So-tan, go So-tan, go So-tan."
Behind her, Mikasa beamed down at her honorary niece in pride. Though you could only tell if you knew her since her face barely changed.
The other Satans, even Beelzebub and Asmodeus, who had woken up, also clapped.
With pressure from above, both the New Satan and Great King factions were forced to join in the applause.
Some genuinely, but many didn't look happy.
"Um," Ise whispered behind Rias. "What just happened?"
"I'll explain later," Akeno whispered back.
Rias didn't blame her Rook for not getting it. She wouldn't have either if she didn't know Sona so well.
As it was, Rias barely believed Sona was making such a bold move.
Sairaorg declared that he'd become a Satan when the population of the Underworld decided there was no choice BUT to make him one.
In contrast, Sona had skipped over the process entirely and forced the gathering of Lords and Ladies to support her dream.
She declared peace with the other factions had not stopped the Great War with their historic enemies. Just shifted the type of war fought. Devils were no longer in a hot war but a cold one.
A culture war.
And Sona had put her dream, her school, at the forefront of that supposed conflict.
If her school did become what she wanted it to be, the greatest the world had ever seen, it could influence every other faction through their education, slanting things in favour of devils.
A way to win a war while adhering to a peace treaty many old devils disagreed with. Money, power, and fame would all come flowing into the hands of the side that won.
It also would help answer the problem the Pillars were having with reincarnated devils, as they, too, would be influenced by Sona's propaganda.
Sona had called out everyone who didn't support her dream as unambitious, stupid, and a hindrance to devil society.
Either they supported her, or they would get no benefit from her school. Worse, they would be making enemies of those who stood to benefit and supported her dream.
It was an incredibly deft political movement, turning Sona's dream from a far-fetched goal of a young devil to one that needed to be accomplished by devil kind to win this new war.
If that had indeed been Sona's goal, it would have been a raging success.
It wasn't.
Rias knew her childhood friend, her rival.
Knew her beliefs, abilities, and dreams.
Sona would never turn her school into a center for devil propaganda.
She would undoubtedly teach the devil's history and culture, but she would make things as objective as possible. There would be no slanting, no brainwashing, and no winning a culture war.
Sona's dream was just a school that taught everything to anyone willing to learn.
While her declaration of her dream had garnered her the support she'd need to get started, once those supporters learned she wouldn't be teaching reincarnated devils, angels, fallen angels, or anyone else attending how great they were, those supporters would turn into enemies.
Sona was betting on herself.
She was betting on being successful enough, influential enough, and her school being ingrained enough by the time that realization hit that her dream would not doom her.
If Sona failed, if her dream school never reached the heights she desired, she'd lose it all.
The people who knew her realized this. The Satans knew this. The Great King knew this.
More than that, she had to prove she had the ability to back up such a radical dream. Everyone would be watching her now, looking for even the slightest sign of weakness. If Sona faltered, even once, she'd fail.
Sona had gained support, but she was more alone than ever. It was all up to her now.
Truly, a dream befitting a devil.
For the first time in her life, as she joined in the applause, Rias compared herself to her rival and felt... small.
Selfish.
Petty.
And... Rias was all right with that, she realized.
Rias was all right with her small, selfish, petty, dream.
Rias Gremory was not the type of girl who dreamed of changing the world or reshaping society.
Rias was perfectly happy with her family, Peerage, hobbies, and tiny, selfish wishes.
She was content to support those with big dreams.
Whether it was helping Sona with her school, subtly nudging things to help Issei build his harem, scouting venues for Yuuto's bakery, or any number of other ways to make her life, and theirs, just a teeny-tiny bit better.
So, after the applause died down, and it was time for the other four young devils to declare their dreams, Rias felt none of the nervousness the others felt when she stepped forward.
Rias wasn't worried about being upstaged or being found wanting. She wasn't trying to become a Satan. She wasn't promising to change Underworld culture forever.
'Rias Gremory' was simply Rias, and that was enough.
"I don't have a dream." Rias declared boldly to the room. She didn't shout the words. She stated them. They were fact. "I have a promise."
The room stirred. Already, this gathering had turned out very different than any before it. This generation of Young Devils was one for the history books.
What new surprise was this going to be?
Those expecting some grand proclamation of ambition were disappointed with Rias in the coming weeks.
Those who understood her deeper meaning knew that her promise, her small selfish promise, was only behind Sona's in terms of difficulty.
"We will be free."
'We' not 'I.'
Free to chase their dreams.
Free to be who they wanted to be.
Free from fear, pain, loneliness, and sadness.
Free to live in a world where children were not abused, turned into soldiers, or cursed for being born.
Free to live.
A dream, a promise, not for herself but for her friends and family. For those who supported her, she'd support in turn.
A declaration unbefitting a devil, yet perhaps the most devilish wish of all.
"And we will destroy all who try to take that freedom from us."
********
I've had this scene in my head since the start of this fic. In my opinion, the Youth Devil Gathering was one of the most significant missed opportunities of DxD. A chance to really cement some characters as more than 'waifu bait.'
Instead of declaring an ambition that would show how much she's grown since the start of the series, Rias declares she's going to be 'Rating game champ,' which she has never even mentioned before now. Sona is both better and worse. Her dream is better, but it also doesn't go anywhere. The school she wanted to build never went about, and far from upending devil society as promised, she went on to become the head of the house, giving up practically everything.
That entire situation was more about setting a tournament arc and introducing rivals to Issei, like Saji and Sairaorg, than it was about any growth in story or characters.
Well, in this story, Eren, and to a lesser extent Mikasa, have had an effect. One that is both obvious and subtle. Rias still wants to win rating games, of course, but that has become tangential. A byproduct of what she sees as her true dream. From the beginning, being free to live as 'Rias' is a central theme of her character, and aiding her friends in having that same freedom, along with herself, I feel is a dream much more befitting her. Everything else will come with that purpose.
Part 3 is all about a turning point, a hinge on which the characters, the story, and the world change. Not necessarily the source but the result. This chapter, plus the next three planned, are some of the most exciting I've been to write.
I will be waiting for you all next week on the bench.
In enemy territory, with no allies to call upon, she faced her foes alone, armed with only her wits and will.
It wouldn't be wrong to say Rias was fighting for her very life.
But she would not back down.
She would fight and die on this hill if that was to be her fate, and she would do it with pride.
"Gurren Lagann is the peak of Mecha anime!"
"Rias, Rias, Rias," Seekvaira Agares shook her head as if looking at something pitiful. Her every movement was graceful, as expected of the heir of an archduke.
Backed up by her Peerage, she was the epitome of a young noble devil.
She was also completely wrong.
"The beauty of Mecha comes from the details," Seek-chan pontificated. "From their feasibility. The mechanics of their creation. The stats, the gear, and the possibility of one-day building and piloting one yourself. An absurdist rendition of Mecha cannot properly accentuate the majesty of the genre. You lose the gravity, the majesty, the weight. When something becomes too unbelievable, you lose perspective. That is to say, Gundam is better… Macross is also an acceptable answer."
The Peerage surrounding her nodded in agreement with their King's words.
Rias scowled. After not seeing her for over a year, she had come to talk to her friend, and they had devolved into a familiar argument. She didn't even have Akeno to back her up, as her Queen was talking with Sairaorg's Queen.
She would have to win this battle on her own.
"We are devils!" Rias argued back passionately. "The struggle to survive as a race! The chase for power! Gurren Lagann speaks to us on a level no other Mecha does. Should we not grow until we stand astride the universe, 10.45 trillion light years tall? Our power must become the drill that will pierce Heaven!"
So in awe was everyone around Rias (in her mind) that they could not mount a counterargument without careful thought.
"I always thought Evangelion was the best Mecha anime."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Like broken dolls, all heads slowly turned to look at the speaker.
One of Seek-chan's Peerage, one Rias didn't recognize, flushed under the attention.
"What," he squeaked in a quiet voice, his nerves failing him.
"My apologies, Lady Rias," Alivian, Seekvaira's Queen, said as he bowed regretfully. "He is a newly reincarnated Pawn. He is young and foolish and does not know of what he speaks."
"Hey!"
"I have been remiss in his education," Seekvaira sighed, giving Rias a nod of apology as well. "Trust me, when the gathering is over, I shall spend some time… re-educating him on what constitutes proper Mecha."
"See that you do," Rias nodded imperiously. "Maybe you will finally gain a Peer with true knowledge and appreciation for the genre."
Seek-chan's eyes narrowed, but she didn't argue further. Her Peerage was the one to make such a calamitous blunder.
Really, Evangelion. As peak Mecha? That was like saying Naruto was peak Shonen.
...Ok, that was an exaggeration, but still.
Rias enjoyed both Evangelion and Naruto, more so the former, but some standards needed to be upheld.
They may be devils, but they weren't barbarians.
"We shall continue this conversation at a later date," the Agares Heiress said primly. "It was good to speak with you again, Rias."
"You too, Seek-chan."
Rias walked away with her head held high, her victory accomplished.
Sometimes, an incompetent ally was worse than any competent enemy.
At no point did Rias self-reflect that all her friends, baring those that were part of her family, were those she had somehow cajoled (read: badgered) into engaging with her hobby.
Seeing as she had a few more minutes before they would be called, Rias looked around the waiting room for the Young Devil Gathering. Most of those gathered remained within their Peerages, talking in almost hushed whispers and shooting concerned glances around the room.
Rias received more than a few fearful glances herself, but she bore them with the grace of a lady.
Rias could understand their concerns. Not only were they going to be presented in front of the Lords and Ladies of the remaining 31 Pillar Families and the Four Satans as was standard for these bi-centennial events, but this was a precursor to the first time representatives of foreign factions had also been invited to watch.
The Peace Treaty was only a few months old, and it was already having a significant impact on their lives.
There would be Gods at their debut Rating Games to judge them as they declared their goals for the future.
Being nervous was expected.
So why was Rias... not?
Oh, there was some apprehension. Rias was going to declare her dream in front of her peers and her family, including her brother.
But... that was it.
Maybe it was because, unlike everyone else here, her dream was simple. Small. Selfish.
At the end of the day, whether she received the approval or disdain of the attendees was irrelevant.
Rias would accomplish her dream.
... Man, she sounded like an anime protagonist.
She should totally say that during one of their training sessions when the camera was rolling. It would be a great moment in the montage she'd show her children one day.
