It’s in The Haven’s district, on a street corner just before housing.
[ eren sends a sepia picture then, the first one is blurred with his talons in the way. the second is a better shot, of the store’s flora front and open porch at a corner while the rest of the street leads into apartment housing.
the third picture has half of eren’s armwing out to point at it. ]
[It's the first anyone has shared pictures with him over the device, and for a moment Itachi finds himself blinking at the sight of sharp talons. Then studying the last image, made curious by what he sees — how this man will appear outside the shifted form.]
Thank you.
[A simple, polite reply before he heads out early, pulling a thin black cloak over his shoulders despite the heat of the season.
Arriving prior to the half hour's agreement, Itachi doesn't approach the shop yet, spending this extra time walking the perimeter (like a paranoid crazy person...) to get a scope of the surroundings. Eventually satisfied, he goes to the porch, certain that even without a description he'll recognize the dragon.]
[ it is not difficult at all to spot the largest one in the establishment— luckily, the ceilings are high with dangling plant life from the open roof canopies overhead. illusion magic marks the entry of another customer with a personalized jingle for each, and the place already smells delightfully pleasant— as a tea shop should be.
eren himself had taken a trip down to the basement while he waited, with three minutes left before the half hour mark scaling back up stairs and to the front operation desk for a menu (then back out, to the porch; the weather was pleasant). luckily, no need for a grasp of the common aefenglom language; spells take care of that to simply get a picture, name and aroma of the product in the mind’s eye when considered.
the scent and taste of tea is common as he finishes scribbling something on a napkin, but his tongue captures the sharp tang of steel, of smoke and the distinct evocative magic of a witch that once rode his shoulders in a cursed dream of his recent past to bring his attention up. itachi has walked into the circumference of his senses, and as soon as the witch is visibly spotted, eren lifts his hand up, reserved, but— oddly unique. hello.
his crystal-blue horns and talons stick out like a sore thumb, along with the rest of him. ]
[Entering on the porch-side rather than the main doors, Itachi is awarded an immediate view of horns and ruddy scales, towering height a sore thumb in the thin outdoor crowd. Though not dissimilar to any other monstrous encounter on the city street — a daily occurrence he's since adjusted to — Eren is by far the most unique he's seen. Itachi simply looks at him for a moment, as if wanting a broader, whole-picture look before he's too close to get it.
So, Eren's wave is met with... what seems a long staring pause, until Itachi bows his head and approaches. He can see the creature he met in the dream plain as day: those colored scales, the horns, the talons, the spiny tail. Only it's all configured now onto an adult male, much like the one in the neck of the giant.
He takes the seat across from Eren, posture upright and expression placid, appearance utterly nondescript next to the dragon at the table. Then dark eyes flick down to the drawing.
Tea can wait.]
You visited my memories as well. [Itachi reaches out, setting fingertips on the edge of the napkin, like he might slide it away from Eren. His nails are painted a deep, glossy violet.] Where did you see this symbol?
[ then the dream was real. itachi is— peculiar and difficult to read, like looking at a slate of stone and needing to look even deep at fine, combing details to catch something meaningful. for the moment, he sees nothing, if only interest through body language. the paper , from the press of his own fingers, is guided further into the witch’s hand with a careful slide. ]
On a wall, in your home. [ he learned he had a brother, that his eyes could go bloodshot, among other things, out of context . . . that eren prefers not to use. it did feel a bit of like a similarity, though. or maybe the world was just full of perspectives and he was prone to wanting to see them in different angles. ] I wanted to let you know in person.
[ his voice is leveled, even, but not cold when he offers: ]
[As Eren pushes the etching his way, dark eyes linger on those sharp talons, ice-colored crystal memorably similar to structures he witnessed on the giant creature wreaking violent. Evidence further bridging the two together — as if the dream itself wasn't enough.]
... It's fine. There were others who crossed into my own mirror that night as well. [He simply wasn't caught in the process.] I imagine that was the case for most.
[Itachi smooths fingers over the paper fan, pressing it flat to the table.]
However, it seemed most of the memories were significant. Will you tell me the context of what you saw in my home?
[ eren remembers with clear detail, at least when it came to the ones that particularly interested him. the scenery of the home, the sounds and scents— it was all seemingly peaceful, like a little pocket of solace surrounded by blight from the outside. ]
You were with Sasuke. [ eren had some familiarity to pin the name with a face, and softly (almost satirical, since he could ironically relate), he repeats: ] “Being hated is what brothers are for”.
