[When Maruki reaches for a piece of Eren's croissant, Eren thoughtlessly hands over the entire thing. His friend is hungry.
[After that, it's all grief. Waking up in the morning and remembering that your comrade is dead is a unique sort of Hell, but then the Commander is calling for you to stand at attention, so you do, and you forget for a little while. That continues on until you're nineteen years old, barreling toward your own death, where grief will cease to have any weight.
[It isn't like that here. The war they fight is quiet like a slow-acting poison. When you wake up and remember that your friend is gone, all there is ahead of you is another day to live without them. The Commanders sit in their cottages and drink tea. You find ways to fill the time. You must find ways to fill the time. All the while uncertain as to whether or not ghosts are really ghosts.
[Eren never meant to cause Maruki grief. He is a creature built from grief, born grieving. It never gets easier. It never hurts less. He still sees them, hears them, feels them - all of them. Even those who probably never would have called him a friend themselves.
[Now, here, at the end of his life, so many have been left to grieve - grieve Eren, grieve the world. To love Eren is to lose him, and Maruki will a thousand times more than anyone else will.
[Why? Because they'll meet a thousand more times than anyone else will. Because they were meant to sit just like this, face to familiar, bespectacled face.
[Eren's hand starts to reach across the table - stills...
[...connects at Maruki's bicep, squeezing. Eren looks him in the eye. The words "I'm sorry" are so terribly cheap. He can't bring himself to say them. Maybe Maruki will know. He knows so many things.
[Eren lets go of Maruki's arm; withdraws his hand.]
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[After that, it's all grief. Waking up in the morning and remembering that your comrade is dead is a unique sort of Hell, but then the Commander is calling for you to stand at attention, so you do, and you forget for a little while. That continues on until you're nineteen years old, barreling toward your own death, where grief will cease to have any weight.
[It isn't like that here. The war they fight is quiet like a slow-acting poison. When you wake up and remember that your friend is gone, all there is ahead of you is another day to live without them. The Commanders sit in their cottages and drink tea. You find ways to fill the time. You must find ways to fill the time. All the while uncertain as to whether or not ghosts are really ghosts.
[Eren never meant to cause Maruki grief. He is a creature built from grief, born grieving. It never gets easier. It never hurts less. He still sees them, hears them, feels them - all of them. Even those who probably never would have called him a friend themselves.
[Now, here, at the end of his life, so many have been left to grieve - grieve Eren, grieve the world. To love Eren is to lose him, and Maruki will a thousand times more than anyone else will.
[Why? Because they'll meet a thousand more times than anyone else will. Because they were meant to sit just like this, face to familiar, bespectacled face.
[Eren's hand starts to reach across the table - stills...
[...connects at Maruki's bicep, squeezing. Eren looks him in the eye. The words "I'm sorry" are so terribly cheap. He can't bring himself to say them. Maybe Maruki will know. He knows so many things.
[Eren lets go of Maruki's arm; withdraws his hand.]
If there's time...[There's never time.]...we'll just rest a while.
I'm tired. [It feels odd to admit.] Dying, I thought...I wouldn't be anymore.