Lost in thought of crimson-haired children, all sitting with her as they watched her 'epic journey' together, Rias almost flinched when a voice called her.
"Rias," Sairaorg interrupted her thoughts, his towering form almost bursting from his perfectly tailored outfit with his every move. "I liked what you did earlier."
"Cousin," Rias greeted warmly. Though he had been banished from his family because he lacked the Power of Destruction, a power she had inherited, their relationship had remained strong. "And it was nothing. A trick from a friend."
"I hope you have more tricks. I hope to see all of them when we fight."
"You want to fight everyone," Rias laughed lightly, not taking his bluntness as an insult. "It seems like I am doomed to always be surrounded by battle maniacs. I shall introduce you to the White Dragon Emperor if I have the chance."
"I'll look forward to it," Sairaorg grinned, but his eyes narrowed. "I do want to fight everyone in this room, but only two fights have me excited. The Red Dragon Emperor. And you."
Rias didn't know how to take that.
"You're in luck then," she deflected. "You only need one Rating Game for both of us. If Issei doesn't beat you first, I'll have to fight you."
The Bael didn't say anything for a second; then his eyes widened, as did his grin.
"You haven't realized," he laughed.
"Realized what?" Rias asked, furrowing her brow.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you then." Sairaorg's grin was as amused as it was proud. "The number of devils who made Ultimate class in power, if not in status, at your age can be counted on one's hands. That there are two at this generation's gathering might be a record."
"What?" Rias asked, the words not making sense to her for a long moment. "I'm not Ultimate class."
"You are," Sairaog's smile was definitely one of humour now. "Barely, but you are. It must have been recently, too."
That couldn't be right.
Surely Rias would have noticed an increase in power... no.
She had noticed her power increasing, but it had steadily been growing since she had started training whenever she had the chance.
And hadn't it been increasing faster now that she had more partners to work with?
Whether it was Issei transferring her power so she could work on control with more significant reserves, Akeno's Holy Lightning being a great counter to her Power of Destruction, or even just Asia healing her so she could get back to training faster.
It would make sense that the rate would pick up with all the extra options she had.
And didn't she have more motivation than ever? Yes, the Phenex situation had been handled, but Eren's deadline drew ever closer, and Kokabiel had shown them just how far they needed to go.
Devils were creatures of desire. While those desires lead most of them to squander their potential, they also gave devils one of the most significant growth potentials of all supernatural species when properly channelled.
Rias had been channelling her desire to save her friend for almost a year to grow stronger. She had faced down not only a fully grown devil, one who had outclassed her in every respect, but had also fought for her life against one of the oldest enemies of her race.
Kokabiel had killed some of the original 72 demons, and yet Rias had fought him and lived. Hells, she had wounded him.
Rias had also spent the last few weeks non-stop training with her mother in the finer points of her power. The original Ruin Princess was an Ultimate class devil, stronger than many of her brothers' Peerage and even her father.
With all those factors together, it was possible, if unlikely, that her internal reserves had crossed the bare minimum to be considered Ultimate class.
Unlike other classes of devils, there was no upper limit on Ultimate class, but there was definitely a floor. The basic of basic metrics were internal reserves of power, though combat ability was also a factor when officially acknowledged as one and given the corresponding rank.
It wasn't rare for a devil to have the reserves of an Ultimate class being but be unable to use it in such a way to prove they deserved the promotion.
Theoretically, now that she had crossed the threshold, Rias could go to a specialized facility to be tested to see if she deserved to be called an Ultimate class devil.
She wouldn't, though. At least not yet.
For one, Rias didn't feel confident she could fight well enough to deserve the rank. For another, she had never sought the promotion to Princess, Dutchess, or Archduchess that came with the rank.
No. As always, Rias Gremory's motivation had been purely selfish.
But she had done it.
She now had the bare minimum of qualifications to offer Eren a place within her Peerage.
And she would.
Once she returned to the human world, Rias would make the offer.
She'd explain the supernatural, who she really was, and what she was offering. She'd promise Eren anything, so long as he accepted.
Eren would say no.
Rias knew that.
But it would be out in the open. Rias wouldn't need to hide the truth of what she was from him anymore and could work on changing his mind.
It didn't matter if Eren turned her down a thousand times.
He just had to say yes once.
All the while, Rias would keep training. Just because she had the bare minimum to make the offer didn't mean she was guaranteed to be strong enough to reincarnate him. She'd train every day until Eren was safely her Pawn.
Then...
"That's a good look in your eye, cousin," Sairaorg's rumbling voice tore Rias from her plans. His smile was no longer one of mirth but of hunger. Like a beast spotting its prey. "I am really looking forward to fighting you now."
"I can't say the same," Rias shook her head. Now wasn't the time or place to get lost in thought. "I did not miss that you said there were TWO Ultimate class devils here. And how did you sense my power so clearly when I couldn't even tell?" Sairaorg's smile was all teeth, but Rias didn't need him to answer. "You achieved Touki, didn't you?"
Touki was not Senjutsu, though the latter usually meant the former. Touki was just the complete control, awareness, and ability to use one's Ki. That perfect awareness of 'self' was known to have a multiplicative effect on the physical and magical senses, even if it didn't grant a true Sage's almost omnipresent sensing ability.
To have sensed something that even Rias hadn't, Sairaorg had to have achieved his goal.
The laugh that escaped the older devil drew all the attention in the room to the pair, loud and boisterous as it was.
Rias put her plans for Eren aside for the moment and allowed herself to feel pride in her cousin's almost unheard-of achievement.
Like Sairaorg had said, they weren't unique in achieving their rank at their age, even if it wasn't official yet and was rare.
What might very well be unique was someone achieving that without the bloodline advantages the Pillars enjoyed.
Rias had the Power of Destruction, had been born with prodigious reserves, trained regularly for years, and over the last year, had dedicated almost her entire life to crossing that threshold.
She had barely crossed it.
Sairaorg Bael had none of that.
His magical reserves were decent for a High-class devil, but that was it. He had no bloodline ability. And he had no support from his family after his 'disability' was discovered.
Everything he had achieved was through pure effort, willpower, and training.
And it was all physical.
He didn't have the luxury Rias did. He could not train and enjoy his hobbies at the same time. It was a grind, day in and day out, all on the slim chance to prove the world wrong.
And he had done it.
After experiencing a fraction of the effort her cousin must have gone through, Rias felt her respect for him skyrocket.
The pair might not be the first Young Devils to reach Ultimate class, but Sairaorg might be the very first to do so through physical training. Their race was simply more predisposed to magical training than physical. He was undoubtedly the very first to do so with Touki, an ability only a handful of devils had ever attained.
What a monster.
"Not just stronger," the older devil grinned down at her like a lion, uncaring that the gazels watched them. "You've gotten sharper. Is this what they call 'real experience?' I should try it."
"No," Rias denied. "I just have good friends. Don't go challenging cardinals because you want to experience it."
"Probably for the best," Sairaorg sighed, not even denying that he had been thinking of it. "We are at peace now. I hope the Khaos Brigade attacks me at some point. Maybe the White Dragon Emperor."
"Careful what you wish for," Rias cautioned the man, a shiver of fear running down her back. "Some of their members will wipe the floor with us, Ultimate class or not."
It was only luck that Black Cat Kuroka hadn't actually planned to catnap Koneko, or Rias wasn't sure they could have stopped her.
Grayfia could probably have beaten her, maybe, but stopping the Stray Devil from catnapping Rias' cute Rook would have been almost impossible with Kuroka's use of magic, Youjutsu, and Senjutsu. That was how absurdly dangerous Yokai got as their tails increased in number.
The power wasn't additive; it was multiplicative.
"Then I'll work my way up the ladder," Sairaorg, far from being deterred, looked even more excited. "Sharpen my fangs on the legs until I'm ready to bite the head off."
Before Rias could caution him some more, the door to the waiting hall opened, and a servant let them know they were being called to enter.
The cousins shared a nod as they rejoined their own Peerages for the journey.
It didn't take long for the six young devils, attended by their Peerages, to be standing in front of the gathered Lords and Ladies of the Underworld.
It was a layered seating arrangement in the amphitheatre, with the four Satans sitting at the peak and the dozens of devils and guests in rows below looking down on the stage. It was a placement designed to evoke a feeling of being looked down on and judged.
Like their worth was to be determined.
Already, there were murmurs and whispers around from the gallery that surveyed the groups.
More than a few were about Rias and her Peerage.
Far from feeling intimidated, Rias felt her will firm.
"Welcome," Sirzechs Lucifer, the highest ranking person there, warmly greeted the young men and women. Rias caught his eye for the briefest of moments and saw the pride in them. Would he still be proud in a few minutes? "In order to check the faces of you all, who will carry the burden of the next generation, we have gathered here."
Serafall was much less subtle in her acknowledgement of her sister, waving around a small blue flag that said, 'So-tan is the best!' Aunty Mikasa, the Leviathan's plus one, stood blank-faced behind her King as Sona flushed in embarrassment.
Despite having extended family members among the group, the other two Satans were much less invested.
Lord Beelzebub held a red vial in his hand, magic circles swirling around it as he ignored the world around him in favour of his research.
Lord Asmodeus was asleep.
"I admit," her bother chuckled as he looked over the group. "I expected some of you to come to blows while you were waiting. It is almost a tradition. That you didn't speaks well of this generation's wisdom."
Rias kept her back straight as Akeno giggled beside her, and the other young devils shot her looks.
It wasn't her fault Zephyrdol was making an ass out of himself to Seek-chan. The new Glaysa-Labolas heir should be thankful Rias had been the one to step in instead of Sairaorg.
It also gave Rias a great excuse to put her Eren Voice (TM) to practice.
Rias wondered if everyone in this room had been secretly watching the ante-chamber and knew what she did? If so, then her brother's words were no doubt a subtle way to raise her position in the eyes of those gathered.
... Was Sairaorg right? A year ago, Rias doubted she would have caught on to such a subtle political play. Did spending so much time with Sona and Eren, as well as her focus on minimal details in training, make her sharper?
A part of Rias chafed that, even now, her older brother was not letting her stand on her own.
Another part felt his warm concern and knew she was increadibly lucky to have someone looking out for her. Others lacked such family.
Rias stood, back straight, as she contemplated these questions. Around her, the ceremony continued, and eventually, they got to the part where the young devils were called to proclaim their dreams.