[ age just didn’t matter there. specifics on what he saw are now lessened once itachi knew where to pull the context from. placidly, eren finishes by bringing the menu between them whenever they’re actually ready to order. ]
[Those clues are more than enough. The memory is vivid, so perhaps that is why it was one of those featured in the dream. And though it came to no violence, nothing like Eren's massacre and battlefield, it had verged into personal and fraught territory nonetheless.]
My closest friend committed suicide. [His fingertip taps the napkin.] Or so was the story. In truth, he asked me to help him die. I did it. They weren't wrong for accusing me, but I was angry that they could not see past their suspicions and mistrust. And Shisui was dead because of that.
[It's no real confession with so many years laid bare between then and here. Yet it's still the first he's said this aloud, by choice, to another person, and the heavy significance of that has him frowning. There's no particular reason it should be Eren Jaeger. Comparing their memories, his own is a pale, small transgression.
Itachi's eyes skate over to the menu. For a moment he's unseeing; then he blinks, and refocuses to say flatly:]
[ dead because of that. it's an interesting set of words to use; even with offering aid in getting a friend to die be appalling to most (even to the dragon, if he were younger), eren knew there was far more context weaved in between to take it for what it superficially seemed to be. eren's mulls a response on his tongue, but before he could speak it, a question comes. a better look at the menu would reveal the three best sellers:
Adelheid's Heart: A floral, sweet tea. This is served with lemon and fresh honey, pairing well with tea biscuits. Easy to drink, even for those without a fondness for tea. Refreshing and said to always uplift one's spirits.
Enki's Ambition: A sharp, minty tea. Though it is served warm, it leaves a strangely cold feeling when swallowed. Soothing, all the same, and very brisk. Any congestion of the nose or throat is sure to be remedied by a cup of this. The ideal tea when in need of focus and clarity.
Ardric's Warmth: This tea is an absolute kick in the teeth. It's harsh and bitter. There's a spice to it that builds on itself, making it more and more difficult to drink in time. The caffeine is highly concentrated, there's no getting to sleep after a cup of this. Most people cough or wretch after a single sip, a sure sign that it's been well crafted. It's said to burn out illness and boost one's fortitude against curses.
eren's tongue flicks right at the image of the spiced tea on the enchanted menu before slipping back behind his teeth. he didn't mean to point it out that way, but the thought, image and aroma already made both sides of his jaws clench as they equally watered. ]
Ardric's Warmth. The hotter things are for me, the better. [ and, considering what had been said before— ] . . . Your home looked peaceful. [ looked. ] Did your MP always try to mask things?
[ because that's what it looked like, even when they questioned itachi. perhaps it's because eren holds little trust in any rule-holding group meant to keep the public peace— human tendency is to grasp for easy coming power and corrupt (and even that's . . . relative, haha). maybe its a military police thing that stretches across dimensions. ]
[It is the first saccharine taste that lures Itachi's attention, focusing on the menu with the concentration of someone intent to memorize (and eventually sample) every product on offer—a strange and meticulous hobby beholden to a great and secret appreciation for tea. At Eren's indication of the spicier option, his nose wrinkles delicately. He'll try that one another day.
That flicker of tongue earns a quick glance of curious, black eyes, even after it vanishes behind teeth. These animalistic behaviors still feel foreign; he's seen them so rarely up close.]
It was, then. [Peaceful for a time, even if he didn't live it.] Your own world appeared far less so.
[—if that memory was any promise of the everyday life Eren endured. Itachi's fingers curl over the napkin where the Uchiha fan still rests looking up at him, and he neatly folds it in half.]
The Military Police? That is... complicated. I can give you an answer, but perhaps we should make our purchases first. I will try this one. [And he taps the description of Adelheid's Heart.] Is the transaction done inside?
[ that sounds good to him. eren, for the most part, eases his back into his seat and tries to adjust his height; he ends up slouching, but it’s better than looking down on people. ]
After you’re ready to leave. [ which is—convenient! getting an order is rather easy when they’re ready. magic makes the process all the more easier. when the choices are fixed, the chaperones are made known, and serve their tea: ardric’s warmth and adelheid’s heart, respectively. ] They make it easier to settle back.
