Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Dangerous Territory	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Attack on Titan /Shingeki No Kyojin Views: 4227 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own “Shingeki no Kyojin” and do not make money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 64
- 65
- 66
Chapter 65
Yom Kippur Miracle
The lieutenants all headed downstairs and out into the rain. To the south, faintly but still audible, Eren heard the unmistakable sound of bombing and came to a stop.
“Has the battle begun?”
Oliver patted his shoulder. “You really must have been out of it all day! The Allies have been trying to drop bombs on Feste Kronprinz. In this weather, they’re completely missing their target.”
Greiz quipped, “Maybe they’ll miss, hit the Americans, and do our job for us.”
The others laughed, and they continued onward.
They went to a beer hall not too far away. It was already filled with soldiers singing and drinking. Eren found himself relaxing after a hearty meal and a few beers. He began to sing with the men, enjoying the camaraderie late into the night. He looked around at the merrymaking and wondered if any of them knew that, for Jews, this was a holiday of solemn prayer and fasting. Probably not, or any who did would never dare admit they knew that much about Jews.
“I heard Colt helped in the questioning,” Jean mentioned casually to Eren.
Eren pulled himself out of his thoughts. “Huh? Officer Grice? Yes, he was taking notes for Kriminaldirektor Magath. Do you know him?”
“We’re old friends.”
Surma muttered into his stein of beer, “Friends with a member of the Gestapo? That’s bold.”
“More like, I knew him when he was in diapers,” Jean elaborated. “Our fathers were childhood best friends.”
Eren said, “He told me he was from Stuttgart. Aren’t you from Saarbrücken?”
“My father is originally from Stuttgart. He left a job with Mercedes-Benz and moved to Saarbrücken because my mother refused to leave her hometown.” He shook his head and grumbled into his beer. “Honestly, I don’t think I would do that for a woman. Move somewhere just to be with her? That’s crazy.”
Move somewhere just to be with someone … Eren smiled to himself as he thought about Levi’s offer, that after the war, rather than just meeting up in New York, he could move there and be near him.
Oliver gave a deep grunt of disapproval. “A woman should move to where the man needs to be, not a man moving because the woman says so. Your father was tied to a leash before he even took vows.”
Jean shrugged casually, not refuting that idea. “He always said, no Swabian woman could match my mother’s cooking. I have to admit, if a woman cooked as good as my mother and I had nothing else tying me down, I might be tempted to move just so I could eat well.”
“It’s one of two things women are good for,” Daz said with a laugh. “Cooking and fucking.”
Ian rolled his eyes at the crudity but stayed quiet.
“Colt and I only really saw each other around midsummer and Christmas. We lost touch after his parents died, so seeing him here was a great stroke of luck. It’s funny to see how he turned out. A Gestapo! I guess I can imagine that. We used to play hide-and-seek, and he didn’t just run around wildly like most kids. He searched for clues! What five-year-old does that?”
Eren’s brow tightened. Hearing that Colt was that intuitive worried him. It really was a miracle he had not noticed Levi was living with him.
Or was Levi that good at avoiding detection? It was like an adventure novel: the Spy versus the Detective.
Samuel had a deep pinch between his brows, and Eren noticed. “Is something wrong?” he asked the young lieutenant.
Ian told him, “If you’re going to throw up, do it outside.”
“No,” Samuel muttered. “All this talk about the Gestapo … I once got detained by them.”
“You?” they all shouted, and everyone eagerly leaned in, wanting to hear more.
“It wasn’t like I did anything wrong,” he said defensively, looking around at all of them in a panic. “I was a child! It wasn’t me!”
“What happened?” Holger asked excitedly.
Samuel frowned, not liking the memory. “My parents went on a vacation to the Alps, so I stayed with my grandparents. One day, the house was suddenly stormed by the Gestapo. I was held aside as my grandparents were taken away, and then the Gestapo dragged dozens of Jews out of the basement. They looked so dirty, and they were screaming something not quite German.”
“Yiddish,” Eren muttered under his breath, but none of the others heard him. He recalled the day he opened that closet door and saw Levi huddled with the Jews. After he left, they had been dragged out of that building. Some struggled, and he had even heard gunshots, so perhaps one was killed for resisting. He had not watched that part, too busy dragging Levi away, but it was probably a similar scene, scared and unwashed people being dragged out, half-blinded by sudden sunlight after hiding for their lives in the dark for days.
Greiz sneered in disgust. “A basement full of rats! How revolting!”
“Did you know they were there?” asked Wim.
“No, not at all, and that’s what the Gestapo wanted to know. There were so many Jews down there, they thought my entire family must have been involved. So I was taken along with my grandparents and held in a prison for two days before my parents came to get me. My mother vehemently denied knowing about her parents hiding Jews, and she turned against them.”