"My dream is to become a Satan."
Sairaorg's proclamation, the first to speak after Sirzechs had asked, had already sent the room into a tizzy. To declare such an ambition so plainly and without reservation was admirable.
There was also a layer of scandal behind the words.
No devil of the Great King family, the Bael, had ever given up the name willingly, even to become a Satan.
Sairaorg's story was well known, from member to exile to heir. To give up the title he had fought to achieve was a slap in the face to the Bael. It was a declaration that they were lesser.
How juicy.
"I shall become a Satan when the Underworld feels there is no choice but for me to become one."
Rias knew Sairaorg's statement alone would fuel the elite's rumour mills and gossip halls for the next few years.
Yet, in this gathering of young devils, his proclamation of grand ambition was destined to come in third place.
"My dream is to build a school."
Sona stood in front of the gathering of the Underworld, back straight and eyes narrowed, as she looked over the hall.
Like she wasn't the one being judged, but they were.
There were some murmurs around the crowd, then one Lord called out.
"What type of school?"
"A school for everything and everyone. Magic. Rating Games. Our race's culture and history. That of other races as well. Math. Science. Language. Every subject that can be taught will be taught."
"So, just a regular school," the same Lord sighed derisively. "There is already an academy for Rating Games and others for magic."
"That admit only High-class devils," Sona rejoined, not deterred in the slightest. "My school shall for everything and everyone. High class and Low class. Devil and Angel. Human or Yokai. Strong or weak. Healthy or crippled. So long as they wish to learn, my school will be there to teach. That is my dream."
There was a beat of silence.
Then laughter.
"""Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"""
"That's impossible!"
"This is just brilliant!"
"I see! So you're a little girl who dreams big!"
"It's good to be young! However, for the next head of the Sitri family to state such a dream, I have to say thank goodness that it was here at this introduction before your debut."
Sona Sitri bore the laughter and the mockery with a straight back.
The sneers and the jeers. Even as her Peerage shuffled in agitation, prepared to defend their King as they glared back up the gathered devils. Aunty Mikasa held her King back as the Levithan frothed at the mouth to get to the fools laughing at her darling sister.
No matter what, Sona Sitri stood firm.
Then, when there was a lull in the derision heaped on her from the crowd, she spoke.
Her voice was not louder than before, nor was it agitated or hurried. It was the same cool, measured tone as ever.
"I do dream big. I dream a dream so big that the whole world will look at my dream in envy. I take pride in my dream. I am dedicating my entire heart to my dream. If you cannot say the same, if you claim my dream is impossible, that just means your dreams, your ambitions, are too small."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Sona was not the strongest of the young men and women here.
She wasn't the most well-known or talented. In a society that valued power, she was middling at best among High-class devils in terms of potential.
Yet, in this record-breaking Young Devil Gathering, the Sitri Heiress' dream and her challenge sealed her position as the greatest of the Young Devils to watch.
Rias stared at her friend in wonder, not believing what Sona had just done.
While Sona had a stubborn streak, she was also a cautious individual. Even better than Rias, she knew how much politics would play in achieving her dream.
These were the movers and shakers of the Underworld. Getting them on her side would be paramount to achieving her dream. If she failed, if she made enemies of them, it would become all but impossible.
And Sona had just insulted them all.
"The world has changed," Sona declared into the silence. "We are at peace. No longer will killing our enemies until we are all that is left be possible. We will disappoint our ancestors if we remain chained to old traditions and do not exploit the opportunity before us. We must win through other means. My dream shall be a stepping stone towards something no devil has ever attained. Permanence. An institution that shall outlast everything else. You can laugh. You can fight. You might even kill me. But you cannot kill an idea. My school, my dream, will come true. You can either join us or be left behind."
Sona stepped back, rejoining her Peerage as they beamed around the room in pride.
More silence.
Someone clapped.
It was not Serafall Leviathan.
All eyes landed on Zekram Bael as he slowly brought his hands together.
"Now that is a dream befitting a devil."
Unsurprisingly, Serafall Leviathan was the first to break the silence of the Great King's declaration.
"WHHOOOOOO!!!" The satan hollered, waving her flag energetically. "Go So-tan, go So-tan, go So-tan."
Behind her, Mikasa beamed down at her honorary niece in pride. Though you could only tell if you knew her since her face barely changed.
The other Satans, even Beelzebub and Asmodeus, who had woken up, also clapped.
With pressure from above, both the New Satan and Great King factions were forced to join in the applause.
Some genuinely, but many didn't look happy.
"Um," Ise whispered behind Rias. "What just happened?"
"I'll explain later," Akeno whispered back.
Rias didn't blame her Rook for not getting it. She wouldn't have either if she didn't know Sona so well.
As it was, Rias barely believed Sona was making such a bold move.
Sairaorg declared that he'd become a Satan when the population of the Underworld decided there was no choice BUT to make him one.
In contrast, Sona had skipped over the process entirely and forced the gathering of Lords and Ladies to support her dream.
She declared peace with the other factions had not stopped the Great War with their historic enemies. Just shifted the type of war fought. Devils were no longer in a hot war but a cold one.
A culture war.
And Sona had put her dream, her school, at the forefront of that supposed conflict.
If her school did become what she wanted it to be, the greatest the world had ever seen, it could influence every other faction through their education, slanting things in favour of devils.
A way to win a war while adhering to a peace treaty many old devils disagreed with. Money, power, and fame would all come flowing into the hands of the side that won.
It also would help answer the problem the Pillars were having with reincarnated devils, as they, too, would be influenced by Sona's propaganda.
Sona had called out everyone who didn't support her dream as unambitious, stupid, and a hindrance to devil society.
Either they supported her, or they would get no benefit from her school. Worse, they would be making enemies of those who stood to benefit and supported her dream.
It was an incredibly deft political movement, turning Sona's dream from a far-fetched goal of a young devil to one that needed to be accomplished by devil kind to win this new war.
If that had indeed been Sona's goal, it would have been a raging success.
It wasn't.
Rias knew her childhood friend, her rival.
Knew her beliefs, abilities, and dreams.
Sona would never turn her school into a center for devil propaganda.
She would undoubtedly teach the devil's history and culture, but she would make things as objective as possible. There would be no slanting, no brainwashing, and no winning a culture war.
Sona's dream was just a school that taught everything to anyone willing to learn.
While her declaration of her dream had garnered her the support she'd need to get started, once those supporters learned she wouldn't be teaching reincarnated devils, angels, fallen angels, or anyone else attending how great they were, those supporters would turn into enemies.
Sona was betting on herself.
She was betting on being successful enough, influential enough, and her school being ingrained enough by the time that realization hit that her dream would not doom her.
If Sona failed, if her dream school never reached the heights she desired, she'd lose it all.
The people who knew her realized this. The Satans knew this. The Great King knew this.
More than that, she had to prove she had the ability to back up such a radical dream. Everyone would be watching her now, looking for even the slightest sign of weakness. If Sona faltered, even once, she'd fail.
Sona had gained support, but she was more alone than ever. It was all up to her now.
Truly, a dream befitting a devil.
For the first time in her life, as she joined in the applause, Rias compared herself to her rival and felt... small.
Selfish.
Petty.
And... Rias was all right with that, she realized.
Rias was all right with her small, selfish, petty, dream.
Rias Gremory was not the type of girl who dreamed of changing the world or reshaping society.
Rias was perfectly happy with her family, Peerage, hobbies, and tiny, selfish wishes.
She was content to support those with big dreams.
Whether it was helping Sona with her school, subtly nudging things to help Issei build his harem, scouting venues for Yuuto's bakery, or any number of other ways to make her life, and theirs, just a teeny-tiny bit better.
So, after the applause died down, and it was time for the other four young devils to declare their dreams, Rias felt none of the nervousness the others felt when she stepped forward.
Rias wasn't worried about being upstaged or being found wanting. She wasn't trying to become a Satan. She wasn't promising to change Underworld culture forever.
'Rias Gremory' was simply Rias, and that was enough.
"I don't have a dream." Rias declared boldly to the room. She didn't shout the words. She stated them. They were fact. "I have a promise."
The room stirred. Already, this gathering had turned out very different than any before it. This generation of Young Devils was one for the history books.
What new surprise was this going to be?
Those expecting some grand proclamation of ambition were disappointed with Rias in the coming weeks.
Those who understood her deeper meaning knew that her promise, her small selfish promise, was only behind Sona's in terms of difficulty.
"We will be free."
'We' not 'I.'
Free to chase their dreams.
Free to be who they wanted to be.
Free from fear, pain, loneliness, and sadness.
Free to live in a world where children were not abused, turned into soldiers, or cursed for being born.
Free to live.
A dream, a promise, not for herself but for her friends and family. For those who supported her, she'd support in turn.
A declaration unbefitting a devil, yet perhaps the most devilish wish of all.
"And we will destroy all who try to take that freedom from us."
********
I've had this scene in my head since the start of this fic. In my opinion, the Youth Devil Gathering was one of the most significant missed opportunities of DxD. A chance to really cement some characters as more than 'waifu bait.'
Instead of declaring an ambition that would show how much she's grown since the start of the series, Rias declares she's going to be 'Rating game champ,' which she has never even mentioned before now. Sona is both better and worse. Her dream is better, but it also doesn't go anywhere. The school she wanted to build never went about, and far from upending devil society as promised, she went on to become the head of the house, giving up practically everything.
That entire situation was more about setting a tournament arc and introducing rivals to Issei, like Saji and Sairaorg, than it was about any growth in story or characters.
Well, in this story, Eren, and to a lesser extent Mikasa, have had an effect. One that is both obvious and subtle. Rias still wants to win rating games, of course, but that has become tangential. A byproduct of what she sees as her true dream. From the beginning, being free to live as 'Rias' is a central theme of her character, and aiding her friends in having that same freedom, along with herself, I feel is a dream much more befitting her. Everything else will come with that purpose.
Part 3 is all about a turning point, a hinge on which the characters, the story, and the world change. Not necessarily the source but the result. This chapter, plus the next three planned, are some of the most exciting I've been to write.
I will be waiting for you all next week on the bench.
Thanks for the chapter. This just doesn't miss. For me anyways.
Roles
"Why?"
Eren stirred from his nap, his head leaving Kuroka's shoulder to sit up straight on the bench. He had been awake for a few minutes, just laying there lazily. Otherwise, she would have let him rest longer.
