𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗨𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗮𝗶𝗻

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟏

I. SEDUCTIVE STORM.

The gentle rain swept away his torments towards an infinite bed. A silken bed where lay the past of sleeping meanders.

Sitting on the sticky ground, this being was not concerned. For once, he was not worried about others, because he was alone and destroyed. Thoughts waiting, words galore, he gave up. His heart reduced to bruised specimens, the man with greyish eyes fretted over old melancholy. Life had been good, once. Still troubled and sad, but without that glimmer of sinister dread, drowned in a black sheet, following him at every turn.

Why was the reaper following him like a dog pleading its master? The allegory of death would haunt him forever, that, he knew. However, he still didn't understand why it was always visiting his friends and yet never him.

Crashing down on the man, accompanying the being with his imagination, the rain mimicked his need for solitude and warmth. The sky was watching him from above, letting him think how good this weather was to denounce his pain, a good time to hide it, as well as his hatred.

He was reduced to nothing, turned upside down by this hurricane that the reaper kept with him. He hadn't capsized once seeing all those lifeless bodies, but that day hadn't been the same as the previous ones. That face bare of euphoria remained etched in his destroyed mind. He had always been strong, always held his ground, but this time the crack had reverberated through his entire being. The crack that ran through his heart had reached an unbearable point, having widened, faced with the visions of dysphoria. Each time, something inside him snapped, but in that moment, his heart had cracked more than before.

That firm face he had so loved, appreciated and sworn to protect, was now a dull face, a whitish face that had been torn from all its functions.

His cries were silent, following the raging dance of the rain. His tears followed the cadence of the drops around him, playing in a funeral melody that filled his mind. He had cracked. To see such a macabre landscape had been too much, that red landscape where a particular body rested in the middle of all.

The plethora of cries haunting his nights had just doubled, ripping out frightened eyes from him forever, with the famous bluish gaze as an image.

Erwin Smith had just died on the battlefield, his mouth half open with which he had expressed his last words, words which had sealed his fate. A blank stare, lost in a contemplation directed towards the past, he showed nothing more. Empty, hungry for truth, all was lost in the past.

Levi let his emotions bead in liquid form along his rosy cheeks, under the sky that only he could judge. That same sky sent him all the sorrow he carried as a burden and gave it to him in consolation to hide any salty drop falling.

The silence of the night reigned, no noise bothered him. He was alone, back on the roof where everything had taken place. Why did it all have to go like this? Taking a part of him away was something the universe liked to do to him, and he really thought he had gotten used to it. Yet the pain never left him. He had never forgotten the feeling of mysery and hurt, never faded his misfortunes. But this time, he was no longer the same.

Alone. Now he was completely alone. Alone in the world, nothing could put him back together using all of his broken pieces. Not even Hanji who was not far from him, crying with all her being the loss she had suffered.

The man's empty gaze went to the sky which was, just like him, crying, releasing this emptiness laying in his bruised interiors. The dark haired man's eyes were blank, his heart and body were listless, and his face was darkened. He would never be the same again.

Tirelessly, he told himself to no longer show, to no longer feel, to just die.

Oh, what a beautiful, cruel world this is...