“Good,” Greiz huffed. “The older generation bowing to the Jews is how Germany got into this mess in the first place. Your mother is wiser than that, and she raised an even better son.”
“So what happened?” asked Surma.
“My parents were cleared of any wrongdoing, but my grandparents were sentenced to death.”
Some around the table nodded in approval, while a few whispered that this was harsh for two old people. Eren looked ahead stricken. If he was caught hiding Levi … would he be sentenced to death as well?
“And the Jews?” asked Holger.
Samuel’s eyes flared in rage. “Who cares about them?” he shouted. “I hope they were all shot! For tempting my grandparents into betraying their own blood, their proud Aryan heritage, and making my mother suffer like that, I want to kill them all!”
Eren jolted. He had heard those words before.
No … he had said those words.

“A royal British whore seduced my father, stole him from me, and because he left us, my mother was killed. So yes, I hate them. I want to kill them all.”

Was he any different than Samuel, filled with bitterness after a childhood trauma?
Feeling anxious and sick, Eren suddenly stood up. “I’m heading back.”
“So soon?” said Daz. “I thought we were heading to Madame Carly’s.”
“You men can go on ahead,” Eren said, pulling on his coat.
Jean grabbed his wrist. He knew Eren well enough to know these stories about the Gestapo were making him anxious. “Weren’t you going to introduce me to one of the girls there?”
“Oh! Do you have a favorite?” Daz asked eagerly.
Eren saw in Jean’s sharp gaze, that was the whole purpose of dragging him out here. It was a way for him to get matched up with the girl who was meant to be Levi’s body double. Eren realized that this was Jean’s way of showing he was willing to help him, even though it meant freeing a Jew.
“Right,” he muttered. “Well then, we should get going, or Holger is going to pass out drunk.”
“I’m not drunk!” the young lieutenant insisted, although as he stood he began to wobble.
Ian finished his beer. “I’m heading back.”
“You don’t want a girl?” Daz asked as if challenging him.
Ian’s ice blue eyes stared hard at him. “I have a wife. She’s enough.” He walked up next to Eren, leaned in close, and whispered in a warning, “Remember, be careful out there.”
“I will,” Eren promised.
Then Ian turned and left.
Daz shook his head. “Damn, some men get married and their dicks shrink. Don’t get like that, Jäger.”
Eren laughed awkwardly. “Well, once I find my wife, I’ll be sure to give her a thorough welcome home.”
The men laughed and headed out, rowdy and pushing away any Frenchmen who got too close. Jean stayed near Eren, and the two shared a silent glance.
Their mission had begun.
* * *
Ian Dietrich walked with militant stiffness. Coming from an old German family that traced back to medieval knights, he had been raised to be a soldier, just like his father and grandfather before him. After the discipline of his childhood, he had assumed all German officers were equally as serious. So seeing the officers here disgusted him. Drinking and whoring! They were a disgrace to Germany.
Eren Jäger was the biggest disappointment of all, mostly because Ian had such high hopes for him at the beginning.
Before Eren’s platoon joined their company, Ian had heard nothing but praise about the man: raised by a German officer like himself, practically legendary in the Battle of Anzio, a man who could quote Hitler and was so well-known for not hiring prostitutes that some of his soldiers teased that perhaps he liked men. Foolish gossiping! Only weak men needed the testosterone boost of frequent sex.
Then they met. Brown hair, not blond: that was acceptable, Hitler himself was not blond. Softness in his cheeks: Eren was only nineteen, so that youthful visage would go away soon enough. A strong handshake: raw power was also useful for an officer.
He smoked, though. A disgusting addiction, one Ian often told him to quit, and Eren shrugged it off. Eren also prayed a lot. Useless! Unlike Jews who had to pray to their God to win battles, a strong race like Aryans did not need some mythical deity to win wars. Intelligence and discipline always beat superstition and prayers.
Despite those flaws, Eren was sharp at planning a battle. He could read a map right away and came up with suggestions that were nothing less than brilliant. When they attacked the village and the artillery started, Eren was in his element. He was a natural leader, and his platoon moved fluidly and efficiently. Ian’s opinion of him improved. He could forgive his lack of pure Aryan traits, youth, bad habits, and superstition, so long as he was a strong officer who led his men to victory.
That brief moment of approval began to change when Eren convinced Captain Woermann to let the Jews work as servants rather than kill them. Ian tried to be rational. After all, it was written in The Art of War, “The captured soldiers should be kindly treated and kept. This is called, using the conquered foe to augment one’s own strength.”