With summer drawing to a close soon, and with it the return of the Shirone's Peerage, Kuroka could no longer delay the question. One that she thought could go without asking but continued to torment her as the days passed.
"Why what?"
"Why'd you leave, nyaa?"
"... I told you. I found this bench when I checked on Shirone."
"I don't mean why did you stay here, nyaa," Kuroka clarified, hand running through his long hair. "I understand that your powers... I understand wanting some peace. But why did you not tell us where you were?"
Why hadn't he told her?
Throughout the entire summer, Kuroka had repeatedly asked herself the question.
Early on, when he had first disappeared, she had entertained the possibility that Eren had decided to betray both the Brigade and her, abandoning them as his 'death' drew closer. She had feared he had gone off to die alone in some forgotten corner of the world.
Vali telling her of Eren's location and his continued commitment to his promises had put that fear to rest for the most part.
Then, a more worrying and personal reason had come to mind.
Had it been her that was the problem?
Kuroka knew what type of woman she was and had no desire to change that, but there was always niggling doubt in everyone's mind when with someone you love.
Am I the problem? Am I being too pushy with my desires? Has this relationship become one-sided? Does he not care about me like I care about him?
Even though she knew that to be false, Kuroka couldn't help the fear she felt.
The last few weeks had largely put those fears to rest as well.
Eren still remained the same man he had always been with her. Hesitant to show physical affection, but not put off by it so long as it didn't become smothering.
If anything, Eren had become even more open with Kuroka now that he didn't have to worry about continually reliving their interactions every moment, past and future.
So, why then had he left?
"I wasn't needed anymore," Eren shrugged. A casual gesture that, if Kuroka didn't know him so well, would have fooled her. "All the factions had been cowed. I left instructions for those that needed them, and it was just a matter of waiting till the world and other pieces of the plan would fall into place without my involvement."
His voice and the slight tremble in his spirit gave it away.
The subtle undercurrent of hesitancy and... shame?
He was lying to her.
Why?
Eren never lied to her. He wouldn't talk about specific topics, but he never lied.
Not to her.
So why now?
"That's why you didn't tell our mooks," Kuroka pointed out with a pout. "You could have told me or Vali, nyaa."
Eren remained stubbornly, infuriatingly, silent.
"You were always planning on leaving," Kuroka pressed. "That's how your powers work. While this bench might be a blind spot, you would know there was a hole in your memory, even if you didn't know where. From the first day we met, you knew you'd leave. Just like you knew I'd make your cane."
"I... did," Eren nodded hesitantly.
"And, nyaat once, did you think of telling me you'd leave for over a year?"
There was heat in her voice, Kuroka realized. One she hadn't intended to let slip.
It had just boiled out.
A year of worry, of fear, of feeling betrayed.
For an instant of clarity, Kuroka suddenly realized this was a tiny fraction of what Shirone must have felt.
Had that been Eren's goal? To give Kuroka a fraction of the pain her sister had felt? Was this a necessary part of the promise to have them reunited?
As always, knowing what was planned and what was coincidence was impossible with Eren, even if his powers were now limited.
"Why, huh," Eren grunted, fists clenching. "I've been asking myself that a lot lately. Why? I know what will happen. I know the cause, the effect. I know the Path. But why do I walk it?"
"You aren't answering my question," Kuroka scowled. "You didn't have to tell me where you were. I just needed to know you were alive. So why didn't you?"
"Why do I do a lot of things," Eren asked himself rhetorically, looking forlorn. Listless. "I never had this problem before, you know? I always knew why. For every single step I took, every terrible deed and evil I committed, I knew why. I was certain of it. Now..."
"Stop running away from the question!"
"...unning away."
"Nyaa?"
"I was running away!" The Titan snapped, hands tightening around his cane. "You want to know why? So do I! But I don't! So I ran!"
"Nyaa!?" Kuroka flinched at the outburst.
"I want to know why!" Eren's cane slammed into the ground with enough force to shake the bench. "Why am I here? Why was I reborn in this world? Why do I still have this damn power? Why have I done all this? Why will I..."
Eren didn't finish the question, shaking his head frantically, face set in a snarl of frustration.
"You want to know why I left you? Because I gave up. I've done everything! Everything! All that's left is the final step. And I don't know why yet!"
Eren gripped his head, hands tightening in his hair in frustration.
"I know there's a reason. There has to be a reason. This bench only blocks one part of my power, not the one that lets me know my own memories. What I know will definitely happen. The only reason I can't see them is because I am preventing myself from seeing them. I know knowing it ahead of time will prevent me from reaching that future. But why is that terrible future something I want? Why have I done all this? Will do it, have done it, am doing it? GAH!! I don't even know anymore!!"
"But," Kuroka hesitated, unsure what to do in this situation. Eren had never snapped at her like this. He looked... confused. Frustrated. Angry. Ashamed. "Haven't you already lived it, nyaa?"
"I have!" Eren growled from clenched teeth. "I know I can't change the future I've lived. I tried. I tried so hard last time. But I can't. But I promised myself, from that first moment in the Path, that I won't do it until I know why!"
Eren's fist slammed into the arm of the bench in his anger. Unenhanced by Touki, it was the arm of a regular human, his flesh split on the metal, blood flowing.
He hit the bench again.
"So I set everything up to work without me and left. I left to look for this damn bench! And I wasn't going to come back. You, Vali, my plans, my promises, all of it. I ran away. I was going to leave it behind! All for this damn bench. I will not leave it until I know why!"
Kuroka had never seen her lover so angry. So passionate.
So... scared.
He had used violence and rage before to cow devils, dragons, and all sorts of monsters to his cause. But it was all chaneled. Limited.
Not like this.
This was why he had lied.
He was ashamed of his weakness.
Eren dropped his cane. The wood clattered, and Kuroka flinched again at the sound.
Turning in his seat, he seized Kuroka's shoulders tightly and looked at her directly, blood staining her kimono.
She couldn't see them clearly, but his bandages had loosened slightly when he had grabbed his head, and she could see his eyes.
Kuroka didn't want to see his eyes. Not now, not like this.
Not as they stared at her in confusion, anger, horror, and shame.
Not with the wet tracks that lined his cheeks or the way his mouth was contorted into a grimace of extreme grief.
Her Senjustu and the connection they shared told her what the face meant.
It was rage.
It was fear.
It was hatred.
It was guilt.
It was a self-loathing so deep that it had Kuroka seeing stars.
"Why am I doing this?" Eren begged for an answer. One Kuroka didn't have. "I don't know why I exist. Why I am here. What am I always the one who has to do these terrible things? What I'll do, it's worse than the Rumbling. What I will inflict on this world is the worst fate I can imagine. So why, dammit!? Why was I smiling?"
The rage left. Eren sagged, still holding Kuroka's shoulders, and he collapsed against her chest.
"Why? Why am I doing this to this world," Eren cried. "You don't deserve this. They don't deserve this. So why am I always the one who has to do these things? Am I really just the Devil?"
He sat there, pouring his emotions out on a bloody and wet kimono.
Awkwardly, Kuroka held him.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't know what to say.
Kuroka didn't know what the 'Rumbling' was.
Kuroka didn't know why Eren's plan was so bad in his eyes. To her, it was a great plan.
Kuroka didn't know why Eren was struggling so much with this now, so close to the end.
Kuroka didn't know so much.
But she thought she knew Eren Yeager.
Now, Kuroka realized, she had only known a part of him.
As long as she had known Eren Yeager, he had never been... this.
This sobbing wreck of a man.
For the first time since they had met so many years ago, Eren Yeager resembled and acted like the young boy she knew he must have been at one point.
Kuroka had a second realization.
This was what Eren had always been.
For the first few years they had known each other, Kuroka had thought Eren to be an emotionless machine. An automaton is marching forward towards a single goal without caring who he trampled over to get there.
There was some truth to that, as Eren did not shy away from violence in the least.
But that wasn't who Eren Yeager truly was.
Kuroka had thought she understood his burden. She had been the only one he had told the true extent of his power, and she had thought she understood the price of that power.
She had been wrong.
Kuroka was confident she was the only one who could see the truth. She was the only one who had seen Erin at the peak of his power, and now, when he was little more of a threat than a regular Ultimate class devil.
She only saw who Eren truly was by seeing him when he was at his most powerless. His most weak and pathetic.
Eren was just a man.
He was just human.
He had an extraordinary power, which she knew for sure, but Eren himself?
He was no genius, someone with an inviolate willpower, or even a great general.
He was just a boy who gained power and sought to create a world in the only way he knew how: through violence.
It was such a revelation to Kuroka.
Eren was... human.
Not a Yokai. Not a devil, angel, or fallen. Not a god or a hero.
Eren was just a man.
More than that, Eren was a man of emotions. A man of rage, sorrow, yearning, and regret.
Kuroka had seen the darker emotions, the rage and fury before. He had used it to bend some of the most powerful beings in the world to his will.
But Kuroka had thought it had just been another part of the plan, a calculated outburst.
After all, he never showed any other emotions.
But she had mistaken the cause and effect.
Eren hadn't allowed himself to feel any other emotion, to express any of the deeper currents that twirled within him, because if he did it once, he would always be living that moment, constantly feeling that collapse of will.
If he allowed himself to reach his lowest point, he'd always be at that lowest point.
And he wouldn't be able to walk forward if he was always at his lowest point.
Eren Yeager needed to walk forward.
Even if he didn't know why.
So Kuroka held her lover close for long minutes as he regained his center.
He must have been holding it in for years.
Eren broke the silence first, pulling away from her to collapse bonelessly against the bench.
"Sorry."
"For what, nyaa?"
"That I am using you."
The voice, so familiar in its lack of emotions, hurt Kuroka's heart just as much as the tears.
"I know." Kuroka's voice was soft and full of love. "You told me."
That first day they had met, when Eren had extended a hand to her, he had said as much. Warned her that he'd use her.
"I am using you too."
Kuroka had laughed and warned him she would use him in turn.
A tool to escape her pursuers, a defender against those hunting Black Cat Kuroka and a tool to reunite her with Shirone.
They had used each other. They were still using each other.
Kuroka thought she understood the exchange when they first made the deal.
She hadn't.
She, after all, couldn't see the future.
Kuroka had realized how deeply Eren had used her only years later when it had been too late. When the shackles of love had been placed tight around her wrists and neck.