[ even though it’s hard for eren to relax at all, a permanent tension on his shoulders wrought from the home he was taken from. at least they don’t have to worry about breaking too much conversation that just got started— ardric’s warmth is on its way and eren can scent it by flicking tongue the second the brew come’s through the front door and to the porch.
It burns and his eyes water once the steam rises under his nose and they’re left with a grateful bow from their host (and look! they get cookies). ]
[The process is strange and nonintuitive to him, and he's watchful of it, eyes not soon to stray from their attendees until the tea is delivered to the table. Then he returns the intensity of that undying stare onto Eren; a peering look, direct and nonjudgmental, and seemingly a permanent fixture of his dark demeanor. As if hunting for those details: the slouch, the flicker of tongue, the color of scales.]
Magic has its conveniences, I see. [Outside combat as well, which is not an arena he's accustomed — nor is it one he's studied.] Even for those who are not skilled enough to become Witches.
[Itachi's attention lowers to the plate of cookies. His fingers flex as if to reach, then instead pass over the folded napkin, lying across it. Though his senses will certainly not compare to the dragon's, there is a... acerbic spiciness wafting from that other cup which briefly eclipses the glazed honey-sweet scent of his own.]
It was not only their doing. The village itself also held its own secrets out of sight, providing civilians the ease and illusion of a peaceful life, because it was unnecessary for them to know anything more. [The real sacrifices, the true darkness. His hand migrates to his own cup, but he simply holds it for a moment, feeling its heat.] Did your world often endure battles of the scale I witnessed?
[ the handle of eren's teacup goes ignored in favor of cupping its entirety like one would hold any cup. the hole was small to fit his fingers and talons he refuses to trim would make adjustments awkward (perhaps, its more comparable to the way drinkers hold their mugs and shot glasses at a tavern). the heat is less than a comforting tickle to the inside of his palm, and even with his visual lack of ettiquite— at least he doesn't slurp. he brings the cup's rim up to his lips, pauses to scent as well as listen with his eyes on the witch, then quietly adds: ]
. . . Sounds familiar.
[ he supposes it's human nature, again, to hide the horrors from others in an attempt to do better. he did it. in his own twisted way, and while that would commonly irk him, as he has also fallen victim to lies that only hindered him, it feels like something no world could escape from. an undisturbed expression says as much, finally sipping and allowing his eyes to cast to the brew at his lips.
it's vigorous, and as eren's mouth purses for the burn to even hit his gums (fantastic . . . fantastic), he does his best not to smack his tongue when the first wave of spice tingles and makes him wired. ]
For thousands of years. [ it would just keep happening until power was seized back and forth, stolen again and again and the worst game of telephone in the history of universes. ] The only thing time changed was the story behind it.
[It takes him a moment to reply, as if preferring to sit with what Eren's said and watch the steam curl off of their cups. There's no shock to learn of the violence inherent in other worlds, lifetimes away, hidden within dimensions utterly unreachable to him. Yet it is still disappointing.
Itachi finally takes a small sip from the teacup. The way he holds it is a contrast to the dragon's, but also not altogether proper: he ignores the handle to set fingertips delicately around the outer rim, just barely in contact with porcelain. He's used to a different style of tea-drinking, but this is fine, too. His eyes close briefly to savor the sweet flavor, otherwise stoic.]
Then our worlds aren't dissimilar, at least in their proclivity for battle. [Dark eyes settle on Eren, finding himself curious how that other brew must taste — it does look like he's enjoying it.] The creature you were inside... will you tell me more about it?
[ —that’s kind of how his captain drinks tea, for completely different reasons, he highly assumes (he’s heard rumors about levi breaking tea cups or something or other when holding the handle). it’s stills the dragon’s gaze enough to show through body language: it caught his attention and made his eyes fixate farther away for only a few seconds— thoughts and reminders. ]
They’re called Titans. [ hands setting the encircled tea cup down and farther out for space, eren gestures by holding his palms in opposite directions of each other. ] Only my race of people can turn into them— just mindless monsters that consume humans.
[ because that’s what they are, even if his tone holds the pinch of tired displeasure. facts are facts. ]
Except for the ones you saw. Those are conscious. There were supposed to be nine of them.