The Jews were not soldiers, but Eren’s logic of using them to relieve soldiers from cleaning tasks so they could reserve their strength had merit. It gave the company a tactical advantage, so Ian decided to tolerate it. If some of his men wanted to rape and beat up the Jews, though, he turned a blind eye.
Ian wanted to see if Eren’s style of leadership was something from which he could learn. Everything in war was a learning experience, and a wise commander remained flexible in his tactics (another wise passage from The Art of War). However, Eren’s excessive compassion for the prisoners and frequent hesitations showed a man without the discipline needed to be a successful officer. The day Eren whipped a Jew, Ian was honestly proud of him, only to hear a whisper that Eren had gone into the dungeon to heal the same Jew he hurt. Pathetic!
In private, he urged Captain Woermann to be harder on Eren, hoping to purge that weakness out of him. The captain let Ian in on a secret: Eren’s mother had been part Jewish and was killed by a S.A. squad for her filthy blood. They both concluded that this was the reason he showed so much pity for the Jews, and for a few months that summer they both succeeded in keeping Eren away from them, busy with other tasks.
Particularly, Ian wanted to keep Eren away from that translator. Captain Woermann did not notice what Ian instinctively did: that man, tiny as he was, had the eyes of a killer, and Ian was tempted to shoot him every time their paths crossed.
The day of the massacre in the dungeon, Ian had wanted to shoot Levi right after killing the Resistance woman, but Captain Woermann stopped him. Then Eren arrived, and Woermann gave him the choice to stick to his conscience or shoot some random Jew to save the translator. After they left Eren to simmer in shock at shooting a civilian, Ian warned Woermann, that particular Jew was dangerous. Leaving him in Eren’s hands where he could escape was sure to cause trouble.
Kitz Woermann confessed that he felt the bigger threat was Eren himself. A Jew was just some subhuman creature, but a German officer who sympathized with Jews could corrupt those around him. He knew Eren was close to that particular Jew, which was why he had not planned to shoot him, purely so Eren would let him go free, and that would be more than enough reason to execute him as a traitor. When Ian asked why he felt he needed an excuse, especially since they all knew he shot Marlo Freudenberg without a trial, Woermann said he learned the hard way not to kill officers frivolously.
Despite that, Eren made it all the way to Metz with the Jew in tow, and he claimed he shot him after they arrived. Ian doubted this, so he asked a random member of Eren’s platoon, some young soldier named Armin Arlelt, who confirmed that Eren had shot the Jew after his arrival.
Ian still kept an eye on him, but nothing had seemed amiss. He was a respected leader, his platoon was the best disciplined in the company, and his medals were well-earned. In that, Ian wanted to support him, and he even recommended him for another Iron Cross after Eren scouted ahead of the company, got shot by Americans, but continued to ride despite his wound. True bravery on the battlefield should be rewarded. If Eren could be an asset to Germany, that was what mattered.
But only if he was purely an asset.
As he climbed the hotel stairs, Ian looked down at the key he had swiped off Eren. Growing up, he had only one streak of naughtiness: pickpocketing. Not to steal; he had plenty of money. To him, it was a game of stealth. However, at a dinner party at the Dietrich family estate, he tried to steal an Iron Cross medal off of Ernst Röhm. The Sturmabteilung leader caught him and nearly crushed his wrist. Humiliated in front of Adolf Hitler’s closest friend, his father beat Ian with his belt and then forced him to march naked in the rain across a gravel lawn path for an entire night. When he was sent to Napola, he started up again, targeting classmates and teachers, always returning the items right away, pretending they were merely dropped, sometimes getting praises for being an upstanding citizen. In fact, it was how he managed to strike up a conversation with the girl who later became his wife.
This time, he told himself, he was using the skill in order to follow his intuition. Wasn’t that a sign of a good officer?
The Lieutenant’s Floor was empty. The men were either already asleep or out at the brothel. He walked up to Eren’s door and brought out the key. Suddenly, he thought he heard a noise and looked sharply to the left. He saw nothing and waited just a few seconds to make sure he really was alone. Hearing no other sounds, he fitted the key in and opened the door.
Ian stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He turned a light on and scanned the entrance. He glanced into the bathroom. It still faintly smelled of lavender. What man used lavender in their bath water? However, he saw nothing amiss. There were even makeup containers, a woman’s hairbrush, and two toothbrushes by the sink. If Louise had purposely fled, she would have packed her toiletries.
He walked deeper into the main room and looked around for anything suspicious. He slowly opened the wardrobe. Uniforms were neatly hung up, undergarments folded, spare boots polished, and a few dresses on hangers that he guessed belonged to Louise.
