Summary: "With nothing to live for, who are you, really?"

Modern AU. It came as a surprise to Rivaille when Eren was hospitalized. 'Suicide Attempt,' they said. "But that's not right.." Rivaille whispered. "Because Eren was happy, wasn't he?"

Thirteen tapes. Thirteen chances to see into his heart. "Who are you, really?"

Eren was one of those happy go lucky people, one of the people who you would say were always smiling. They were in high school and collage together, and Rivaille remembered the moment clearly. They were pouring over collage essay feedbacks, and Rivaille drew a flat, white envelope out of pocket and said in triumph, "I got accepted at Sina."

Eren blinked at him in surprise, green eyes lighting up. "No way.." He murmured.

"What?" Rivaille had snapped. "Do you doubt my mind?"

"No!" Eren frantically denied, eyes shining. "Because I got accepted there, too!"

At that time, Rivaille had screeched in disbelief-at being stuck with Eren for four more years-

But inwardly, he had been ecstatic. Because Eren wouldn't leave, like all the other people in his life.

They were supposed to be going to a movie together, and Rivaille was waiting impatiently in front of Eren's apartment, checking his phone from time to time for the clock.

7:58.

Eren was five minutes late.

What could be taking him so goddamn long?

7:59

Six minutes.

8:00

What is going on?!

Rivaille was about to storm up to the apartment himself and shake Eren-the boy knew that Rivaille never liked to wait-

When his phone buzzed with a text.

Eren Jaegar

He growled. "Finally! That brat has to have a good excuse-"

Rivaille,

Thank you for everything.

"…No way.." Rivaille dropped his phone in horror, barely hearing the crack the plastic made against the cement.

"Eren!" He frantically ran up the stairs, not caring who he knocked into on the way.

"Eren!" The door of his apartment was locked, but-fucking idiot, he had a copy of the key!

With fumbling fingers, Rivaille jerked open the door, stumbling into Eren's all too familiar apartment.

But the stuffed bear that Eren had by his bed seemed to be glaring at him eerily now, instead of the warm and loving image that it presented whenever Eren was there.

Where was he? That brat-where the fuck-

The bathroom.

The door wasn't locked.

"Eren!" Rivaille screamed, pushing open the door. A lifeless body looked over at him from the bathtub, and a small smile was offered to him before Eren's head dropped onto his chest, which was barely moving.

Rivaille frantically ran over to him, not caring that his feet were slipping from the mixture of blood and water that was pooling on the bathroom floor.

"Eren Jaegar! Goddamit, look at me!"

A gleaming knife was in Eren's hand, dully reflecting Rivaille's stricken expression. At that time, he didn't even know himself anymore.

"Eren! Please!" Rivaille begged, harshly shaking Eren.

"Eren!"

The boy's body didn't respond, and Rivaille screamed in terror and fear, not even feeling the tears that streaked down his face.

"Ambulance! Someone! Anyone!"

He was alone in the apartment, wasn't he?

Rivaille hurriedly ran out of the bathroom, still holding Eren-he didn't trust himself to leave the boy-and one-handed, he fumbled for the phone, in the end, typing out a quick

9-1-1 onto the plastic dailpad.

As the phone rang, the operator picked up, voice sounding smooth and cool.

"Hello, this is 9-1-1. How may I help-"

"Fucking get over here now!" Rivaille screamed, voice breaking. "My friend is dead! Hurry!"

The operator didn't say anything, but then a quick-

"We'll be right there, sir." And she hung up.

Rivaille started choking and gasping, curling Eren's body closer to him. "Hey, brat-you won't leave me, right? Ah-no-" Tears were dripping onto Eren's face, blending in with the drying shower water. And as Rivaille looked him over, he found three ugly slits on Eren's wrist, gaping and raw.

Rivaille threw up.

Right there, onto Eren's spotless carpet, and the only thing he found himself thinking over and over in his numb mind-

His apartment is clean.

But Eren's apartment is never clean.

When the ambulance came, Rivaille was almost reluctant to let go of Eren's body, which he swore-

Had some warmth in it.

Waiting in the hospital room.

Calling Hanji, Irvin, Armin, Mikasa, and the others.

Mikasa was the first to arrive, face cold and stiff. Eren's ex-girlfriend, Rivaille thought dimly.

Armin the next, bawling with Jean at his side. Jean's face was cold as he held the other boy tighter to his body. That's right. Rivaille thought unhurriedly. Marco had died, too.
Sasha, Connie, Ymir, and Christa all were next, looking frantic and worried.

Hanji and Irvin came together, looking like they had been out on a dinner date-Hanji was wearing her only dress, after all.

"Is Eren okay? How is he? Rivaille, are you okay?" The woman had frantically asked.

And all Rivaille could think was-

How could I be?

Inside that hallway,

Inside that room,

Was Eren's life,

Hanging by a thread.

Being operated on by a group of medical doctors,

Screaming with a voice Rivaille couldn't quite here,

And trashing with a body that Rivaille couldn't quite see.

~X~

After what seemed like eternity-Rivaille dimly heard the doctor say-

"Are you friends of Eren Jaegar?"

And they all nodded, except for Armin, who was still sobbing into Jean's shoulder.

"He's fine."

Rivaille couldn't believe his words. "….What?"

He thought that Eren would've left.

Because honestly, Rivaille had thought of nothing else

"He's fine." The doctor repeated, smiling. "He was in a critical condition, but he's fine now."

Eren wasn't going to leave.

Eren was going to stay with him.

Eren wouldn't leave him alone.

Because he knew that he was all that Rivaille had.

Right?

And to his horror, Rivaille felt a tear dripping down his face again.

