Red Umbrella- Eremin Fic

Chapter 4

Eren Jeager  had been visiting the roof of the Trost Building since he was 7 years old. His father Grisha Jeager, had owned a pharmaceutical company and his office had been at the very end of the hallway on the left side of the 53rd floor. It still was there of course, but no one used it anymore. Eren shut the service door behind him, figuring if anyone saw him it would only be Tom the repair man. The brunette scanned the empty hallway, then crossed over to the right side making sure he was still being quiet. He stopped in front of Suite 309, looking at the silver plaque on the door. "Grisha Jeager, Jeager Pharmaceutics" it read. Even ran his finger lightly over the plaque, pulling it away dusty. The bamboo blinds were shut tightly, allowing no light to seep in or out. It pained him to see his father's office like this. Falling into a state of disrepair.... Forgotten.... Uncared for. At least it hadn't been replaced, but then again no one used this floor. Not since that day in April. That day... Eren shook his head, emptying it of the awful thought. He slid his father's office key out of its hiding place in his pocket and slid it into the door's keyhole. The door opened softly, the hinges still well oiled. Eren slipped into the dusty room, shutting the door behind him.

It was dark inside the small office, the figures of furniture barely illuminated in the dying light. Eren walked over to the desk, flicking the small desk light on. It's warm glow cast shadows across the room, revealing dusty chairs, and stacks of cardboard cartons. The brunette lifted one carton off the top of the stack, pulling off the lid. Inside was his umbrella full of holes, along with several photographs, a few candy bars and a flashlight. Even gently lifted his umbrella out of the box, then picked up a glossy photograph. The picture had been taken at least ten years back. His mother and father stood together, smiling, as Eren and a girl with sleek black hair stood at their feet. The brunette gazed at the picture a bit longer. He looked so happy, and so did Mikasa.

Mikasa.... She'd been worrying about him lately. She asked why he didn't go to school with her, called to try and find out where he was. He was usually here or walking in the rain or cutting class (He had not  for attended the entire year so far and it's not like anyone stopped him from leaving) , but he never told Mikasa any of this. She was already stressed as it was. He usually slept here too, in an attempt to avoid his foster parents. He didn't dislike them, but they were always so worried. Worried about his mental state, his future, what he was wearing, what he was up to. It was a constant stream of worry, and always directed at him.

Eren slid the photograph into his pocket, taking another carton off the stack. This one had a sleeping bag and camping lantern, which he kept here for nights like this. He took a candy bar from the other carton, peeling the wrapper away and taking a bite. Reaching back into the dusty cardboard bin, he pulled out an extra jacket, which served as a pillow. A photograph fluttered out from the cloth, and Eren swept it up, gazing at the blurred surface. He was laughing about something, Mikasa standing next to him and smiling in her shorts and t-shirt.  They looked to be about 8 years old. A blonde boy that Eren couldn't recognize stood off towards the side, smiling and holding a Popsicle. He seemed very familiar and a feeling of déjà vu washed over the brunette. He'd recognize those blue eyes anywhere, the blonde bowl cut. He'd seen the same boy, walking with Mikasa to school, the same boy in a group picture tacked to her bulletin board. In fact, he'd seen the same boy earlier today, sitting on the roof in the rain with him. It was Armin....but why couldn't he remember him?

The day the picture had been taken was a muggy August afternoon, and Eren and Mikasa had been catching grasshoppers in the summer heat. Armin had been with them, this Eren was sure of. But there seemed to be a gap every time Eren tried to recall what the blonde might've said, if he'd been wearing a blue shirt or a red shirt. If he'd tripped and skinned his knee. Every spot where Armin should have been, there was only a blank space.

The brunette set the photo down with trembling fingers. He lay down, resting his head on the bundled up jacket. The sun had sunk low on the horizon, the city lights beginning to flicker on, one by one. Eren was still puzzled as to why he hadn't remembered Armin before seeing the picture. He took another bite of candy bar, gazing up at the paneled ceiling. There was a small hole beginning to form in one of the panels, and you could see the wires underneath. The brunette unrolled his sleeping bag, splaying out on the flimsy surface. He finished the remaining bites of candy bar, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it into the wire wastebasket. His hair was still wet from the rain and it left a splotch of water on the sleeping bag's surface. He sighed, his thoughts flitting back to that day in April. The day his life had changed forever. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that it had been his father over everyone else. It wasn't fair that he'd lost everything, when everyone else still had it all.

Eventually Eren flicked off the desk light, drifting into a deep and dreamless slumber.