Yet Kuroka also realized that... she was alright with that.
Kuroka was different from Eren Yeager.
She'd give up freedom for love.
It had been Kuroka who had offered to use Bouchujutsu to reinforce his flagging life force, trying to buy him more time. Eren had never asked her to, had told her it wouldn't heal him, but it had been Kuroka's choice.
That had been the important part.
Eren knew she would make the offer, though he never asked. He had always known she would come to him that night.
He had known he would accept and what would come of it.
He had seen, lived through, and remembered her offer, her touch, long before they had ever met.
It was probably one of the reasons he had sought her out.
Eren was manipulating her. Kuroka knew that before she offered herself to the man.
Love and an almost fatalistic resignation had compelled her.
Eren could see her choices, but he couldn't make them for her.
What happened when they became one, when Kuroka shared her power, body, and heart with Eren, solidified Kuroka's feelings.
Kuroka had not managed to heal him, just as he knew she wouldn't, but she did connect to Eren through their mingling of Ki. Bouchujutsu was the mingling of Ki, of lifeforce.
When two masters of Senjutsu joined in such a way, it went well beyond the physical.
For that instant, their lives had been one, and she'd seen what he saw.
The Path.
That place where time passed infinitely in an instant.
Eren experienced every moment of his life all at once, but the Path was different.
In that space of towering dunes and blue light, with its lonely tree without branches, things happened as they should, one after another.
And Kuroka had been there with him for so, so long.
She didn't know what they talked about or what they did there. They might have already had this conversation already, and she had forgotten. Maybe lifetimes of conversations and moments.
Maybe Eren had told her he would leave to find this bench, to find out why he was in this world. Maybe Eren had talked about his past, dreams, fears, and love.
Maybe they hadn't talked at all, just sitting together for countless years that passed in an instant.
It was hazy, half-remembered, like a fever dream. There was too much there and too little. Kuroka could only hold on to an impression, a foggy dream, because she was not part of the Path. Not really.
A guest, but she was not part of that world.
It was not her Path.
But the impression of that place had seared itself into her soul.
"It doesn't make it right," Eren grunted, his voice dead of any inflection, even as he drowned himself in self-hatred. "But I did it anyway. Because I needed people to die for me! Again!"
"We knew what we were getting into, nyaa," Kuroka argued back passionately, tails waving in a frenzy. "We all did. You never lied to us about that."
"Again and again," Eren repeated, staring blankly skyward. "More children for my wars. More blood at my feet. More corpses for the road."
"They know they are dying for something, something they believe in. And you gave them something no one else has. Confirmation of success. They can die for you because they know the Titan will bring their dream to life."
Despite her words, Eren still lay there. Like he was empty.
But he wasn't.
That was the problem.
Eren cared.
He tried not to. Tried to keep himself distant and aloof. Tried to wrap himself in apathy.
But Eren wasn't a man who could be detached from emotion.
He cared deeply. About her. About Vali.
About those whom he was leading into damnation.
Not equally.
The subordinates he never met knew were needles in his heart. The comrades he saw every day were arrows of guilt. Vali and his team were swords piercing his chest.
Kuroka?
Eren cared for her more than anyone else in this new life, at least at the time of their joining. Kuroka remembered feeling that clearly in the Path.
It was the care, the love, of a mortal man.
One who had lived an entire lifetime, short as it was, with Kuroka before she had ever met him.
Every second he lived, Eren felt Kuroka's touch. Every moment, he heard her whispers of love well before she uttered them.
He manipulated her, choosing the end goal and leading them both towards it.
That didn't mean he didn't feel every step.
For the same reason, he could not talk about the past, for he would constantly relive the pain, and so too had Eren always cared about her.
Because he had seen their every moment together, he had lived it for every second of his life.
Eren loved her.
Kuroka had been a hundred percent sure of that in that moment of union. It had pervaded that Path so wholly that it might as well have been written in the stars.
It was what had made his disappearance so heartbreaking.
Kuroka didn't know exactly how long she spent in the Path, in the half second of connection, that first time.
All she knew was that it was long enough to gain a third tail.
It was easy to convince Eren that they needed to repeat the experience. He hadn't even argued against it. As Senjutsu users, they both gained power by the exchange and mixing of Ki.
The act itself felt wonderful. The connection, the feelings, all of it had been the most peaceful Kuroka had ever felt.
More than that, though, it had been necessary.
It turned Eren's already large reserves for a human into something that rivalled gods at his peak as he drew Ki from a supremely talented senjutsu user, refined it with endless practice, and used it as an arrow to pierce his enemies' necks.
Kuroka gaining more tails was also a boon, meaning Eren had a more helpful lieutenant. Her passing years in the Path, in an instant, turned a millennia-long process into something that lasted a heartbeat. She couldn't gain such power too often; most of her training was spent controlling the increase, but it turned millennia of effort into months.
And every time they joined, two masters of Bouchujutsu, they grew in power by magnitudes.
Without that power, without each other, they would not have been able to reign in some of the absolute monsters that now worked with the Brigade. There was no way those bastards would have followed a human unless under threat.
But the cost had been steep, Kuroka had realized.
That had been why the future Eren desired had Kuroka in it. He had needed her power. To get that power, he needed to be with her. If he was with her, Eren would come to care.
A vicious cycle, one where Eren manipulated himself as much as everyone else.
Which had come first, she had wondered.
Had Eren decided the goal and then fallen in love?
Or had he fallen in love and chosen a future where they'd be together?
Or had both happened simultaneously, an instant and a lifetime.
Did it matter?
Not to Kuroka.
Eren had come to care for the woman he was supposed to manipulate.
He was only human, after all.
Kuroka never spoke of the truth of her revelations. She never would. For if she spoke it in any timeline Eren looked at, there was a possibility he would know.
Know what she felt when they joined. When her soul and life mixed with his.
And if he knew, he'd know she would never let him die.
"This world, it's terrible," Kuroka tried to reassure him. "So many are mocked, used, thrown away, enslaved, and killed because they don't have power. This world is hell to the weak. You will change that. They die for you, not because you are manipulating them. They know their fate, just like I know it. You told us. They die for you because you give them hope for a world that isn't hell."
"Hell?" Eren tasted the word as if never having heard it before. Then he shook his head as he spoke slowly. "You're wrong. This world isn't hell. It's terrible, but it isn't hell. The world I'll make will be hell. I know that. I know what I have to do. Because I am remaking my world. My hell! I've become the exact person I hate the most, and I don't even know why!"
Eren gripped his head with both hands again, doubling over as if trying to tear thoughts from his head.
He was shaking.
In rage, in hatred, in sorrow, or in fear, Kuroka didn't know.
"Do I die?"
Eren froze. His shaking stopped, but his head remained bowed.
"No."
"Does Shirone?"
"...I don't know. I can't see her."
"If I am alive, Shinronyaa won't die," Kuroka stated. It was a fact. So long as she lived, her sister would too. Then her voice softened, and she hesitated. "But you can only see until you... until the end, right?"
"Yes. I am the only one on the Path. Nobody has come before or will come after."
"So you don't know what will happen after you... after you die." The words tasted like ash in her mouth.
"I do. Because I know people. People repeat the same mistakes. Over and over. There is no escaping it," Eren denied, sitting back up and facing the reincarnated devil. "Even after I die, I know what will happen. I've seen it in my world. And the people of this world are no different. Race doesn't matter. People are the same everywhere. What I am going to do... The world that I will build... I've seen it all before. I've lived in that hell. I just don't know why I am doing it all again."
Kuroka heard the hatred in Eren's voice as he spoke of his home dimension.
"...Is this the 'Rumbling' you mentioned, nyaa?" Kuroka asked hesitantly.
Eren didn't answer.
"If you've seen this before, tell me why it happened there. Maybe the reason is the same."
"The reasons aren't the same," Eren denied instantly, his voice once more detached. He was vacillating, Kuroka realized. Between extremes of emotions and apathy. Trying to come to terms. "I don't hate the people here. Everything that happened in my world was caused by love and hatred. And I don't hate this world enough. I don't hate the people here. They've never done anything to me."
"What about the devils," Kuroka prodded.
She knew Eren held a hatred for the Peerage system and how it allowed devils to force people into what was essentially eternal slavery.
Her own experiences were bad enough that she had no problem when he had directed his ire towards the High-class devils in the Brigade.
"I... thought I did," Eren said hesitantly, hands tightening into fists. "Not all devils." Kuroka hoped not since she was one herself, as was Vali. "But devil Kings? Those that enslave others for power and entertainment? I hated them. Still hate them. What they do is disgusting. I have no problem killing a bunch of devils like that. But everyone else? They don't deserve to die like that, not because of a few animals. And... I am not even sure that hatred is enough anymore."
Kuroka didn't doubt Eren's disgust for devil Kings. The Old Satan faction had been Eren's favourite part of the Brigaid to use as examples whenever he needed to put the fear of the Titan in newbies.
It was hilarious to see those hoity-toity 'noble' devils chafe under his control, act out, and get crushed by a 'lowly human.' But now wasn't time for justified schadenfreude.
Eren was lost. Confused. Hurt.
"What changed," Kuroka asked gently.
"Since I've been here," Eren hesitated, speaking slowly as he tried to put his thoughts back together. "On this bench, even that reason, that hatred, isn't enough to answer why. I haven't found the answer, just more reasons to ask why."
"What changed, nyaa?"
"I realized I was making the same mistake as last time," Eren sighed, weariness all that was left in him as he slumped back against the bench. "I thought I wasn't, but I was. I was hating them for what they were, not who they were. I still hate most Kings of Peerages. Or at least, most I've met," Eren clarified.
Then he paused, reaching down for his cane where it had fallen.
"But... there are kind devils too," he said softly, drawing the first few inches of the blade. "Those with dreams or who give their Peerage a choice. And I can't hate people like that."
It was with a voice void of any will to live that Eren spoke his following words.
"You. Them. Everyone in this world. I can't hate everyone, not like I used to. So why am I here? You all would be better off if I wasn't here."
"Don't say that!" Kuroka snapped. Eren went to speak, but she cut him off. "You can only see what you are involved in. You have no idea if things would be better or worse without you. Whether I would even still be here!"
"You're right," Eren nodded slowly. "I can't see that. But after what I do-"
"What we do, nyaa," Kuroka cut him off. "I've been with you this entire time. I'll be with you to the end. You don't get to take all the blame."
