Mourning Songs

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A velvety voice hung in the air, lyrics unknown but captivating. Levi closed his eyes and leaned closer to the wall, letting the music sink in. The Jäger boy had burst into song, Levi wasn't sure why, but he had a gut feeling on why. In his younger days, he knew a boy with bright blue eyes and dark skin, who would sing for all and any of the dead. It wasn't until the third verse that he recognized the song. Yes this was definitely a song of passing. In fact, this was the exact song his friend taught to him, the same one Levi had found himself singing nearly seventeen years ago.

Levi turned his head and scoffed, he couldn't believe he had gotten the lyrics wrong. He listened closer to Eren's words- trusting them to be correct- and yeah, he sang it wrong all those years ago. He mildly wondered if his friend's soul had even passed, with such a shitty excuse for a singer. The short man let out a sigh and a tight smile.

"Rest in peace, you bastard."

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Jean couldn't believe it. Sitting in front of him was a man who against all odd survived. The most pig-headed, idiotic, stubborn, and brave bastard he knew was alive, and he could almost cry from joy.

"Eren, I-"

Eren held up his hands, saying not now. Green eyes looked at the table before shifting around the walls and finally onto Jean's face. "Jean, I heard about Marco and I..." Eren's jaw clenched, "I know he was your best friend. You guys were like brothers. He was a hell've a good guy."

Jean didn't know how to react to this, Eren was being soft-spoken, caring, compassionate. If he had any on him, Jean would've thrown holy water onto Eren; possession was the only explanation for his behavior.
Well, even if he did have holy water, he didn't think he could aim correctly through all the tears.

"I... I want to sing a song. My mother taught me them all when I was very little. They're meant to pass a soul along, give them rest." Jean looked at the table and nodded. Almost everyone in a city had heard of this tradition in one way or another. They were some of the few sub-cultures that were left- most others had chosen to assimilate to the city life, forgetting what life was like before the walls. When he was small, Jean had sometimes heard this singing while walking with his mother, they'd pass by graveyards and hear their voices rising up. It was haunting; it was beautiful and Jean loved it. For a while, one of these women lived next to his house. She was old, and could barely walk on her own. He only ever heard her sing once, softly when her cat passed away. Months later when her body was found, Jean had a soft, sad realization that she had nobody left to sing for her.

While remembering this woman, Eren started softly. He was almost whispering, afraid if he was too loud the world would break. The blonde was grateful, and closed his eyes. He imagined all his comrades who had passed that day, their faces flashing in his head. Marco's face would linger the longest, before switching to the next girl or boy. Eventually the song was over, and Jean was crying again. Eren looked down, holding back tears. He didn't move when Jean grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it in a silent thank you. He still didn't look up when Jean stood and left the room.