[Titans. This piece of information is satisfying, a name to a phenomenon, a frame of reference. So Eren is one of them, mindless enough to consume humans? He hadn't seemed that way when he fought. There seemed direction and intelligence, however base.
Still, looking the dragon over in another sweep of scrutiny—this was also someone who had slaughtered countless civilians in that dream.]
What was it that made them conscious? And you say "supposed to be." Were the others killed?
[Itachi does, finally, reach for one of those cookies. It gets dipped into the tea and brought to his mouth. He chews silently and thoroughly, mouth closed, before swallowing.]
[ two thousand years worth of history is condensed into only a few sentences; he allows a pause to settle, to search for a proper and quick way to explain without running his mouth, eren cants his head and reaches for a cookie as well. tongue first. ]
There used to be only one, they called her The Founder. [ when eren speaks— he does not speak with reverence or disdain. even when his tone is evenly held, there seems to be a touch of personal sympathy. ] Her power split apart after her people were forced to consume her by their Monarch.
[ it’s unclear if he’s demonstrating, or simply eating the way he usually does when he begins breaking the cookie in his hands apart into a few separate pieces. ]
Mindless titans do that instinctually, in hopes of eating a Shifter and changing back. A Shifter passes down their powers that way, [ eren shoulder raises, ] as a family lineage, or in a planned regime, [ finally, a piece or two are popped into his mouth, swallowed first before speaking, ] or they can be taken by force by another Shifter.
[ and that was why the warhammer titan had called him usurper. ]
[Forced to consume her, a phrase his mind lingers on as Eren goes on to answer what is likely a complicated question. Already he senses himself grasping at holes in an unknown narrative, simply because the context and history both run so deep. Itachi takes everything at face value, and listens, accepting what's said.
Dark eyes linger on the flicker of a tongue as that cookie is taken. The topic of conversation is set at such odds with the peace of their surroundings—the summer warmth, the tea, serenity in the idle cafe-chatter from inside and passersby on the street.]
Those titans are formidable foes in size alone. I expect they would wreak havoc in any setting where its people are unable to fight back. And the strength that you were capable of wielding in that battle was considerable. [What a bleak world. At least in his own, anyone has the potential to utilize chakra and defend themselves—technically—though some are at great advantage.
He hasn't forgotten those Eren killed in the dream. It simply isn't his place to evaluate any sort of judgment, at least outwardly. War... isn't that exactly what he witnessed?]
How long have you lived here in Aefenglom? By your transformation alone, it seems a length of time. You also behave... familiarly, with everything.
[ the cookies melted in his mouth, sugary and light— complete opposites when it came to his words, and he decides to take another hand at his tea to consume the taste with torrid spice. good. sensory chaos.
he uses a correct keyword, at least, and hums in agreement as the tea slides down his throat; unable to fight back. if they were trained or had the weaponry, well— it could splatter his greymatter across a city street. growing up with the training to fight them, as the young woman in his dreams wielding explosive spears and knowing exactly where to attack, was the very information to prove a human's capabilities even against a giant. but that was a parallel story; maybe, or maybe not, for another time. ]
It's been a little more than a year. [ transformation complete with only gradual escalation of what he already had— his scales earn newer colors depending on the emotion when once limited to two ranges. he gets the same headaches he did when his horns began to grow. his changed, digitigrade legs ache with growing pains closer to the heel joint when he rests, and the same went for his wings. his spines grow longer, thicker, and his senses more in tune. ] But time flows differently here, when the mirrors call you back. I arrived when I was sixteen, [ he shrugs a shoulder in estimation, ] seventeen at most. I'm twenty now.
[That length of time is nothing to disregard. Itachi's eyes level across the table, considering the weight of this information as it's given to him. His own return to his mug of tea is slower—savoring, tasting, analyzing.]
I see. A year, yet there's a leap of time in between where you aged in your own world. I wasn't aware that could happen. [It won't occur in his own case, Itachi suspects, unless it's possible to go backward. But that's a difficult possibility to imagine. Not one he necessary likes.] You did seem... different, in that memory. Not as you are now, and not only in appearance.
[Was Eren younger? He isn't certain simply due to his unfamiliarity with the dragon and the transformation itself.]
