i was rereading the manga for Reasons, and i got to this part
and just.
look at him. flying a damaged aircraft towards even more hell than the one they just escaped, through his fucking tears because one of the best humans he's ever met just sacrificed themself to give him and the others a chance (and he could do nothing but leave them behind and carry on)
like, damn. Onyankopon the man that you are âĽď¸
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Fandom: Attack on TitanÂ
Pairing: Hanji x ReaderÂ
Words: 4kÂ
A/N: This is a self-indulgent, completely unfiltered, messy little fic that deals with my love for Hanji. Ever since I started reading AoT back in 2015, Iâve had a soft spot for Hanji. My little ray of sunshine, one of my first comfort characters, the one character I could actually see myself becoming friends with in real life. Seeing her death finally animated (beautifully) brought a lot of feelings forward. She was brave and gorgeous and kind and absolutely amazing. It actually feels like Iâm saying farewell to a close friend of mine. And so this messy fic was born, mostly unedited but with a lot of my personal feelings channeled into the readerâs POV. You can read this as either a platonic or romantic relationship, whatever floats your boat. I hope you enjoy the fic!Â
Warnings: lots of angst, major character death, implied reader death, some blood and violence, struggling to cope with grief, post-war/post-snk 139 world, Hanji is referred to as female with she/her pronounsÂ
THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AOT S4 PART 3 (AND THE UPCOMING PART 4) AND SNK 139! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT ALL CAUGHT UP, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!Â
Itâs all so stupid. A stupid idea, a stupid reason behind it, a stupid man telling you about it in the first place. Why even bother with this in the first place? Itâs not like itâll help you in the long run.
But Falcoâs still staring up at you with those big eyes, the slightest quiver of his lip, arms stretched out towards your own.
âPlease?â His voice is unnaturally soft; it might be the lighting, but you can almost see a tear in those huge eyes. âAt least try it, wonât you? I promise, youâll feel better. Just like Dad says.â
You donât have the heart to tell the kid his fatherâs full of shit, just like everyone else in this horrible world. Nothingâs left for you to enjoy, nothing you can cling to during the tough times. Those days are gone, the memories of bliss vanishing with every passing day.
But he looks so sad, so fucking hopeful, as though he still believes you can do it. You can lift this crushing weight off your chest with just a pen, some paper, and a few words every day.
ââŚFine.â He practically shoves the dusty old notebook into your chest with a smile. âIâll give it a shot.â
Youâll try, but you already know itâs a waste of time.
Iâm not good at this. Writingâs never been my strong suitânot when it comes to other people. But you already know knew that, didnât you?
Mr. Grice gave me the idea. Says writing everything down is a lot better than saying it out loud sometimes. Falco said the same thing; he still writes to his brother every other week.Â
I donât understand why. Itâs not like Iâll ever send them, theyâre just gonna sit in my desk collecting dust. But I told Falco Iâd try for him. Heâs a sweet kid, I can see why you like liked him. Sorry, itâs a habit.Â
I donât know what else to say. I guess Iâll try again tomorrow.
Itâs me again. Onyankopon came to visit again. He checks up on me at least once every week. Same day, same time. Itâs like he doesnât trust me. Maybe heâs just looking out for me. Thatâs what Levi says.
Things are slowly going back to normal. He says itâs been almost five months since you left the battle. Itâll be spring soon. This winter hasnât been too bad though. I miss the snow a little bit. Maybe one day we can go further north to see some next year. I know Gabi and Falco would enjoy it.
I canât think of anything else to write down. Iâm sure Iâll be back soon though.
Mundane topics. What you ate today. Who you saw at the market. The stories Gabi and Falco would make up whenever they were bored.
Itâs all so stupid, but you write it down anyway. Stuff sheâd like, stuff she wouldnât like. Not her name, never her name. You canât bear to say it out loud, not even spell out the letters without bursting into a fit of sobs. Whatâs the point, anyway? Not like sheâs here to answer her own name anymore.
Still, you keep writing. Every day, at least something goes down in that little brown notebook. Youâre the only one who reads it. Mr. Grice refuses to, says itâs for your eyes only. Falco sometimes shares what heâs written to his brother, but only when the two of you are alone. He has a little brown book of his own, same shape and size too. Always keeps it in the first drawer of his nightstand, same place you keep yours.