He walked around the bed, saw a tea set to the side, and picked up the cups. Two cups, recently used, a little bit of tea still staining the bottoms. He looked at the bed, but it had been neatly made, the sheets as stiff as if the maids had recently been there. At least Eren was a tidy soldier.
Then he got down on one knee to look under the bed. He reached for his torch, turned it on, and shined the beam of light into the cavernous darkness.
Nothing. Only some gear.
Ian got up and looked around some more. He saw a Bible set out next to the bed on the nightstand. Religious superstition! He opened up drawers but saw only basic supplies. There was nothing at all suspicious.
Except one thing.
Lying on top of the nightstand was the pearl ring. Ian picked it up and turned it around between his fingers. This was the same ring that Eren gave to Louise on the day they married. If she merely ran away, why would her wedding ring be there? They had been coming back from a romantic dinner when Eren was drugged. Surely, she would have worn her wedding ring on such a night. If she merely ran away because she got spooked, why leave her ring behind?
He set the ring back down and glared around once more. A wedding ring was not enough evidence, and he did not want to bother the Gestapo with a mere suspicion. He decided he would keep an eye on Eren Jäger. If that wife of his came back, he would march her to the Gestapo headquarters himself, and if she was still missing after a few days, then he would voice his concerns.
Ian left and locked the room behind him. He went down to the hotel foyer and took a seat, waiting for Eren to arrive so he could give him back his key.
* * *
Meanwhile, up in the attic, Levi sat by the hatch with his knife clenched in his hand, barely even breathing to stay quiet.
He could not explain it. He had been praying under the bed, enjoying the peace and quiet, when something slammed into his head. A warning.
Get into the attic, now!
He had not questioned it. He hurried out from under the bed, grabbed his bag, used his crutches to help get himself up.
Your book!
He grabbed his bag from under the bed and shoved the Tanakh and black shirt inside. Then he saw that the blankets were a mess. Anyone would know two people were recently there.
Straighten them up!
He quickly made the bed, smoothed the covers, and removed any signs of two people having been there. Then, feeling a growing sense of hurry, hurry, hurry, he hoisted his bag up onto his shoulders and hopped on his crutches over to stand right under the attic hatch.
Was it nailed down yet? How could he even get up there?
He took his crutch, used it to shove the hatch, and was relieved to see it open. It swung up, and he cringed as he saw it was going to slam. To his astonishment, there was no bang of the hatch door hitting the floor, but something soft, like it landed on a pillow.
Still, how could he possibly get up there without the ladder?
Your crutches. Just like in Abidjan.
Who the hell was telling him this?
He knew what the voice was referencing, though. On a mission in the Côte d’Ivoire city of Abidjan, he had sneaked into a granary used by the local resistance. The place had no good hiding spots, so he had used a pitchfork and a malt shovel to create a makeshift ladder to get up into the rafters. From there, he saw a meeting of the resistance, who were planning to make a move against the French military. He was able to take out all three men.
He took one crutch and tossed it up so that it landed straddling across the opening. He then took the other crutch, slipped the armpit rests sideways just under the lower hand grips, and carefully turned it until it locked where the sides of the crutch narrowed. Then, balancing on one foot, with the backpack weighing him down, Levi grabbed the hand bar of the lower crutch and used it to hoist himself up.
He strained to climb, all while keeping watch of the upper part to make sure the two crutches did not slip on each other and disconnect. Slowly, he climbed up, until he was able to reach the hatch opening. He then yanked himself into the attic and pulled up both crutches.
The attic looked nothing like it did before. Nearly everything was cleared out, but the workers had stopped for the day right at Eren’s hatch. The planks of wood meant to close up this door were right next to it, waiting for morning. He saw that the workers had left some supplies, including a pile of sheets that had been used to cover the furniture. That was what the hatch door landed on.
Right as he closed the hatch down, he heard Eren’s door open. He yanked out his knife and listened. He could not hear much, but he could tell that the person walked slowly, creeping around. Eren would have called out, even quietly. This person was being stealthy.
He had just barely escaped!
He had to wonder, though: who warned him? Was it God? Was it Petra? Maybe God really did forgive him and allowed her to send a warning.
He silently looked up to the heavens and sent a prayer straight to her. He always knew he could count on such a brave and daring woman like Petra.
* * *
Eren and Jean stood side by side in the brothel, gazing at a small girl in front of them.
“Is this her?” Jean asked with a slight sneer.
Eren sighed and leaned into his ear. “You know I had to pick one who looked like him. So she’s a little small…”
“Small isn’t the problem, Jäger!”