[ mm, at first, an actual grunt at most. there were a lot of factors that made his appearance seem different in comparison to being nineteen in liberio— he wasn't clean-shaven, he was rather disheveled and missing a shoe, living under a guise for nine months. he looked far older than he was through the tired grimness in his gaze alone. he was also . . . focused and detached to keep the afterthoughts at bay and the desolation even farther. had that been it, or was he looking to deep? ]
I've had time to think since then. [ maybe . . . that was it. both going through another handful of months in experience back and the times spent here. the question's true answer only follows after a pause to gather the aftertaste of spice from his gums to his lips. ] They don't compare.
[ it's actually peaceful and possibilities of life range farther, even with talam's problems. but there are solutions and a beautiful future waiting. that was talam though, and he's happy for talam. it's better than his, if it were true, but his home had beauty stolen. he had to take what he wanted to see back. ]
Even if I did— I can't stay here. Not yet. [ if that's how the afterlife works, which he knows plenty of friends who have already met their ends and have no home to return to, ] Is it different for you?
[ eren only considers asking because— it was a rather specific question. one he didn't mind answering, as hardly anything feels like it should be kept secret, truly, but. there are reasons for them. ]
[There's nothing truly shocking about that answer. Itachi eyes study the dragon for a moment longer, then turn down into the pale color of his tea, a green like young spring. The sweetness lingers on his tongue when he takes another sweet—a bit too strong. It dilutes the natural flavor, in his mind.
They don't compare. Eren's words are certain, coaxing his attention up from the tea.]
That isn't an unusual sentiment. Most places seem widely different from Geardagas, my own world among them, and our presence here is an interruption. We had little choice in it, after all.
[And more interesting is that 'not yet'. He wonders what it applies to, whether it suggests hopes for the future—for eventually. And him?]
All I have to return to is death. [A final statement, as certain as Eren's response.] That said, it's where I belong. Not in this realm. [Except perhaps as he may be useful to Sasuke; this he doesn't admit, mind still dwelling over it restlessly himself.] Staying here isn't a permanent option I'd wish to entertain.
[ at the same time— eren doesn’t know of what to think at the possibility of staying here permanently. he was well established, elders treated him like a grandson and he’s made more relationships than he could count. what would happen when he’d begin to age the way a dragon does? he’d last for centuries in comparison to his four lasting years of life. he’d outlast every witch and every monster if his health was intact.
sometimes he doesn’t know what he’d do with all that time to spare, and as self destructive as he was, he’d find a way to cut it short. it’s something he could . . . resonate with, if not feel completely undecided and restless with it himself.
itachi is not the first he has met who has already left the living; as far as “second chances” go, he’s understanding of the completed sentiment: that’s where i belong. the dragon, when affirming the taste of tea, also thinks himself undeserving of being here and starting again. when he’s gone, he should be gone (until he finds a proper reason to keep moving). ]
It’s saying something. I never had the habit of drinking tea in the first place before these. [ it’s just. that good. eren pushes his tea cup just an inch with his fingertips, ] If you’re curious.
[ the demon of all teas was good for burning everything out of one’s system. strong and unrelenting, a charge of energy, and one eren wouldn’t mind sharing even a drop. despite that and while he waits, he muses softly: ]
. . . We’re not far off from each other.
[ in terms of only having death to return to—? what a topic to bond over. ]
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[Five minutes pass, long enough for Itachi to realize he hadn't asked—]
Where is it located?
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[ eren sends a sepia picture then, the first one is blurred with his talons in the way. the second is a better shot, of the store’s flora front and open porch at a corner while the rest of the street leads into apartment housing.
the third picture has half of eren’s armwing out to point at it. ]
There.
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Thank you.
[A simple, polite reply before he heads out early, pulling a thin black cloak over his shoulders despite the heat of the season.
Arriving prior to the half hour's agreement, Itachi doesn't approach the shop yet, spending this extra time walking the perimeter (like a paranoid crazy person...) to get a scope of the surroundings. Eventually satisfied, he goes to the porch, certain that even without a description he'll recognize the dragon.]