The days crawl by. Every breath hurts less and less. Slowly but surely, you wonder if youâre actually getting better.
I thought of you today. The kids wanted to stop in a bookstore during our shopping trip so I let them. They can be so eager and hyper when they want to be. (Why canât they be like that when it comes to their chores?)
They both went for the bookshelf in the far corner. Books about the world; about weapons, inventions, plants, animals, experiments, I couldnât keep track of how many there were. And the kids just sat there for hours, leafing through book after book. I ended up leaving just to drop off the groceries at home before heading back to pick them up. And when I got there they were still poring over those dusty, wrinkled pages.
You would like the bookstore. Itâs on the smaller side but it doesnât feel crowded. Itâs got a few benches for people to sit and read for a bit, and thereâs a cafĂŠ right next door too. But when I told Levi about it he got a little snippy; I think heâs jealous, his tea shop will always be superior.
Heâs doing okay, I know youâre probably worried about him. His leg still gives him trouble but heâs getting better every day. He gave me a job after the shop opened a few weeks ago. Right now Iâm just cleaning off tables and fixing up pastries in the back. Gabi handles inventory with Levi (sheâs actually pretty good at it) and Falco takes care of the customers up front. He has the best attitude out of all of us, I think. The job is a bit boring sometimes but it beats killing Titans, using ODM gear, being a soldier
Never mind. Iâll write more later, I have to go for now. Iâll be back.
Itâs really warm today. I keep thinking about that summer we spent in Krolva, in 848. You kept hunting for strange plants and flowers in the forest and had me and Moblit chasing after you all day! But you didnât stop, not even when Levi threatened to knock you out and haul you back to base.
Sometimes I can still see Erwinâs smile, hear Mike and Nanabaâs laughter, feel the light summer breeze against my face.
I can still remember the way you said my name. I miss hearing the sound of your voice.
For the first time in a long while, you wake up with a smile on your face.
Your cheeks are stained with tears, still. You havenât gone to sleep silently once in the past six months or so. Always stuffing your face into the pillow, muffling your sobs, praying neither Levi nor the kids hear you being so pathetic.
Your head is pounding, throat tight but chest feeling lighter than ever. You have to write it down, you donât wanna forget, donât forgetâ
The notebook is resting on your dresser. Your hands still shake when you reach for it, almost clatters to the floor when you try to pick it up. The pen leaps from your trembling fingers. The first words you write are barely legible, but you donât stop writing for anything.
I had a dream about you last night. I canât remember everything but I know you were in it and you were still alive smiling.
Still had both eyes, silly girl.
None of our comrades were there; no Levi, Moblit, or Mike. Just me and you, sitting on the rooftop of the old Survey Corps base, watching the stars twinkle above us. Your arm was so warm against my shoulders. Your messy hair tickling my cheek. You were laughing about something, I canât remember what. But you looked so happy, so carefree and joyful. You havenât looked that relaxed in years.
You whispered something in my ear, and my throat exploded with laughter. You held me close, lips brushing my cheek, eyes shining in the glowing moonlight.
You were happy, so I was happy.
But then I woke up, you were gone, and I was cold again.
Summerâs almost halfway over. The tea shop has been busier, Levi seems to enjoy the success. Heâs still not very sociable but heâs learning to be more pleasant with the customers. Theyâll keep coming back if heâs not rude to them all the time.
The town is expanding. Onyankopon thinks one of the nearby cities will start offering jobs, either railroad work or seamstress positions. A lot of factory jobs will start coming back too, and theyâll pay well. He says I could apply, just to keep my hands busy. Says itâs good to get out of the country once in a while.
Still undecided, Iâd be going alone. Levi refuses, he hates the idea of city living, and he has the tea shop to worry about. The kids would stay with them; Gabi doesnât like the smell of smoke, and Falco wouldnât go anywhere without her. I can go, I donât have anything tying me down.
What do you think I should do?
Four weeks left. Itâs getting harder and harder to keep writing. I thought it would get easier, like Falco said. But I still feel that horrible pit deep in my chest. A weight thatâs making it harder to breathe every day.
I donât know what to do. Iâm a burden. I canât do anything on my own anymore. Itâs always Levi or Onyankopon whoâs there to hold my hand. Always Gabi and Falco to bring me back, remind me I have to keep living, to keep my head out of the clouds. But sometimes I wish I could run away. Leave it all behind. Maybe that city idea doesnât seem so bad.