Madame Carly sauntered up to the two officers. “Is there something wrong, Herr Leutnant? Do you not find my little Zofia adorable?” She pinched the cheeks of the pale-faced girl.
Jean stared hard at the tiny girl in front of them. “How old is she?”
Carly smirked and asked, “How old do you want her to be?”
Jean answered sternly, “Preferably of legal age.”
“Then she’s fourteen,” Carly said with a blasé shrug.
Jean’s eyes narrowed. “She looks like she’s twelve. I don’t want a child.”
Eren turned to the brothel madam. “How old is she for real?”
Madame Carly rolled her eyes and spoke to the girl. “Skol’ko tebe let?” How old are you?
In a timid voice, Zofia answered, “Ya ne znayu. Ya poteryala schet vremeni. Chetyrnadtsat’ let? Seychas mne mozhet byt’ shestnadtsat’.” I don’t know. I lost track of time. Fourteen years? I might be sixteen now.
“Tebe seychas shestnadtsat’ let.” You are now sixteen years old. She turned to the two officers. “You’re in luck. She’s sixteen.”
“Bullshit!” Jean scoffed.
Carly turned to the girl. “Shestnadtsat’ let?” Sixteen years?
Zofia nodded. “Da, navernoye.” Yes, probably.
“See. Sixteen years, perfectly legal. She’s just petite. Lucky you. The smaller they are, the more sensitive,” she said with a suggestive wink.
Jean frowned but looked back at her. “Gotta say, she is really cute.”
Carly translated, “On nazval tebya miloy.” Zofia’s face turned pink. “Aww, look at that. You made her blush. I have a good feeling about this.”
Daz ran up to them. “She looks just like Louise!”
Eren flinched. “What? No she doesn’t.”
Holger came up with a lady already in his arms. “She does, she does!”
Surma strode up. “Other than being a brunette, there is a similarity. She must be your type. There’s no shame in that.”
The girl was not exactly like Louise. For one, she had brown hair, a wig they had picked out so Levi could wear it in the morning. However, her height, face, and leanness were similar. She looked close enough so that when Levi left in the morning wearing that brown wig, no one would think it was “Louise.”
In a sense, the men thinking she looked similar proved that this could actually work.
“Well, if that’s all,” Jean said, and he finally wrapped his arm around the girl, although Zofia flinched slightly, “I’m going to make sure she knows just how virile a German can be.”
Eren teased, “She won’t find a bigger dick than you, that’s for sure.”
Jean punched him in the arm, and Eren laughed.
Madame Carly whipped out a condom packet and handed it to Jean. “Enjoy. Bring her back tomorrow, at your leisure.” She placed her hand on Eren’s shoulder. “A moment of your time,” she said sweetly, pulling him away.
Daz sighed as they walked away. “I wish Madame Carly would give me a moment of her time.”
Greiz scoffed at him. “In the end, she is still a Jew.”
Eren and Carly retreated to the corridor leading to her office. Once inside, she closed and locked the door. Her shoulders sank now that she did not have to put on an act. She fetched her cigarette case out of a desk drawer, took one for herself, and offered him one. Eren gladly took a cigarette, and she lit it for him.
She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, and then softly she said, “I know who attacked you. I just want to assure you, it was not the French Resistance.”
His brow pinched. “Who else would target me? Or was the target Levi?”
“No. I don’t think he even knows who your boyfriend is.”
“He? You know this man,” he realized. “Is he a local? Is he still in town?”
“I can’t say more. I’d rather keep breathing,” she said sarcastically as she puffed again on her cigarette and let out the smoke casually. “I don’t know the reason why. I just want you to know, when you drop your boyfriend off with the French Resistance tomorrow, they are not your enemy. This man … he does not work for France.”
“Axis, or Allies?” There was a possibility that either side may be his enemies now.
“I cannot say more.”
“Will you at least tell me if he’s about to make another move?”
She laughed lightly. “No,” she said, as if that was a ridiculous request. “I’ve stayed alive this long, despite this,” she said, slapping the armband that marked her as a Jew, “because I know how to give men what they want. You want information; he wants privacy. I can tell you who he isn’t, but I will not tell you who he is, nor would I dare get in that man’s way.”
“You’re scared of him.”
“I’m scared of who he works for.” She took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled some of her stress at revealing even this much. “I normally don’t like the idea of helping Nazis. I’ll fuck them to stay alive, but I don’t want you to win. You, though … you’re different. Consider this warning as a sign of my respect. This is all the help I can give you and still keep myself and my girls safe.”
“Then I thank you for that information,” Eren said stiffly. “I’m sure it’ll put my mind at ease.”