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eren himself had taken a trip down to the basement while he waited, with three minutes left before the half hour mark scaling back up stairs and to the front operation desk for a menu (then back out, to the porch; the weather was pleasant). luckily, no need for a grasp of the common aefenglom language; spells take care of that to simply get a picture, name and aroma of the product in the mind’s eye when considered.
the scent and taste of tea is common as he finishes scribbling something on a napkin, but his tongue captures the sharp tang of steel, of smoke and the distinct evocative magic of a witch that once rode his shoulders in a cursed dream of his recent past to bring his attention up. itachi has walked into the circumference of his senses, and as soon as the witch is visibly spotted, eren lifts his hand up, reserved, but— oddly unique. hello.
his crystal-blue horns and talons stick out like a sore thumb, along with the rest of him. ]
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So, Eren's wave is met with... what seems a long staring pause, until Itachi bows his head and approaches. He can see the creature he met in the dream plain as day: those colored scales, the horns, the talons, the spiny tail. Only it's all configured now onto an adult male, much like the one in the neck of the giant.
He takes the seat across from Eren, posture upright and expression placid, appearance utterly nondescript next to the dragon at the table. Then dark eyes flick down to the drawing.
Tea can wait.]
You visited my memories as well. [Itachi reaches out, setting fingertips on the edge of the napkin, like he might slide it away from Eren. His nails are painted a deep, glossy violet.] Where did you see this symbol?
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On a wall, in your home. [ he learned he had a brother, that his eyes could go bloodshot, among other things, out of context . . . that eren prefers not to use. it did feel a bit of like a similarity, though. or maybe the world was just full of perspectives and he was prone to wanting to see them in different angles. ] I wanted to let you know in person.
[ his voice is leveled, even, but not cold when he offers: ]
It wasn’t my intention.
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... It's fine. There were others who crossed into my own mirror that night as well. [He simply wasn't caught in the process.] I imagine that was the case for most.
[Itachi smooths fingers over the paper fan, pressing it flat to the table.]
However, it seemed most of the memories were significant. Will you tell me the context of what you saw in my home?
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You were with Sasuke. [ eren had some familiarity to pin the name with a face, and softly (almost satirical, since he could ironically relate), he repeats: ] “Being hated is what brothers are for”.
[ age just didn’t matter there. specifics on what he saw are now lessened once itachi knew where to pull the context from. placidly, eren finishes by bringing the menu between them whenever they’re actually ready to order. ]
Then you were accused.
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My closest friend committed suicide. [His fingertip taps the napkin.] Or so was the story. In truth, he asked me to help him die. I did it. They weren't wrong for accusing me, but I was angry that they could not see past their suspicions and mistrust. And Shisui was dead because of that.
[It's no real confession with so many years laid bare between then and here. Yet it's still the first he's said this aloud, by choice, to another person, and the heavy significance of that has him frowning. There's no particular reason it should be Eren Jaeger. Comparing their memories, his own is a pale, small transgression.
Itachi's eyes skate over to the menu. For a moment he's unseeing; then he blinks, and refocuses to say flatly:]
Do you have a type of tea you prefer here?
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eren's tongue flicks right at the image of the spiced tea on the enchanted menu before slipping back behind his teeth. he didn't mean to point it out that way, but the thought, image and aroma already made both sides of his jaws clench as they equally watered. ]
Ardric's Warmth. The hotter things are for me, the better. [ and, considering what had been said before— ] . . . Your home looked peaceful. [ looked. ] Did your MP always try to mask things?
[ because that's what it looked like, even when they questioned itachi. perhaps it's because eren holds little trust in any rule-holding group meant to keep the public peace— human tendency is to grasp for easy coming power and corrupt (and even that's . . . relative, haha). maybe its a military police thing that stretches across dimensions. ]
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That flicker of tongue earns a quick glance of curious, black eyes, even after it vanishes behind teeth. These animalistic behaviors still feel foreign; he's seen them so rarely up close.]
It was, then. [Peaceful for a time, even if he didn't live it.] Your own world appeared far less so.
[—if that memory was any promise of the everyday life Eren endured. Itachi's fingers curl over the napkin where the Uchiha fan still rests looking up at him, and he neatly folds it in half.]
The Military Police? That is... complicated. I can give you an answer, but perhaps we should make our purchases first. I will try this one. [And he taps the description of Adelheid's Heart.] Is the transaction done inside?
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After you’re ready to leave. [ which is—convenient! getting an order is rather easy when they’re ready. magic makes the process all the more easier. when the choices are fixed, the chaperones are made known, and serve their tea: ardric’s warmth and adelheid’s heart, respectively. ] They make it easier to settle back.