He hastily brushed it away, hoping that no one else had seen.
Mikasa was the first to enter Eren's room, and they all allowed her that small honor. When the rest filed in, Rivaille was the last, hiding behind the tall figures of Hanji and Irvin.

Eren was lying on the bed, face in a tired smile.

Mikasa was holding his hand, and Armin was on his other side, hand on his cheek.

Jean and the rest were clustered around his bedside.

"Thank you…everyone."

Eren's voice was so tired, that Rivaille heard it like a voice of a sixty year old.

"The boy felt like he carried someone else's own bones in his body,

although his body itself

was skittish, like a breeze through the blossoming orchard

at dawn."*

"Eren. Are you okay?" Mikasa's voice was rough and quiet.

"Yeah. I'm okay." Eren breathed, head sinking back onto the pillows and smiling at everyone.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Hanji started crying, sinking her head into Irvin's shoulder. "I thought you were going to die, Eren-"

"Hanji." He murmured. "You're wearing your dress."

She brushed a hand across her face, sniffing. "Yeah.."

Eren's eyes searched the room, looking disappointed when something was missing. "Hey…where's Rivaille?"

"Right here, brat." Rivaille wondered how his voice could be that calm. How was it not shaking?

Maybe he was just a good actor.

That must be it.

"Where?"

Hanji and Irvin moved to the side, so that Rivaille could walk to Eren's bedside. There was a moment of respectful silence, and Mikasa and Armin moved away so that Rivaille could be alone.

They all filed out, and Rivaille found himself left alone with Eren.

"You look horrible, brat."

Eren choked out a laugh. "I do?"

"Stop it. Stop it." Rivaille repeated over and over, until he started spluttering.

"Rivaille…" Eren murmured in surprise, reaching out a hand to touch the other.

"Are you crying?"

"…No." Rivaille replied shortly. "It's just allergies, idiot, mine are bad at this time of year."

He and Eren talked about inconsequential things, but they both avoided the-

Blood

Words

Bathroom

Knife

Falling

Death

And most of all,

Suicide.

When it was dark and visiting times were over, Rivaille didn't protest as he was lead out of Eren's room, but actually felt relieved.

He felt like he was talking to a dead person.

"…I want to talk to you." Irvin murmured, as the rest of the people filed out. Hanji nodded to him, swinging a pair of car keys over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Why would Eren attempt suicide?" His voice was hushed, leading Rivaille to the lobby.

"How could I fucking know?" Rivaille hissed. "I was his best friend-and he didn't tell me!"

"Have you noticed how Eren's been changing lately?!" Irvin cried, swinging his head around. "Look me in the eyes, Rivaille-and tell me that he's stayed the exact same!"

"Sorry, Rivaille-I can't walk with you today-I have to go to the gym."

.

"Eh? Meat? Sorry, I'm on a vegetarian diet."

.

"It's okay! I'll be fine, I'm telling you! I like homework and working!"

.

"Aha, these sleeves are for decoration, so that more girls will notice me~"

.

"How could I…" Rivaille bit his lip.

"So…blind…I'm such a-"

Irvin said nothing, just patted his back gently. "it's not your fault, Rivaille. None of us saw it. Eren is a good actor, that's all."

Rivaille didn't let himself cry.

It was as if he had used all of his tears up-

They dried, and he didn't have anymore.

And…

What if everyone could be reborn again?

Would they chose the same fate?

Would they choose the same people who made them laugh-

so happily-

before?

A world filled with only happiness-

that is a fool's dream.

Would Eren choose him, a thousand times over?

~X~

Eren's POV

Today I got a new sketchbook with an embossed leaf on the cover-

saying-"Nature's Best."

And the inside was so white and clean

I was scared to draw in it

to mar the beautiful pages with the unforgiving

mark of a pencil.

Thinking that I wasn't worthy enough,

I didn't deserve

"Nature's Best."

The most beautiful song I've ever heard was sung by a German Choir,

and I remember thinking-

that maybe, German is a beautiful language after all

hidden only under the angry tones

of fighting and ugly

hurtful words.

Vogel im Kaff, it was called.

I'm not sure, but when I used google translate-

it said-

"Word not found."

Maybe it wasn't in German after all.

And the people who tell me-

"Ugly."

"Fat."

"Why do you even live, anyway?

It's not like you deserve it."

I know. I know that I'm not worth anything

But sometimes, I actually catch myself in the mirror and think-

I look nice

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for thinking that. I'm sorry for hoping,

for believing.

I'm sorry.

And you know that feeling?

When you're in public

frantically searching for the right chord

on a piano song.

Sitting a spotlight undeserved

Playing for people who don't need to hear this

"music"

Like cracking open a egg and accidently mixing the yolk with the white

when you're trying to make a crème cake.

A desperate feeling that's sort of scary

because your brain knows that there's no way out.

I wish all minds had a delete button.

Throwing myself into learning different languages-

I thought that if I could speak

German, French, Italian-

then I would be exalted.

That somehow,

all of that would change my personality,

Who I was.

Guess we all have a "no refund" tag when we're born.

The type of people who-

"Belong everywhere, but don't fit in"

and the type who

"Don't belong anywhere-but fit in anyway-"

Which type am I?

A leafed page of the book,

folded over to conceal dirty words.

You know, if you look at a picture long enough,

what you once thought was beautiful will begin to peel and fade

exposing its unperfected innards.

If it's that scary to look at something already "satisfying"

what would it be like to look at something not even close to perfection?

This is basically my angst contribution to this fandom.

*cries*

I hope you liked reading this-

And if you cried,

Thank you-

For making this piece of work worth everything.

Until next time!

*-Nocturne, by Michael Hettich

K.K

Please Review!