I wish you were here with me.
August 22nd. Two weeks to go.
Leviâs been quieter nowadays. Onyankopon isnât as eager when heâs talking about the recovering towns and cities. Even the kids are more solemn than usual.
Still hoping this is all a bad dream. That Iâll wake up and youâll be at my side, smiling and laughing like you do. Not a single care in the world.
The calendar is torn to shreds, left on the kitchen table for everyone to see. Gabi is utterly silent, a far cry from her usual loudmouthed self. Falco is quick to pull her aside as you storm past them, down the hall and into your room, slamming the door with a thud.
Burying your face in your hands. Chest wracked with sobs. Throat burning as her name rips itself from your mouth.
Hanji.
Stop it.
Your back hits the wall, knees buckling beneath your weight. Nails tear at the roots of your hair, scraping down your cheeks, eyes growing warm even though you keep them shut.
Hanji.
Another scream, you throw yourself against the wall. Your shoulder collides with the bookcase, but the pain doesnât help. Nothing helps you anymore, not even writing in that shitty little bookâ
Someoneâs calling your name on the other side of the door. Tiny fists pound on the wood; the knob twists and turns in vain. You made sure to lock it after coming in here.
Stop it. Canât they see you want to be left alone?
Alone. Youâre all alone now. You have no one left.
No parents, no children, no comradesâŚ
And no other half.
Hanji.
âStop it!â But you can still hear her name, swirling around in your head, a chorus of a thousand voices.
Hanji, Hanji, Hanji.
âLeave me alone!â
Something shatters against the wall. Your palm stings with something fierce, a shadow of red seeping from the skin.
The book, the book, where is it? Where did you put it?
There it isâright on your bed where you left it last. Youâre scrambling over broken glass to grab at it, bloody fingers clutching the pen stuck between the pages. The tears are hot against your cheeks. Hurt like nothing else, not even the pain in your chest.
And they just keep on coming as you keep on writing.
Why did you leave me? Why did you have to go? Why did you have to kill kill yourself like that?
We couldâve handled it. Without your help. Maybe if youâd let us youâd still be alive with me. If youâd just trusted meâwhy didnât you trust me? I trusted you, why didnât you return the favor?
Itâs your fault Iâm like this now. I was fine before but then you fucked it all up.
Did you think you were some kind of hero? Youâre not. Going out in a blaze of glory? Selfish asshole.
Youâre not. You never were. You left me and now Iâm alone and I hate
I hate you.
I hate you I hate you I hate you didnât have to leave me but you did and now I hate you I canât believe I love loved you how could I ever love someone so selfish fuck you so selfish
I HATE YOU
YOU DIDNâT HAVE TO DIE WHY ARENâT YOU HERE WITH ME ANYMORE WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU LEAVE TO MAKE YOU GO WHY WHY WHY
I STILL HATE YOU
Levi finds you hours later. Sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, hands trembling against your knees. The book is lying halfway across the room. Mustâve thrown it earlier.
He heaves a sigh, dragging his hand across his scarred face. And despite the ache in his leg he still kneels down to your level, taking a seat beside you against the bed. Wrapping up your hands in one of the spare shirts you tore from the dresser just minutes before.
âBrats were worried,â he finally says, and he sounds so fucking tired. Thereâs an inkling of guilt blooming in your chest. Such a burden to him, as always. âSaid youâd run off and started crying.â
ââŚSo?â
He rolls his eyes, focusing on your bloodied hands. Theyâre dry now, and he makes a sound of disgust in the back of his throat.
Eventually he pulls you on your feet, leads you to the washroom and runs your hands under the warm water. He wraps up your hands in some clean bandages; over his shoulder you can see two sets of eyes staring at you from down the hall. One brown, one hazel.
âQuit beating yourself up like this. Thatâs not what she died for, brat. And donât ask me,â he snaps when I open my mouth, âwhat she died for. Because you and I both know the answer to that. âŚSo donât make me say it.â
Youâre still blubbering like a child, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, splashing onto the clean bandages around your hands. Levi sighs again before pulling you in close, one arm looped around your shoulders. His chest is warm, heart strong against your palm.
But itâs nothing compared to hersâand the thought makes you cry even harder.