“Get your boyfriend to safety, fight your war, and I’ll imagine that you two somehow end up with a happy-ever-after ending. It’s unlikely,” she added, “but it would be nice. You’re a good man, Eren Jäger. So I’ll imagine that you two can find some corner of the world, living together as husband and husband.” She chuckled and took another long slow drag. “I hope the world becomes like that someday, but I’m not as optimistic as I used to be.”
She looked away as she put the cigarette back into her mouth. Eren realized that this was a sign that the conversation was over. He left the office but realized that he still had the cigarette. Smoking was frowned upon by Germans, Ian often admonished him for the habit, but it was such a good quality, he no longer cared if he got scolded.
To his surprise, Jean was still waiting. As Eren approached, Jean turned to go with him, pulling the prostitute along. They went out into the storm, and both men used their umbrellas to keep Zofia covered.
Eren continued to puff on his cigarette, and Jean looked over. “Still smoking?”
“I’m trying to cut back.”
“Because of him?”
Eren said nothing. He tried to finish his cigarette quickly. “Do you happen to have any mints?”
“I knew it,” Jean grumbled. “He hates your cigarette breath, so you’re trying to quit smoking for him. Changing something you like to accommodate someone else. You’re as tied to a leash as my father is.”
“Or maybe,” Eren said in defense, “when you really love someone, their happiness is more important than something you don’t really care about. Even if your father liked Stuttgart and his job, he loved your mother. That says a lot about your parents. Their love is strong. It’s an admirable thing!”
Jean went quiet. He had always thought his father was a fool for giving up a lucrative job to chase after a woman just because she cooked well. Eren’s words made him think about how close his parents had always been. While some neighbors fought and husbands beat their wives into submission, his parents had always worked harmoniously together, laughing and kissing when they thought Jean was not looking.
Maybe a love that strong was an admirable thing after all.
Eren began, “So, in the morning…”
“Not morning. At least not early.”
Eren’s brow furrowed. “Why not?” He had figured that leaving before everyone woke up was best.
“I know Armin suggested that, but he also never hired prostitutes, so he doesn’t know. What man returns his prostitute at the crack of dawn? No! It would be suspicious. At least after breakfast.” He glanced over at Eren. “Not like you would know either. I have to teach two virgins!” He scoffed and pulled Zofia a little closer. “I wonder, if I gave her a black wig and dressed her up as Levi, would you fuck her just to you can try a woman? Maybe you’ll like it. A nice wet pussy is just what every man needs.”
Eren’s eyes narrowed at Jean. “I think I would know that she’s missing something I want.”
“What, a dick? Have you ever sucked…? No, I don’t want to know,” he mumbled, trying to put the thought out of his head.
Eren smiled to himself, and softly he replied. “I have.”
Jean yelled, “I don’t want to think about it!” He let out a growl and shook his head. That was not an image he wanted to picture. Then Jean calmed down and grumbled, “I hope he’s actually enjoying it, and you’re not forcing him into that shit. Because I would hate you if this was non-consensual.”
Eren thought back to the bath earlier, with Levi wreathing all over him, straining to hold back moans as he arched up in ecstasy. Softly, he whispered, “He’s definitely enjoying it. He decides what we do, not me. He’s stopped things when it’s too much for him. I respect those limits. I would never force him into anything, because I love him.”
Jean nodded, realizing that talk like this was dangerous, but he still liked to know that Eren was happy. Maybe it was with a man, he did not really understand how that was even possible, but every soldier needed to feel hope just to stay sane.
They returned to the hotel, and inside they saw Ian sitting in the foyer. He got up and began to approach with his eyes focused on Eren.
“Go on ahead,” Eren told Jean, and he strode up to the towering blond soldier with razor-sharp cheekbones. “Is there news from the captain?”
“No. You dropped this,” he said, shoving the hotel key over.
Eren’s eyes widened. He felt his pocket, and sure enough, his key was not there. “I’m glad you found it.” How awful would that have been, to get locked out of his room and Levi left alone in there!
Ian turned before Eren could properly thank him and marched off. Eren was busy feeling around to make sure nothing else slipped out of his pockets when a harrowing thought struck him.
How could Ian have found his key when he left before the rest of them?
Had he actually stolen it? Had he inspected his room?
He wanted to rush up the stairs, but Ian was ahead of him. If he bolted in front, it would be suspicious. He had to walk only as fast as Ian. Luckily, the man moved with military swiftness.
Eren finally made it to the fourth floor and casually walked to his room while Ian continued on to his own. Eren pulled out the key and glanced at Ian just as the man let himself into his room.
He unlocked the door, rushed inside, turned on the lights, and looked around in a panic.
“Levi?” he called out softly. He dropped to look under the bed. Not only was no one there, Levi’s bag was missing. His heart raced in horror. “Levi!”
