"That will finish our lesson for the day," Sona said as she put away her notepads. She used it to keep track of where Eren was, as well as to mark what needed to be reviewed at what time.
Education was about practice. Not just memorization but application.
Even if Eren memorized every word, they wouldn't do him any good if he never used them.
"I must confess, I am impressed. You are in no way the abysmal student you said you would be. You must be putting in considerable effort when I am not here."
"When I can," Eren nodded slowly. He still spoke in that odd, almost dead way, but Sona was glad to see him emoting more. "Rias helps. She reads to me occasionally. Hearing the language consistently helps, and her translations are very good."
"Oh," Sona did her best to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She wasn't pleased with her rival interfering with her student, even if most of her ire had faded over the past weeks. "That's nice. What are you reading? I can make a few recommendations. Traditional literature is very important in Japanese education."
"I do not know all the names," Eren said. "I think they are children's stories. Short novels for young readers. Some are interesting."
"I see." Sona had to give Rias props. Choosing works targeting younger readers that were still interesting enough to engage a man of Eren's age and experience took some serious forethought. Maybe her rival had a talent for teaching as well? "Any that stood out?"
If nothing else, her future school's library should be well stocked.
"My favourite was... 'Suzumiya Haruhi no Bozo?'"
"Suzumiya Haruhi no Bousou," Sona corrected his pronunciation with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose under her glasses. She had read those books years ago at Rias' urging.
Of course, Rias would be reading light novels to Eren.
Sona didn't know why she expected anything different.
"You know it?" Eren asked.
"I've read the series before, yes," Sona sighed.
She had read those books and dozens of other light novels over the years at Rias' urging. The perils of having a Japanophile as a best friend. Eventually, the Gremory turned to manga and anime more than the written versions, and Sona became more focused on building her dream. Occasionally, Rias would make recommendations that Sona did read when she had the time, but there was no need to tell Eren all that. More important was fostering that engagement with the subject of study.
"Why did that one stand out?"
"I could sympathize," Eren frowned. Sona frowned in turn. Eren wasn't very expressive most of the time. She hadn't seen him smile even once. For him to respond strongly enough for it to show on his face was peculiar. "Trapped in time... Repeating the same days over and over again... It's a hell I would not wish on anyone."
"I suppose it wouldn't be enjoyable to be trapped," Sona hedged, trying to dredge up her memories of the story. It was rare for Eren to get interested in something so light novel or not. She should try and keep him talking. That was a crucial part of teaching. "But doesn't that story end with them free? If you could control it, it would be an incredible boon. The ability to do it all again, correct your mistakes, do everything perfectly in one go, and keep trying until everything is just right. I would like that. I am something of a perfectionist."
"You're wrong." His voice was steel, unbending and inflexible. "Everyone thinks it's great, but it's not. It's terrible. Even if you could control it. Because there is no perfect answer. There never is. People fight. People disagree. They hate, and they discriminate. We are all just big bundles of hypocrisy. Even if you have a million tries, there will never be a world where everything turns out perfectly. So you try, and you try, over and over again, but something is always lost. A price is always paid. But you won't want to pay it, so you try again. A never-ending hell of your own making."
Sona didn't know what to say to that. Clearly, the story resonated much more strongly with Eren than it had with her if he had given it so much thought.
For the last few months, she had been meeting with him three or four times a week on this bench, and the most emotion she had gotten out of him had been occasional bouts of frustration regarding some facet of the vocabulary or conjugation he was struggling with.
Besides the occasional derogatory remark at his own expense, Eren never talked about himself or expressed interest in hobbies.
In fact, it seemed like he was learning Japanese more out of a desire to have something to do rather than any genuine interest.
This was the first time she had ever seen him get passionate about anything.
Part of her resented that it had been Rias' dumb light novel that had him so engaged.
"And then," Eren continued, his voice impassioned. His words were practically spat out, bitter and vitriolic. This was also the most Sona had ever heard him speak without prompting. "You give up. You can't go on forever. No one can. When you realize there is no perfect plan, no way for everyone to be happy and safe, you make a choice. The choice of what matters most to you. The few things you are willing to sacrifice everything for. And when the time comes to pay that price, all you can do is laugh. Laugh because even if it wasn't you who pulled the trigger, you know your choices caused this. You know you could have chosen a different path. You knew what the cost would be. You saw it coming a thousand thousand times. But you paid it anyway. The bullet wasn't yours, but the kill was. So you laugh and cry because it is all your fault."