[ even though it’s hard for eren to relax at all, a permanent tension on his shoulders wrought from the home he was taken from. at least they don’t have to worry about breaking too much conversation that just got started— ardric’s warmth is on its way and eren can scent it by flicking tongue the second the brew come’s through the front door and to the porch.
It burns and his eyes water once the steam rises under his nose and they’re left with a grateful bow from their host (and look! they get cookies). ]
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Magic has its conveniences, I see. [Outside combat as well, which is not an arena he's accustomed — nor is it one he's studied.] Even for those who are not skilled enough to become Witches.
[Itachi's attention lowers to the plate of cookies. His fingers flex as if to reach, then instead pass over the folded napkin, lying across it. Though his senses will certainly not compare to the dragon's, there is a... acerbic spiciness wafting from that other cup which briefly eclipses the glazed honey-sweet scent of his own.]
It was not only their doing. The village itself also held its own secrets out of sight, providing civilians the ease and illusion of a peaceful life, because it was unnecessary for them to know anything more. [The real sacrifices, the true darkness. His hand migrates to his own cup, but he simply holds it for a moment, feeling its heat.] Did your world often endure battles of the scale I witnessed?
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. . . Sounds familiar.
[ he supposes it's human nature, again, to hide the horrors from others in an attempt to do better. he did it. in his own twisted way, and while that would commonly irk him, as he has also fallen victim to lies that only hindered him, it feels like something no world could escape from. an undisturbed expression says as much, finally sipping and allowing his eyes to cast to the brew at his lips.
it's vigorous, and as eren's mouth purses for the burn to even hit his gums (fantastic . . . fantastic), he does his best not to smack his tongue when the first wave of spice tingles and makes him wired. ]
For thousands of years. [ it would just keep happening until power was seized back and forth, stolen again and again and the worst game of telephone in the history of universes. ] The only thing time changed was the story behind it.
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Itachi finally takes a small sip from the teacup. The way he holds it is a contrast to the dragon's, but also not altogether proper: he ignores the handle to set fingertips delicately around the outer rim, just barely in contact with porcelain. He's used to a different style of tea-drinking, but this is fine, too. His eyes close briefly to savor the sweet flavor, otherwise stoic.]
Then our worlds aren't dissimilar, at least in their proclivity for battle. [Dark eyes settle on Eren, finding himself curious how that other brew must taste — it does look like he's enjoying it.] The creature you were inside... will you tell me more about it?
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They’re called Titans. [ hands setting the encircled tea cup down and farther out for space, eren gestures by holding his palms in opposite directions of each other. ] Only my race of people can turn into them— just mindless monsters that consume humans.
[ because that’s what they are, even if his tone holds the pinch of tired displeasure. facts are facts. ]
Except for the ones you saw. Those are conscious. There were supposed to be nine of them.
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Still, looking the dragon over in another sweep of scrutiny—this was also someone who had slaughtered countless civilians in that dream.]
What was it that made them conscious? And you say "supposed to be." Were the others killed?
[Itachi does, finally, reach for one of those cookies. It gets dipped into the tea and brought to his mouth. He chews silently and thoroughly, mouth closed, before swallowing.]
cw for cannibalism
There used to be only one, they called her The Founder. [ when eren speaks— he does not speak with reverence or disdain. even when his tone is evenly held, there seems to be a touch of personal sympathy. ] Her power split apart after her people were forced to consume her by their Monarch.
[ it’s unclear if he’s demonstrating, or simply eating the way he usually does when he begins breaking the cookie in his hands apart into a few separate pieces. ]
Mindless titans do that instinctually, in hopes of eating a Shifter and changing back. A Shifter passes down their powers that way, [ eren shoulder raises, ] as a family lineage, or in a planned regime, [ finally, a piece or two are popped into his mouth, swallowed first before speaking, ] or they can be taken by force by another Shifter.
[ and that was why the warhammer titan had called him usurper. ]
There’re six, now.
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Dark eyes linger on the flicker of a tongue as that cookie is taken. The topic of conversation is set at such odds with the peace of their surroundings—the summer warmth, the tea, serenity in the idle cafe-chatter from inside and passersby on the street.]