“Shh!”
His eyes went straight up. The attic? How? “Is that you?”
“No, it’s God coming to tell you that you’re a brat and you need to wipe your nose. Of course it’s me!” he snapped. “Is it safe yet?”
“Hold on.” He went to the door again, realizing that in his panic he forgot to lock it. With that security, he felt some of the adrenaline sink out. “Okay.”
Levi opened the hatch. The crutches went down first, then Levi’s bag. “You’ll have to catch me,” he warned. He eased his legs out through the opening and slid partway down until Eren grabbed him, gently lowering him to the ground.
“What happened?” Eren asked in quiet dread.
Levi adjusted the crutches under his arms. “Close the attic first,” he ordered. He hopped over to the bed, collapsed on top of the covers, and flinched at the burning agony in his ankle. “If it wasn’t for Yom Kippur, I’d ask for those damn painkillers.”
Eren eased the hatch shut. “What happened?”
“A bloody miracle, that’s what!”
As Eren got out of his uniform and hung up his coat and umbrella to dry, Levi told him about having a bad feeling and fleeing up into the attic just seconds before someone entered the room. Eren scowled. It had to have been Ian. He had the key, and he had been suspicious of Louise earlier that day.
If Ian would break into Eren’s room to search, surely the Gestapo would think about doing the same thing.
“I’m not leaving you alone until you exit this hotel for the final time,” Eren declared.
Levi did not respond, staring ahead.
“Is something wrong?” Eren asked in worry.
He slowly shook his head. “I never once in my life believed in miracles. It’s all either skill or circumstance. But this? I can’t explain this.” He sneered, not liking something he could not understand. “It was more than just a bad feeling. Petra … told me to get up into the attic. I keep thinking back, thinking I must be going crazy, but it was definitely her voice.”
“Her angel,” Eren said with a tiny smile.
“I never believed in stuff like ghosts and angels. Hell, I barely believed in God.” He closed his eyes and leaned back. “I’m going to sleep and not try to figure it out. Someone—or something—just saved my life. Thank God for that.”
“Thank God indeed,” said Eren. “I want to say a prayer with you, if that’s okay. Silently, both of us. A prayer of thanks that you’re safe.”
Levi tipped his head in agreement. “Do what you want.”
Eren placed his palms together in prayer, and bowed his head.
“God,” he prayed silently, taking a glance over at Levi, who was also praying, “whatever you just did to save him, thank you. He’ll be leaving me in the morning, so please continue to watch over him. Help him to heal quickly, and keep him safe. It’s in your hands now. Also, God, thank you for letting me meet him. I don’t know what sort of man I would be today without him guiding me back to you. How ironic, that a Jew reminded me of the Christian morals I grew up with! So thank you. He is truly a blessing.”
He crossed himself and said aloud, “Amen.” Then Eren suddenly froze. “Oh! Should I not have crossed myself?”
Levi rolled his eyes. “Don’t think you have to give up your religion just because you’re helping me to celebrate mine. Now, go wash up before you catch a cold. We should get up early before all the soldiers wake up and can see me leave.”
“Actually, Jean said that’s a bad idea, and we should wait until the normal time a man would return a prostitute.”
“We also have to worry about that attic getting boarded up.”
Eren hummed, realizing he was right. There would be workers clearing out the last of the attic supplies before boarding up everything. “Then we’ll sneak you over early.”
“He better not be fucking that prostitute when I go over there.”
Eren chuckled, finding his griping adorable. “I’ll call him first.”
“Let’s get some sleep. It’ll probably be the last time I can sleep in a soft bed for a while.”
The thought stung, and Eren almost did not want to go to bed. They could stay up, talk, and he could hear more stories about Levi’s life. However, he knew that he should be rested, ready to defend Levi as he left. This would hopefully be a simple maneuver, but nothing was guaranteed.
Eren gathered his nightclothes and went to the bathroom to change, wanting to be polite on this holiest of days. Levi watched him walk across the room, and his heart stung.
How in the world had he gone from not being certain about a relationship with a man, to aching at the thought of losing him?
He said a final prayer.
“God, watch over that brat. Heaven knows what mischief he’ll get up to on his own. And God, thank you for putting him in my path. I would be dead without him. How ironic, that a Nazi now helps me to worship you on Yom Kippur! Truly, he is one of your miracles. So thank you. May his name be in the Book of Life for a long, long time.”
Levi removed his trousers but kept on the white shirt. He liked the idea of wearing Eren’s clothes to sleep in. He settled under the sheets, savoring the softness of the pillow and the warmth of the blankets. He had been taking such things for granted.