More than anything else she had said, more than any sort of reassurance or appeal to logic, those words shut Eren up.
Which was good because Kuroka wasn't done.
"I don't get it, nyaa," the Nekoshou hissed angrily. It was her turn to be shaking Eren by the shoulders now. "I don't get any of this. I'm trying to understand. I thought I did, but I don't. I don't understand why what we will do is worse than what we've already done. I don't know why you are here or why you are smiling at the end. I don't know why you couldn't send a message for over a year!"
As she shook him, the bandages covering his face finally gave up the ghost and fell to the bench, exposing the deep groves under his eyes. The marks that meant he had to cover his face wherever he went or risk being identified by anyone looking for him.
How many times had Kuroka gently rubbed her hands over those marks, marvelling at the ridges and holes and the power they represented?
Too many to count.
But it was never the shifter marks that held her full attention.
Eren looked up at Kuroka, gray eyes showing more emotion than she had ever seen in them.
Those eyes froze Kuroka's tirade on her lips.
For a second, they stared at each other, really seeing each other for the first time in their lives.
A pathetic man. Lost, confused and angry. One who'd destroy a world for revenge so his friends would live long, happy lives.
A monstrous woman. Loving, hedonistic, and angry. One who'd crush the world for her sister and those she loved.
Kuroka's voice was much softer as she finished her declaration.
"I don't know why you were reborn in this world." Kuroka still had her hands on Eren's shoulders, fingers digging in. As if she could hold on forever. "All I know is that no matter the reason, I am glad you were reborn."
"You don't understand," Eren shook his head slowly. "You can't understand. The fear and shame-"
"Get it through your thick skull, nyaa!" Kuroka interrupted Eren again, physically shaking him as the anger returned. "I am not trying to understand. Not now. You're smiling in the end, right? Then you'll know why, and I will, too. Until then, I don't care, nyaa!"
She kissed him. Hard. Hard enough that his lips would bruise.
Then she pulled back, revelling in the surprise in his eyes. The first time she had ever seen that look on him.
"You've been gone for over a year. You ran away. Fine, I'll accept such a lame excuse, nyaa. I always knew you had your moments of suicidal idiocy. But I cannot accept you saying you shouldn't have been born."
"I didn't say that," Eren said, seizing Kuroka's wrists and glaring at her. There it was. The fire. The passion. The will. The hard-headed stubbornness that had broken the backs of the worst this world had to offer over his titanic knee. "I never regretted being born. I just want to know why? Why was I reborn, and why me? Why have I become exactly what I've always hated?"
"I don't care why, nyaa!" Kuroka hissed, throwing her considerable strength against Eren's. All she managed to do was reposition herself till she was sitting on his lap, glaring down at him with fierce eyes as her tails swirled in a frenzy behind her. "You don't know why you were born? None of us do! So I don't care. All I care about is this. This moment. You and me. Right here and now."
"Why?"
So much in such a short question, asked by a man as lost as everyone else about the future.
Why can't you understand? Why won't you understand?
Why can you ignore this problem, this question about my existence?
Why, after everything I've done and will do, are you still with me?
Why do you still care?
"Because I love you," Kuroka said softly. "Idiot."
Kuroka kissed him again, taking great pleasure in the way Eren's eyes widened in surprise once more.
It was a shame that his connection to the Path was inhibited. Otherwise, Kuroka might have gained her seventh tail that summer evening on the bench.
********
While the enormous power of the mix of the Founder and Attack Titan does give an excellent opportunity for visually dramatic conflicts, I have always been more interested in how it affects the characters. How does one deal with seeing everything, living every moment in a life all at once? At every moment, you are living your worst and best moments. You are feeling the most significant pain and most incredible pleasure every second of your existence.
That's gonna mess a guy up. We see hints of it at the end of AOT, but there simply isn't room for exploring it.
Imagine knowing your husband/wife for decades before even meeting them. Do you love them more or less? What about enemies? You know someone is an enemy who will hurt you before they even know you exist. Does that affect your decisions? Are you the one that makes them an enemy? Are you the one that makes someone your lover?
It's such an interesting premise that I haven't really seen explored deeply. The closest is Dr. Manhattan in the original Watchman, and he is categorically not a base human, unlike Eren and Ymir before they gained their power. If one is a complete sociopath or an unfeeling machine, it doesn't matter, but despite the actions they take, both Eren and Ymir are shown to care and love people.
I've rambled a bit, but my point is that Eren is not an absolute type character. Just as the DxD cast is growing by knowing him, so is he growing by knowing them. In a way he couldn't do in AOT because of how it ended.
I've made no secret that On The Bench is a way of coming to terms with the end of Attack on Titan, both for the characters and me as an author. I've never stated one way or the other whether I like the ending because it doesn't matter for this story. It's the ending we received. And we must come to terms with it, whether we like it or not.
Fanfiction is terrific for allowing us to explore 'what ifs,' AUs, or alternate scenarios, but it can never escape the original work. Then it's not fanfiction anymore, but a whole new story.
I will meet you all next week on the bench.
Eren stirred from his nap, his head leaving Kuroka's shoulder to sit up straight on the bench. He had been awake for a few minutes, just laying there lazily. Otherwise, she would have let him rest longer.
With summer drawing to a close soon, and with it the return of the Shirone's Peerage, Kuroka could no longer delay the question. One that she thought could go without asking but continued to torment her as the days passed.
"Why what?"
"Why'd you leave, nyaa?"
"... I told you. I found this bench when I checked on Shirone."
"I don't mean why did you stay here, nyaa," Kuroka clarified, hand running through his long hair. "I understand that your powers... I understand wanting some peace. But why did you not tell us where you were?"
Why hadn't he told her?
Throughout the entire summer, Kuroka had repeatedly asked herself the question.
Early on, when he had first disappeared, she had entertained the possibility that Eren had decided to betray both the Brigade and her, abandoning them as his 'death' drew closer. She had feared he had gone off to die alone in some forgotten corner of the world.
Vali telling her of Eren's location and his continued commitment to his promises had put that fear to rest for the most part.
Then, a more worrying and personal reason had come to mind.
Had it been her that was the problem?
Kuroka knew what type of woman she was and had no desire to change that, but there was always niggling doubt in everyone's mind when with someone you love.
Am I the problem? Am I being too pushy with my desires? Has this relationship become one-sided? Does he not care about me like I care about him?
Even though she knew that to be false, Kuroka couldn't help the fear she felt.
The last few weeks had largely put those fears to rest as well.
Eren still remained the same man he had always been with her. Hesitant to show physical affection, but not put off by it so long as it didn't become smothering.
If anything, Eren had become even more open with Kuroka now that he didn't have to worry about continually reliving their interactions every moment, past and future.
So, why then had he left?
"I wasn't needed anymore," Eren shrugged. A casual gesture that, if Kuroka didn't know him so well, would have fooled her. "All the factions had been cowed. I left instructions for those that needed them, and it was just a matter of waiting till the world and other pieces of the plan would fall into place without my involvement."
His voice and the slight tremble in his spirit gave it away.
The subtle undercurrent of hesitancy and... shame?
He was lying to her.
Why?
Eren never lied to her. He wouldn't talk about specific topics, but he never lied.
Not to her.
So why now?
"That's why you didn't tell our mooks," Kuroka pointed out with a pout. "You could have told me or Vali, nyaa."
Eren remained stubbornly, infuriatingly, silent.
"You were always planning on leaving," Kuroka pressed. "That's how your powers work. While this bench might be a blind spot, you would know there was a hole in your memory, even if you didn't know where. From the first day we met, you knew you'd leave. Just like you knew I'd make your cane."
"I... did," Eren nodded hesitantly.
"And, nyaat once, did you think of telling me you'd leave for over a year?"
There was heat in her voice, Kuroka realized. One she hadn't intended to let slip.
It had just boiled out.
A year of worry, of fear, of feeling betrayed.
For an instant of clarity, Kuroka suddenly realized this was a tiny fraction of what Shirone must have felt.
Had that been Eren's goal? To give Kuroka a fraction of the pain her sister had felt? Was this a necessary part of the promise to have them reunited?
As always, knowing what was planned and what was coincidence was impossible with Eren, even if his powers were now limited.
"Why, huh," Eren grunted, fists clenching. "I've been asking myself that a lot lately. Why? I know what will happen. I know the cause, the effect. I know the Path. But why do I walk it?"
"You aren't answering my question," Kuroka scowled. "You didn't have to tell me where you were. I just needed to know you were alive. So why didn't you?"
"Why do I do a lot of things," Eren asked himself rhetorically, looking forlorn. Listless. "I never had this problem before, you know? I always knew why. For every single step I took, every terrible deed and evil I committed, I knew why. I was certain of it. Now..."
"Stop running away from the question!"
"...unning away."
"Nyaa?"
"I was running away!" The Titan snapped, hands tightening around his cane. "You want to know why? So do I! But I don't! So I ran!"
"Nyaa!?" Kuroka flinched at the outburst.
"I want to know why!" Eren's cane slammed into the ground with enough force to shake the bench. "Why am I here? Why was I reborn in this world? Why do I still have this damn power? Why have I done all this? Why will I..."
Eren didn't finish the question, shaking his head frantically, face set in a snarl of frustration.
"You want to know why I left you? Because I gave up. I've done everything! Everything! All that's left is the final step. And I don't know why yet!"
Eren gripped his head, hands tightening in his hair in frustration.
"I know there's a reason. There has to be a reason. This bench only blocks one part of my power, not the one that lets me know my own memories. What I know will definitely happen. The only reason I can't see them is because I am preventing myself from seeing them. I know knowing it ahead of time will prevent me from reaching that future. But why is that terrible future something I want? Why have I done all this? Will do it, have done it, am doing it? GAH!! I don't even know anymore!!"
"But," Kuroka hesitated, unsure what to do in this situation. Eren had never snapped at her like this. He looked... confused. Frustrated. Angry. Ashamed. "Haven't you already lived it, nyaa?"
"I have!" Eren growled from clenched teeth. "I know I can't change the future I've lived. I tried. I tried so hard last time. But I can't. But I promised myself, from that first moment in the Path, that I won't do it until I know why!"
Eren's fist slammed into the arm of the bench in his anger. Unenhanced by Touki, it was the arm of a regular human, his flesh split on the metal, blood flowing.