It didn't take a genius to understand what Eren was getting at.
They weren't talking about a time loop in a book anymore.
It was just a metaphor for making hard decisions.
Sona had read his file and knew of his past. His time leading his mercenary company had been consistently successful and without any known casualties on his side. But it hadn't always been like that.
He had been a child once.
A child on dozens of battlefields. Even if he was a genius, he would have made mistakes. Mistakes that would have cost people their lives.
Was it civilians that haunted him?
His comrades?
Or was it children like him, those thrust into a war not their own and gunned down because they were not as lucky as him?
Maybe he had to make that call.
To sacrifice the few for the many.
Maybe he sent someone to their death, knowing what would happen and knowing it was needed.
No matter the reason, it was clear that Eren Yeager was not so unaffected by his past as he liked to portray. That it was a dumb light novel that was the catalyst was irrelevant. What was important was that he was talking.
Sona gave him time to calm down, huffing and puffing as he was from his tirade. It also gave her time to organize her thoughts.
"Sorry," Eren said softly once he controlled his breathing after a minute of silence.
"It is alright," Sona answered just as softly, then hesitated. "Do you... wish to talk about it?"
Sona was not good with these kinds of things. She excelled at providing structure. Rules and a procedure. Handling emotional and traumatized people was more up Rias's alley than hers.
But, after a few months of tutoring the young man, she did regard Eren as a student and a friendly acquaintance. They certainly kept secrets from each other, but that was to be expected, given their positions.
But that didn't change the fact that she regarded the young man as almost a friend. If nothing else, Sona could listen. This wasn't therapy, but if she could help, she wanted to.
"I don't know." He sounded lost, the passion gone. It was like even he was confused about why he said all that. "I don't... Most people wouldn't get it and talking... Talking can't change the past. Can't change what I've done."
"I might not get it," Sona admitted, being honest. Yes, life as an heiress to a prominent devil house had its fair share of combat, but it also hadn't put her in such a nebulous position as she knew he had been. She had never had to make a call like that. "But I am here. I can listen."
Sona decided to make a bold move and laid her hand on his.
She had done some reading on blind people after meeting Eren, and many of her books spoke about the importance of the other senses to those deprived of sight.
It wasn't anything like superpowers portrayed in media. It was a simple application of practice. They worked those senses much harder than most people and thus got more out of it. It was a simple state of sensitivity.
They were more aware of everything their other senses conveyed.
Sona had taken that to heart in her interactions with Eren. She refrained from loud bursts of noise, used a spell to tone down the effect of her light perfume, and always respected his personal space by sitting at the other end of the bench.
This was the first time she had touched him since their first meeting.
There was no sudden flash of sparks, pounding of hearts, or great revelation. It was just Sona reassuring Eren that she was there. That he wasn't alone.
Though his hand was very warm.
And then she let go, hand returning to her lap.
For over five minutes, they sat on that bench in silence, the spring wind blowing through the leaves of the trees.
"I was a soldier," Eren finally said, his voice distant. "Always wanted to be one. Partly out of anger, partly to fight for something instead of just living life waiting to die like cattle. Joined up the first chance I had. I wasn't the only one. They each had their own reasons, but others joined at the same time. Only a handful of those who made it through training survived the first year of duty. We went through so much. So many died. For me. Because of me. Because they entrusted their hearts to a cause greater than themselves."
Eren rubbed his hair in frustration as if the memories angered him. As he did, the thick bandages over his eyes shifted slightly for a second to give Sona a glimpse of his eyeline.
Small indents were regularly marked along his skin, too regular to be scars. Remnants from surgery? To try and fix his eyes?
She only had a second to look, but Sona now understood why Eren wore those thick bandages instead of just a blindfold. She could only imagine how much harder life would be for him here in Japan if people could see those scars.
Either way, if Sona wanted Eren to continue to open up, she needed to keep him going.
"Were you close?"
There was another beat of silence as Eren let his hand fall to the bench, the other tightening around his cane. His face stared upward to a sky he couldn't see, and for a second, Sona feared she had overstepped.
Then he spoke, voice heavy with a melange of emotions she couldn't hope to unravel but knew none were good.
"We were. We all were. We were all we had. All that remained. I cared more about them than anyone else. More than the whole world."
Sona just listened. This was the first time Eren had ever shared anything about his past, even after months spent together. In some strange way, it warmed Sona's heart. She wasn't the only one who considered the other a friend.