âI get it.â His lips are warm against your forehead, hand cupping around the back of your head. âI miss her, too.â
Youâre not sure when he makes you leave the washroom. But once he does he brings you down to the kitchen, giving Gabi and Falco each a pat on their heads. You give them a smile, tears still fresh in your eyes, before gathering the torn pieces of the calendar in your bruised hands.
Maybe you can fix this. Itâs the fifth of September, after all. Not a day you want to forget just yet.
Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean it, I swear on my life. I wanna rip those pages out but Iâll lose the other letters and I donât want to lose them like I lost you.
I donât hate you. Youâre not selfish, you never were. I know you did the best you could as Commander of the Survey Corps, with the incredible weight on your shoulders. Your main priority was always keeping us safe and giving us hope.
I know why you left that day. But I wish you hadnât left me behind. I couldâve gone with you, helped you out that day. We could still be together dead or alive.
I love you. I wish I couldâve said it when you were still alive with me. I wish I could say it to your face instead of writing it down in a dusty old notebook.
I love you. I miss you. I wish I could see your smile one last time. Hear your voice again. See the beautiful shine in your eyes.
Because I love you, and I always have. Maybe someday Iâll see you again and tell you face-to-face. Maybe by then I wonât be such a coward.
Hope you enjoy your birthday up there.
Every day brings something new. Smells, tastes, sounds, even the wind outside is different every day. People passing each other hour after hour, car horns filling your ears, the sting of smoke deep in your lungs; itâs easy to get lost in the atmosphere.
You take it in stride. Onyankopon is standing there, holding out his hand, ready to guide you deeper into the city. Heâs offered to carry your suitcase but you insisted you do it yourself; too many memories are stuffed in between the clothes inside.
You suck in a breath and take his hand. A little awkward, with a suitcase in your other hand, and the old tattered notebook resting in the crook of your elbow. But the damn thing has already wormed its way into your heart, no way are you leaving it behind now.
A tight swallow, a soft smile from Onyankopon, as you let him lead you towards the next chapter of your life.
City life isnât as hard as I thought it would be. Itâs busy and crowded but it keeps me looking forward. No time to dwell on the past here. Maybe thatâs why Onyankopon was so adamant about me living here.
Thereâs a bookstore here, much larger than the one back home where Levi and the kids live. It pays well, the ownerâs nice, and she lets me borrow some of her own books from her personal collection from time to time.
She wears glasses tooânot as cute as yours, though.
I try to visit Levi and the kids every other weekend. Gabi and Falco come to visit once in a while but Levi always stays behind. Blames it on the bad leg but we both know the truth. Too many bad memories of Mitras has made him wary of crowded cities.
But I like it. I have my own apartment, right next door to Onyankoponâs, with a balcony and a slew of potted plants. Onyankopon says some people like to name their plants just for the fun of it. The two sitting on the windowsill are Sawney and Bean. (Youâre welcome, silly girl.)
Itâs hard work but Iâm getting better. I donât dread writing in this book anymore. I can think of your smile without bursting into tears. For now Iâm content to sit back and enjoy city life, until whatever god watching over us decides my time is up.
I promise to write soon; have to head to work now. Iâll be back.
Itâs been a year since you left me. I still want to see you again.
Onyankopon and I are heading into town for a few days to visit Levi. He says he doesnât need help around the shop but he never complains whenever I show up at his door. Sometimes I wonder if he feels obligated to put up with me. If he thinks youâll haunt him forever if he turns me away. That sounds like something you would do, silly girl.
I had another dream about you last night. Right after the celebration for Shiganshina, the night before the expedition to reclaim Wall Maria. We were laughing and drinking and sharing old storiesâbut we werenât alone. Erwin and Levi were there. So was Moblit, and by some miracle, so were Mike and Nanaba.
I hope weâll all be together again soon. I hope theyâre all watching us, waiting to see what weâll do with this new world weâve forged for ourselves.
I know you are. Youâre always watching, arenât you?
I have to go now, or Onyankopon will head out without me. Iâll let you know how Levi and the kids are when I come home.
Miss you more every day. I hope Iâll get to see you again soon. Until then, Iâll just have to keep writing these silly little letters. I think youâd like them anyways.
See you later, Hanji.