He hit the bench again.
"So I set everything up to work without me and left. I left to look for this damn bench! And I wasn't going to come back. You, Vali, my plans, my promises, all of it. I ran away. I was going to leave it behind! All for this damn bench. I will not leave it until I know why!"
Kuroka had never seen her lover so angry. So passionate.
So... scared.
He had used violence and rage before to cow devils, dragons, and all sorts of monsters to his cause. But it was all chaneled. Limited.
Not like this.
This was why he had lied.
He was ashamed of his weakness.
Eren dropped his cane. The wood clattered, and Kuroka flinched again at the sound.
Turning in his seat, he seized Kuroka's shoulders tightly and looked at her directly, blood staining her kimono.
She couldn't see them clearly, but his bandages had loosened slightly when he had grabbed his head, and she could see his eyes.
Kuroka didn't want to see his eyes. Not now, not like this.
Not as they stared at her in confusion, anger, horror, and shame.
Not with the wet tracks that lined his cheeks or the way his mouth was contorted into a grimace of extreme grief.
Her Senjustu and the connection they shared told her what the face meant.
It was rage.
It was fear.
It was hatred.
It was guilt.
It was a self-loathing so deep that it had Kuroka seeing stars.
"Why am I doing this?" Eren begged for an answer. One Kuroka didn't have. "I don't know why I exist. Why I am here. What am I always the one who has to do these terrible things? What I'll do, it's worse than the Rumbling. What I will inflict on this world is the worst fate I can imagine. So why, dammit!? Why was I smiling?"
The rage left. Eren sagged, still holding Kuroka's shoulders, and he collapsed against her chest.
"Why? Why am I doing this to this world," Eren cried. "You don't deserve this. They don't deserve this. So why am I always the one who has to do these things? Am I really just the Devil?"
He sat there, pouring his emotions out on a bloody and wet kimono.
Awkwardly, Kuroka held him.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't know what to say.
Kuroka didn't know what the 'Rumbling' was.
Kuroka didn't know why Eren's plan was so bad in his eyes. To her, it was a great plan.
Kuroka didn't know why Eren was struggling so much with this now, so close to the end.
Kuroka didn't know so much.
But she thought she knew Eren Yeager.
Now, Kuroka realized, she had only known a part of him.
As long as she had known Eren Yeager, he had never been... this.
This sobbing wreck of a man.
For the first time since they had met so many years ago, Eren Yeager resembled and acted like the young boy she knew he must have been at one point.
Kuroka had a second realization.
This was what Eren had always been.
For the first few years they had known each other, Kuroka had thought Eren to be an emotionless machine. An automaton is marching forward towards a single goal without caring who he trampled over to get there.
There was some truth to that, as Eren did not shy away from violence in the least.
But that wasn't who Eren Yeager truly was.
Kuroka had thought she understood his burden. She had been the only one he had told the true extent of his power, and she had thought she understood the price of that power.
She had been wrong.
Kuroka was confident she was the only one who could see the truth. She was the only one who had seen Erin at the peak of his power, and now, when he was little more of a threat than a regular Ultimate class devil.
She only saw who Eren truly was by seeing him when he was at his most powerless. His most weak and pathetic.
Eren was just a man.
He was just human.
He had an extraordinary power, which she knew for sure, but Eren himself?
He was no genius, someone with an inviolate willpower, or even a great general.
He was just a boy who gained power and sought to create a world in the only way he knew how: through violence.
It was such a revelation to Kuroka.
Eren was... human.
Not a Yokai. Not a devil, angel, or fallen. Not a god or a hero.
Eren was just a man.
More than that, Eren was a man of emotions. A man of rage, sorrow, yearning, and regret.
Kuroka had seen the darker emotions, the rage and fury before. He had used it to bend some of the most powerful beings in the world to his will.
But Kuroka had thought it had just been another part of the plan, a calculated outburst.
After all, he never showed any other emotions.
But she had mistaken the cause and effect.
Eren hadn't allowed himself to feel any other emotion, to express any of the deeper currents that twirled within him, because if he did it once, he would always be living that moment, constantly feeling that collapse of will.
If he allowed himself to reach his lowest point, he'd always be at that lowest point.
And he wouldn't be able to walk forward if he was always at his lowest point.
Eren Yeager needed to walk forward.
Even if he didn't know why.
So Kuroka held her lover close for long minutes as he regained his center.
He must have been holding it in for years.
Eren broke the silence first, pulling away from her to collapse bonelessly against the bench.
"Sorry."
"For what, nyaa?"
"That I am using you."
The voice, so familiar in its lack of emotions, hurt Kuroka's heart just as much as the tears.
"I know." Kuroka's voice was soft and full of love. "You told me."
That first day they had met, when Eren had extended a hand to her, he had said as much. Warned her that he'd use her.
"I am using you too."
Kuroka had laughed and warned him she would use him in turn.
A tool to escape her pursuers, a defender against those hunting Black Cat Kuroka and a tool to reunite her with Shirone.
They had used each other. They were still using each other.
Kuroka thought she understood the exchange when they first made the deal.
She hadn't.
She, after all, couldn't see the future.
Kuroka had realized how deeply Eren had used her only years later when it had been too late. When the shackles of love had been placed tight around her wrists and neck.
Yet Kuroka also realized that... she was alright with that.
Kuroka was different from Eren Yeager.
She'd give up freedom for love.
It had been Kuroka who had offered to use Bouchujutsu to reinforce his flagging life force, trying to buy him more time. Eren had never asked her to, had told her it wouldn't heal him, but it had been Kuroka's choice.
That had been the important part.
Eren knew she would make the offer, though he never asked. He had always known she would come to him that night.
He had known he would accept and what would come of it.
He had seen, lived through, and remembered her offer, her touch, long before they had ever met.
It was probably one of the reasons he had sought her out.
Eren was manipulating her. Kuroka knew that before she offered herself to the man.
Love and an almost fatalistic resignation had compelled her.
Eren could see her choices, but he couldn't make them for her.
What happened when they became one, when Kuroka shared her power, body, and heart with Eren, solidified Kuroka's feelings.
Kuroka had not managed to heal him, just as he knew she wouldn't, but she did connect to Eren through their mingling of Ki. Bouchujutsu was the mingling of Ki, of lifeforce.
When two masters of Senjutsu joined in such a way, it went well beyond the physical.
For that instant, their lives had been one, and she'd seen what he saw.
The Path.
That place where time passed infinitely in an instant.
Eren experienced every moment of his life all at once, but the Path was different.
In that space of towering dunes and blue light, with its lonely tree without branches, things happened as they should, one after another.
And Kuroka had been there with him for so, so long.
She didn't know what they talked about or what they did there. They might have already had this conversation already, and she had forgotten. Maybe lifetimes of conversations and moments.
Maybe Eren had told her he would leave to find this bench, to find out why he was in this world. Maybe Eren had talked about his past, dreams, fears, and love.
Maybe they hadn't talked at all, just sitting together for countless years that passed in an instant.
It was hazy, half-remembered, like a fever dream. There was too much there and too little. Kuroka could only hold on to an impression, a foggy dream, because she was not part of the Path. Not really.
A guest, but she was not part of that world.
It was not her Path.
But the impression of that place had seared itself into her soul.
"It doesn't make it right," Eren grunted, his voice dead of any inflection, even as he drowned himself in self-hatred. "But I did it anyway. Because I needed people to die for me! Again!"
"We knew what we were getting into, nyaa," Kuroka argued back passionately, tails waving in a frenzy. "We all did. You never lied to us about that."
"Again and again," Eren repeated, staring blankly skyward. "More children for my wars. More blood at my feet. More corpses for the road."
"They know they are dying for something, something they believe in. And you gave them something no one else has. Confirmation of success. They can die for you because they know the Titan will bring their dream to life."
Despite her words, Eren still lay there. Like he was empty.
But he wasn't.
That was the problem.
Eren cared.
He tried not to. Tried to keep himself distant and aloof. Tried to wrap himself in apathy.
But Eren wasn't a man who could be detached from emotion.
He cared deeply. About her. About Vali.
About those whom he was leading into damnation.
Not equally.
The subordinates he never met knew were needles in his heart. The comrades he saw every day were arrows of guilt. Vali and his team were swords piercing his chest.
Kuroka?
Eren cared for her more than anyone else in this new life, at least at the time of their joining. Kuroka remembered feeling that clearly in the Path.
It was the care, the love, of a mortal man.
One who had lived an entire lifetime, short as it was, with Kuroka before she had ever met him.
Every second he lived, Eren felt Kuroka's touch. Every moment, he heard her whispers of love well before she uttered them.
He manipulated her, choosing the end goal and leading them both towards it.
That didn't mean he didn't feel every step.
For the same reason, he could not talk about the past, for he would constantly relive the pain, and so too had Eren always cared about her.
Because he had seen their every moment together, he had lived it for every second of his life.
Eren loved her.
Kuroka had been a hundred percent sure of that in that moment of union. It had pervaded that Path so wholly that it might as well have been written in the stars.
It was what had made his disappearance so heartbreaking.
Kuroka didn't know exactly how long she spent in the Path, in the half second of connection, that first time.
All she knew was that it was long enough to gain a third tail.
It was easy to convince Eren that they needed to repeat the experience. He hadn't even argued against it. As Senjutsu users, they both gained power by the exchange and mixing of Ki.
The act itself felt wonderful. The connection, the feelings, all of it had been the most peaceful Kuroka had ever felt.
More than that, though, it had been necessary.
It turned Eren's already large reserves for a human into something that rivalled gods at his peak as he drew Ki from a supremely talented senjutsu user, refined it with endless practice, and used it as an arrow to pierce his enemies' necks.
Kuroka gaining more tails was also a boon, meaning Eren had a more helpful lieutenant. Her passing years in the Path, in an instant, turned a millennia-long process into something that lasted a heartbeat. She couldn't gain such power too often; most of her training was spent controlling the increase, but it turned millennia of effort into months.
And every time they joined, two masters of Bouchujutsu, they grew in power by magnitudes.
Without that power, without each other, they would not have been able to reign in some of the absolute monsters that now worked with the Brigade. There was no way those bastards would have followed a human unless under threat.
But the cost had been steep, Kuroka had realized.
That had been why the future Eren desired had Kuroka in it. He had needed her power. To get that power, he needed to be with her. If he was with her, Eren would come to care.