"So many died because of me. Most I didn't know well. Some I did. But one of them... Sasha was... special. Always hungry. Always eating, even when we didn't have a lot. She got in so much trouble. But there was no one like her. We could always count on her to have our backs and cheer us up. Right before our first battle, she managed to snag some meat from the higher-ups. We weren't starved, but meat was a luxury we hadn't had in years. She could have gotten in serious trouble. But instead of hiding it, she wanted to share it with us. One of the rare times she did. More often, she would try and eat everything before anyone else had a chance."
Sounded like Koneko, Sona thought with a slight smile at the fondness in Eren's voice.
"I think." His voice hitched. "I think she wanted to encourage us in her own way. We were going to split up the next day and possibly die, and she didn't want our last memories together before we left to be sad ones."
"She sounds like a wonderful woman. I would have loved to meet her."
"You would have hated her," Eren snorted in derision, the closest thing to laughter she had ever heard from him. "Sasha was way too chaotic for you. In our first training session, she started eating a potato during the roll call. And when the instructor took her to task, she tried to bribe him with half. The smaller half. I honestly didn't think he would ever let her stop running."
He lapsed into silence again, caught up in a memory.
"What happened?" Sona asked gently, her hand brushing against his just the slightest amount to remind him of her presence.
"I killed her."
Sona had expected it from his earlier words, but she also knew it was bound to be more complicated than that.
"I made the plan, knowing she would die. I hoped, prayed, and tried desperately to think of another way to do it, but I couldn't find one. I went through the motions for so long, hoping another option would show itself. But nothing did. And Sasha died. She wasn't the only one. So many more died because of me. But she was the one that hurt the most."
There was another long silence, and Sona noticed he had a white-knuckled grip on his cane, and his teeth were clenched.
"Her last word was 'Meat.' It was such an absurd thing to say, so... Sasha, that I couldn't help but laugh. From start to end, she was still the same girl who offered her comrades a piece of meat when they could die the next day. And I killed her."
"Did you love her?" Sona asked. There was no accusation in her voice.
"I did," Eren admitted as if saying it was confessing a sin. "I told you. I loved them all. I chose them over the entire world. Sasha. Connie. Historia... Even horse face." Sona didn't comment on the unique way he had said the third name and the pause that came after. Nor did she say anything about the... creative nickname for the last. "They were comrades. Friends. Family. I think I even loved Captain Levy and Hange in some small way. We were all that remained. You don't spend so long with people and not care for them. There were others. Daz. Floch. Even Samuel, who was on the wall that day with Sasha. I cared for them all. But..."
"But?"
"But I loved others more," Eren sighed, and it was like all the fight left him with that release of air. "And they would all have died if I didn't make a plan. And who knows how many of the others I cared about would have died without that plan. By killing Sasha, I got the last pieces I needed. Both of them, all for the price of one bullet. So I went through with it, knowing she and others would die, all because of me. All the while desperately hoping that I was wrong. That there was a perfect plan. A way to not lose anyone. But there is no perfect plan. So I killed Sasha and laughed and cried."
Sona could have said a lot of things then.
She could have tried to reassure him that he didn't have a choice, that his actions had been the right ones. She could have pointed out that the cold calculation he had done, the logical path he had followed, had been the right one. That lives had been saved because of his actions.
Sona didn't know if any of that was true. All she had to go on was a few pages in a file and what Eren told her.
Sona Sitri was not Rias Gremory. She was not the warm, almost dotting woman who would welcome a lost child into her family just because she could.
Sona Sitri was a young woman of logic. A dreamer with a plan.
And, as she thought this to herself, Sona realized something else.
She... probably would have done the same as Eren in that situation.
Of course, she loved her peerage. They were her friends, the closest thing to family she had besides her own. They looked up to her, trusted her judgement and leadership, and believed in her dream. In return, Sona wanted to do everything in her power to support them as well.
If something like what Eren described happened, she would have searched high and low and used every possible resource available to her, even those of a less savoury nature, to see them safely. She would have even given up her own life for them.
But...
If there truly was no other way...
Sona realized she would have made the same call as Eren. She would have sacrificed one of her friends to save the others.
At the end of the day, Sona Sitri would have sacrificed those she couldn't save to ensure the survival of those she could. It was a cold logic but one she could follow.
So Sona could not give Eren the encouraging yet empty platitudes that others could because she would have made the same call.
All Sona Sitri could give Eren was her hand over his, reminding him she was there as they sat silently on the bench.