Those titans are formidable foes in size alone. I expect they would wreak havoc in any setting where its people are unable to fight back. And the strength that you were capable of wielding in that battle was considerable. [What a bleak world. At least in his own, anyone has the potential to utilize chakra and defend themselves—technically—though some are at great advantage.
He hasn't forgotten those Eren killed in the dream. It simply isn't his place to evaluate any sort of judgment, at least outwardly. War... isn't that exactly what he witnessed?]
How long have you lived here in Aefenglom? By your transformation alone, it seems a length of time. You also behave... familiarly, with everything.
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he uses a correct keyword, at least, and hums in agreement as the tea slides down his throat; unable to fight back. if they were trained or had the weaponry, well— it could splatter his greymatter across a city street. growing up with the training to fight them, as the young woman in his dreams wielding explosive spears and knowing exactly where to attack, was the very information to prove a human's capabilities even against a giant. but that was a parallel story; maybe, or maybe not, for another time. ]
It's been a little more than a year. [ transformation complete with only gradual escalation of what he already had— his scales earn newer colors depending on the emotion when once limited to two ranges. he gets the same headaches he did when his horns began to grow. his changed, digitigrade legs ache with growing pains closer to the heel joint when he rests, and the same went for his wings. his spines grow longer, thicker, and his senses more in tune. ] But time flows differently here, when the mirrors call you back. I arrived when I was sixteen, [ he shrugs a shoulder in estimation, ] seventeen at most. I'm twenty now.
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I see. A year, yet there's a leap of time in between where you aged in your own world. I wasn't aware that could happen. [It won't occur in his own case, Itachi suspects, unless it's possible to go backward. But that's a difficult possibility to imagine. Not one he necessary likes.] You did seem... different, in that memory. Not as you are now, and not only in appearance.
[Was Eren younger? He isn't certain simply due to his unfamiliarity with the dragon and the transformation itself.]
Do you prefer it? Being here as opposed to home.
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I've had time to think since then. [ maybe . . . that was it. both going through another handful of months in experience back and the times spent here. the question's true answer only follows after a pause to gather the aftertaste of spice from his gums to his lips. ] They don't compare.
[ it's actually peaceful and possibilities of life range farther, even with talam's problems. but there are solutions and a beautiful future waiting. that was talam though, and he's happy for talam. it's better than his, if it were true, but his home had beauty stolen. he had to take what he wanted to see back. ]
Even if I did— I can't stay here. Not yet. [ if that's how the afterlife works, which he knows plenty of friends who have already met their ends and have no home to return to, ] Is it different for you?
[ eren only considers asking because— it was a rather specific question. one he didn't mind answering, as hardly anything feels like it should be kept secret, truly, but. there are reasons for them. ]
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They don't compare. Eren's words are certain, coaxing his attention up from the tea.]
That isn't an unusual sentiment. Most places seem widely different from Geardagas, my own world among them, and our presence here is an interruption. We had little choice in it, after all.
[And more interesting is that 'not yet'. He wonders what it applies to, whether it suggests hopes for the future—for eventually. And him?]
All I have to return to is death. [A final statement, as certain as Eren's response.] That said, it's where I belong. Not in this realm. [Except perhaps as he may be useful to Sasuke; this he doesn't admit, mind still dwelling over it restlessly himself.] Staying here isn't a permanent option I'd wish to entertain.
[He takes another sip from the rim of the cup.]
... The tea here is surprisingly good.
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sometimes he doesn’t know what he’d do with all that time to spare, and as self destructive as he was, he’d find a way to cut it short. it’s something he could . . . resonate with, if not feel completely undecided and restless with it himself.
itachi is not the first he has met who has already left the living; as far as “second chances” go, he’s understanding of the completed sentiment: that’s where i belong. the dragon, when affirming the taste of tea, also thinks himself undeserving of being here and starting again. when he’s gone, he should be gone (until he finds a proper reason to keep moving). ]
It’s saying something. I never had the habit of drinking tea in the first place before these. [ it’s just. that good. eren pushes his tea cup just an inch with his fingertips, ] If you’re curious.
[ the demon of all teas was good for burning everything out of one’s system. strong and unrelenting, a charge of energy, and one eren wouldn’t mind sharing even a drop. despite that and while he waits, he muses softly: ]
. . . We’re not far off from each other.
[ in terms of only having death to return to—? what a topic to bond over. ]
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