Itâs bright when you open your eyes. Too bright, a soft breeze kissing your cheeks, nose scrunching up as you shield your face with your hands. Funny, you donât remember leaving the window open when you fell asleep. Or sleeping outside, for that matter.
Youâre lying in the grass, a bed of wildflowers sprawled beneath you. Thereâs a forest at the edge of the valley, close enough for you to see the shadows of animals spilling across the trees. The sun is warm on your skin, so bright and beautiful, not a single cloud in the sky.
Almost too good to be true.
Is this it? Have you finally reached the end of your line? All those days with Levi, Onyankopon, and the kids, moving from town to city for work, seeing what little of the new world you could for both you and your other halfâŚ
Has your time finally run out?
âHey, over here!â
Your blood freezes in your veins. A shadow crosses yours in the warm sunlight. A heavy cape blows in the wind, a dark green to match the forest beyond the meadow.
A pair of wings splashed against the fabric. Messy brown hair tied up haphazardly. Shiny glasses reflecting in the sun. Warm brown eyes that remind you of home.
âI was wondering when youâd get here. Itâs been kinda lonely, I have to sayâŚâ
Hanji Zoe is standing right there in front of you, looking as radiant as ever. No scars or bruises to be seen, nor the black patch over her left eye. No burns or charred fabric on her body.
She looksâŚhappy. Safe, content.
Alive.
ââŚDumbass,â you finally find your voice, rushing into her outstretched arms. âYou had me worried sick! Are you hurt? Can I do anything for you? I swear, I wonât let you go anywhere alone ever again! Iâll be right there by your side for as long as youââ
âHey, hey, hey, come on now! Youâre gonna make me blush with all that sweet talk!â
But you canât stop yourself. And before you know it youâre sobbing into her chest, arms wrapped tight around her wrist, feeling the soft b-bmp of her heart against your ear.
âLove you, you know that? I love you, so please donât leave me againâŚâ
Youâll say it over and over, as many times as she wants to hear it. But for right now sheâs silent, her arms resting around your waist and shoulders, tugging you in for a bone-crushing hug. Her messy hair is tickling your nose again, her smile could rival the sun in the sky. She shakes her head and lets out a laugh, before pressing a warm kiss to the apple of your cheek.
âI wonât ever leave you again, alright? Iâm sorry about that, I never meant to hurt you. I didnât mean to leave you like thatâŚâ
You hold her tighter, knocking her down into the wildflowers below. She lets out a real laugh this time, hair sticking out like a halo above her head, palms against your cheeks. For the first time in monthsâno, yearsâyour chest feels whole again.
âI know you didnât. Itâs okay, I promise, itâs okayâŚâ
A comforting silence washes over the two of you. Itâs so warm right here, in this little meadow of your own, surrounded by a thousand wildflowers. Sheâs finally safe in your arms, after all these years, and you are never letting her go ever again.
ââŚI love you, Hanji.â
âI know,â she answers with a smile that makes your heart soar, âand I love you too.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I don't think we talk enough about how the last two veterans not only reclaimed the old SC slogan of 'Dedicate Your Heart" (after it was dragged through the mud by the Jaegerists), but also infused it with more meaning and purpose than ever before.
The absolute purity of this scene after all the fucked up mess we witnessed in the whole story is just something deeply special to me.
People can't understand this is the saddest and, at the same time, the most romantic declaration of love in manga history.
Levi brings his fist to Hange's heart, not to his and so he declares to her that his heart has always belonged and will always belong to her and to no one else.
Levi and Hange did not have the courage to abandon everything, they are too attached to their duty as Captain and Commander.
It is also a pity that readers do not understand all the parallels present throughout the story between Levihan and Eremika.
The raw growing sadness in his eye and drop of lips...
The crease of his forehead and worry in his face during his initial refusal to look up at Hanji's fight while everyone else can't take their eyes off...
The pain written in the deep and shadow under his eyebrows, in his gaze and downturned mouth when he finally looked up...
These bare expressions of thoughts and feelings...
- were NOT a display of weakness
- Didn't lessen his mighty resolve to keep fighting
- Didn't make him less badass
- Didn't make him less of a true comrade
These all humanized and potentialized a million times the sheer indescribable unmatched heart of Humanity's Strongest while facing the End of the World - precisely because he allowed and felt it hurt, and then rose up AGAIN.
Thank you, Isayama, for letting us clearly see this raw side of Levi through your very own hands đ