A vicious cycle, one where Eren manipulated himself as much as everyone else.
Which had come first, she had wondered.
Had Eren decided the goal and then fallen in love?
Or had he fallen in love and chosen a future where they'd be together?
Or had both happened simultaneously, an instant and a lifetime.
Did it matter?
Not to Kuroka.
Eren had come to care for the woman he was supposed to manipulate.
He was only human, after all.
Kuroka never spoke of the truth of her revelations. She never would. For if she spoke it in any timeline Eren looked at, there was a possibility he would know.
Know what she felt when they joined. When her soul and life mixed with his.
And if he knew, he'd know she would never let him die.
"This world, it's terrible," Kuroka tried to reassure him. "So many are mocked, used, thrown away, enslaved, and killed because they don't have power. This world is hell to the weak. You will change that. They die for you, not because you are manipulating them. They know their fate, just like I know it. You told us. They die for you because you give them hope for a world that isn't hell."
"Hell?" Eren tasted the word as if never having heard it before. Then he shook his head as he spoke slowly. "You're wrong. This world isn't hell. It's terrible, but it isn't hell. The world I'll make will be hell. I know that. I know what I have to do. Because I am remaking my world. My hell! I've become the exact person I hate the most, and I don't even know why!"
Eren gripped his head with both hands again, doubling over as if trying to tear thoughts from his head.
He was shaking.
In rage, in hatred, in sorrow, or in fear, Kuroka didn't know.
"Do I die?"
Eren froze. His shaking stopped, but his head remained bowed.
"No."
"Does Shirone?"
"...I don't know. I can't see her."
"If I am alive, Shinronyaa won't die," Kuroka stated. It was a fact. So long as she lived, her sister would too. Then her voice softened, and she hesitated. "But you can only see until you... until the end, right?"
"Yes. I am the only one on the Path. Nobody has come before or will come after."
"So you don't know what will happen after you... after you die." The words tasted like ash in her mouth.
"I do. Because I know people. People repeat the same mistakes. Over and over. There is no escaping it," Eren denied, sitting back up and facing the reincarnated devil. "Even after I die, I know what will happen. I've seen it in my world. And the people of this world are no different. Race doesn't matter. People are the same everywhere. What I am going to do... The world that I will build... I've seen it all before. I've lived in that hell. I just don't know why I am doing it all again."
Kuroka heard the hatred in Eren's voice as he spoke of his home dimension.
"...Is this the 'Rumbling' you mentioned, nyaa?" Kuroka asked hesitantly.
Eren didn't answer.
"If you've seen this before, tell me why it happened there. Maybe the reason is the same."
"The reasons aren't the same," Eren denied instantly, his voice once more detached. He was vacillating, Kuroka realized. Between extremes of emotions and apathy. Trying to come to terms. "I don't hate the people here. Everything that happened in my world was caused by love and hatred. And I don't hate this world enough. I don't hate the people here. They've never done anything to me."
"What about the devils," Kuroka prodded.
She knew Eren held a hatred for the Peerage system and how it allowed devils to force people into what was essentially eternal slavery.
Her own experiences were bad enough that she had no problem when he had directed his ire towards the High-class devils in the Brigade.
"I... thought I did," Eren said hesitantly, hands tightening into fists. "Not all devils." Kuroka hoped not since she was one herself, as was Vali. "But devil Kings? Those that enslave others for power and entertainment? I hated them. Still hate them. What they do is disgusting. I have no problem killing a bunch of devils like that. But everyone else? They don't deserve to die like that, not because of a few animals. And... I am not even sure that hatred is enough anymore."
Kuroka didn't doubt Eren's disgust for devil Kings. The Old Satan faction had been Eren's favourite part of the Brigaid to use as examples whenever he needed to put the fear of the Titan in newbies.
It was hilarious to see those hoity-toity 'noble' devils chafe under his control, act out, and get crushed by a 'lowly human.' But now wasn't time for justified schadenfreude.
Eren was lost. Confused. Hurt.
"What changed," Kuroka asked gently.
"Since I've been here," Eren hesitated, speaking slowly as he tried to put his thoughts back together. "On this bench, even that reason, that hatred, isn't enough to answer why. I haven't found the answer, just more reasons to ask why."
"What changed, nyaa?"
"I realized I was making the same mistake as last time," Eren sighed, weariness all that was left in him as he slumped back against the bench. "I thought I wasn't, but I was. I was hating them for what they were, not who they were. I still hate most Kings of Peerages. Or at least, most I've met," Eren clarified.
Then he paused, reaching down for his cane where it had fallen.
"But... there are kind devils too," he said softly, drawing the first few inches of the blade. "Those with dreams or who give their Peerage a choice. And I can't hate people like that."
It was with a voice void of any will to live that Eren spoke his following words.
"You. Them. Everyone in this world. I can't hate everyone, not like I used to. So why am I here? You all would be better off if I wasn't here."
"Don't say that!" Kuroka snapped. Eren went to speak, but she cut him off. "You can only see what you are involved in. You have no idea if things would be better or worse without you. Whether I would even still be here!"
"You're right," Eren nodded slowly. "I can't see that. But after what I do-"
"What we do, nyaa," Kuroka cut him off. "I've been with you this entire time. I'll be with you to the end. You don't get to take all the blame."
More than anything else she had said, more than any sort of reassurance or appeal to logic, those words shut Eren up.
Which was good because Kuroka wasn't done.
"I don't get it, nyaa," the Nekoshou hissed angrily. It was her turn to be shaking Eren by the shoulders now. "I don't get any of this. I'm trying to understand. I thought I did, but I don't. I don't understand why what we will do is worse than what we've already done. I don't know why you are here or why you are smiling at the end. I don't know why you couldn't send a message for over a year!"
As she shook him, the bandages covering his face finally gave up the ghost and fell to the bench, exposing the deep groves under his eyes. The marks that meant he had to cover his face wherever he went or risk being identified by anyone looking for him.
How many times had Kuroka gently rubbed her hands over those marks, marvelling at the ridges and holes and the power they represented?
Too many to count.
But it was never the shifter marks that held her full attention.
Eren looked up at Kuroka, gray eyes showing more emotion than she had ever seen in them.
Those eyes froze Kuroka's tirade on her lips.
For a second, they stared at each other, really seeing each other for the first time in their lives.
A pathetic man. Lost, confused and angry. One who'd destroy a world for revenge so his friends would live long, happy lives.
A monstrous woman. Loving, hedonistic, and angry. One who'd crush the world for her sister and those she loved.
Kuroka's voice was much softer as she finished her declaration.
"I don't know why you were reborn in this world." Kuroka still had her hands on Eren's shoulders, fingers digging in. As if she could hold on forever. "All I know is that no matter the reason, I am glad you were reborn."
"You don't understand," Eren shook his head slowly. "You can't understand. The fear and shame-"
"Get it through your thick skull, nyaa!" Kuroka interrupted Eren again, physically shaking him as the anger returned. "I am not trying to understand. Not now. You're smiling in the end, right? Then you'll know why, and I will, too. Until then, I don't care, nyaa!"
She kissed him. Hard. Hard enough that his lips would bruise.
Then she pulled back, revelling in the surprise in his eyes. The first time she had ever seen that look on him.
"You've been gone for over a year. You ran away. Fine, I'll accept such a lame excuse, nyaa. I always knew you had your moments of suicidal idiocy. But I cannot accept you saying you shouldn't have been born."
"I didn't say that," Eren said, seizing Kuroka's wrists and glaring at her. There it was. The fire. The passion. The will. The hard-headed stubbornness that had broken the backs of the worst this world had to offer over his titanic knee. "I never regretted being born. I just want to know why? Why was I reborn, and why me? Why have I become exactly what I've always hated?"
"I don't care why, nyaa!" Kuroka hissed, throwing her considerable strength against Eren's. All she managed to do was reposition herself till she was sitting on his lap, glaring down at him with fierce eyes as her tails swirled in a frenzy behind her. "You don't know why you were born? None of us do! So I don't care. All I care about is this. This moment. You and me. Right here and now."
"Why?"
So much in such a short question, asked by a man as lost as everyone else about the future.
Why can't you understand? Why won't you understand?
Why can you ignore this problem, this question about my existence?
Why, after everything I've done and will do, are you still with me?
Why do you still care?
"Because I love you," Kuroka said softly. "Idiot."
Kuroka kissed him again, taking great pleasure in the way Eren's eyes widened in surprise once more.
It was a shame that his connection to the Path was inhibited. Otherwise, Kuroka might have gained her seventh tail that summer evening on the bench.
********
While the enormous power of the mix of the Founder and Attack Titan does give an excellent opportunity for visually dramatic conflicts, I have always been more interested in how it affects the characters. How does one deal with seeing everything, living every moment in a life all at once? At every moment, you are living your worst and best moments. You are feeling the most significant pain and most incredible pleasure every second of your existence.
That's gonna mess a guy up. We see hints of it at the end of AOT, but there simply isn't room for exploring it.
Imagine knowing your husband/wife for decades before even meeting them. Do you love them more or less? What about enemies? You know someone is an enemy who will hurt you before they even know you exist. Does that affect your decisions? Are you the one that makes them an enemy? Are you the one that makes someone your lover?
It's such an interesting premise that I haven't really seen explored deeply. The closest is Dr. Manhattan in the original Watchman, and he is categorically not a base human, unlike Eren and Ymir before they gained their power. If one is a complete sociopath or an unfeeling machine, it doesn't matter, but despite the actions they take, both Eren and Ymir are shown to care and love people.
I've rambled a bit, but my point is that Eren is not an absolute type character. Just as the DxD cast is growing by knowing him, so is he growing by knowing them. In a way he couldn't do in AOT because of how it ended.
I've made no secret that On The Bench is a way of coming to terms with the end of Attack on Titan, both for the characters and me as an author. I've never stated one way or the other whether I like the ending because it doesn't matter for this story. It's the ending we received. And we must come to terms with it, whether we like it or not.
Fanfiction is terrific for allowing us to explore 'what ifs,' AUs, or alternate scenarios, but it can never escape the original work. Then it's not fanfiction anymore, but a whole new story.
I will meet you all next week on the bench.
The only thing of importance that I took away was the harem ship has officially sailed. Catwoman and sword lady get! Are we getting glasses girl and red-hair too?