Eren finished in the bathroom, turned off the lights, and went to bed. Right away, he rolled onto his side, only to find that Levi had done the same, prepared to spoon into him. They ended up gazing into each other’s eyes in the dark.
Eren leaned forward and put his forehead up against Levi’s. The tips of their noses met, both bittersweetly realizing that this was their last night together.
“I don’t want to fall asleep,” Eren confessed sadly.
Levi reached forward and touched Eren’s cheek. “I know the feeling.” His lips ached to feel Eren, but he had decided to follow the restrictions on this day. Still, surely one kiss was allowed. “I can’t indulge in pleasure on this day, but … if you kiss me, that’s different, right?”
Eren smiled at how he had found a loophole. “That way, you’re not working.”
Levi’s gaze locked onto Eren’s lips, craving them so much. “Just a kiss, and I mean it this time.”
Eren nodded, glad that at the very least they could kiss goodnight.
Eren leaned forward, and their lips met. They both lingered there, not wanting to break apart, but unwilling to give one another more. Just lips, no tongue, no wild biting, not even touching.
From their first awkward kiss until now … what a short amount of time had passed, and what a lifetime of happy memories they built within just this one single month.
Levi heard a sniffle from Eren, but their lips remained locked. It was reasonable that he was sad. Then he heard a louder sniff, a jolt in Eren’s chest, and the lips pressed against his began to tremble. Levi pulled back and saw anguish tightening Eren’s face.
“You’re about to cry.”
“No I’m not!” Despite saying that, he sniffed again.
“Idiot. Your eyes are already pink.”
Eren looked away stubbornly, but his chest was shaking from how tightly he held back his emotions. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. His whole body jolted with a suppressed sob. “I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to end tonight sad. I wanted to be strong!” A tear slipped out and streaked down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Levi reached forward and wiped the tear away. “It’s reasonable that you would cry.”
Eren snuffled and looked up with a quivering smile. “Because I’m a little boy?”
Levi chuckled in amusement. “That too, but also…” He kissed Eren’s forehead. “…because you’re a man in love.”
Eren’s lips trembled, trying to hold back, but he couldn’t. He suddenly dove into Levi’s arms, knocking him back flat.
“Idiot takhshet. I said…”
“I’m not kissing you,” he cut in. “I … I just…” His words choked off as he gulped back a hiccup of grief. He buried his face into the pillow and kept repeating, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” unable to stop the tears anymore.
Levi sighed and wrapped his arms around him. He felt Eren’s entire body convulsing as he tried so hard to hold back. “Cry now, while I’m here. I’d rather comfort you myself than think you’re crying alone. So get it all out now, here in my arms.” Levi playfully added, “That’s an order.”
That permission freed his heart, allowed it to feel pain, and Eren burst into sobs.
He had wanted to hold all of this back until after Levi left, but the pain was hitting him too hard. Eren punched the bed in anger. It wasn’t fair! He punched it again, so mad at the injustice of this world, to give him the opportunity to feel what being in love was like, only to rip him away from it. He grabbed hold of Levi even tighter.
“I don’t want to lose you!” he cried out.
Levi stroked his head. “You know, I’m not going far away yet. I can’t escape the city, especially not with this leg. I’ll still be in Metz, just hidden underground. I’ll be safe down there.”
“I know,” Eren mumbled. He hated that now Levi was safer with those French terrorists than with him. A fresh wave of tears hit him. Eren tried so hard to hold them back, but Levi softly consoled him.
“Cry everything out now.”
As the white shirt dampened with tears, Levi felt a soft smile lift his cheeks. To think, someone in this world would cry over him! It was endearing. He kept quiet, combing his fingers through the brown hair. Even after the tears subsided and tiny hiccups deep in his chest soothed away, Levi held Eren.
Finally, Eren sank to the side with his head on Levi’s chest, still sniffling, and whispered, “Can I stay like this tonight?”
“Don’t touch me weirdly.”
“I won’t. I … I just need to be with you.” He hugged Levi. Their last night! It hurt to imagine sleeping in this bed and not feeling such soothing warmth beside him.
“Then I’ll hold you for tonight,” Levi said, and with a smirk he added, “spoiled little brat.”
Eren laughed quietly. How weird, that he loved to hear Levi insult him like that! He closed his eyes, calmed himself, and found comfort in the heat radiating from Levi’s body. He was exhausted now. Although he did not want to fall asleep and miss time with Levi, he felt exhaustion hitting him.
“How do you say goodnight in Yiddish?”
“Gute nakht.”
Eren raised his head to look at Levi. “That’s the same in German.”
“It’s close. In Hebrew, it’s layla tov.”
“Layla tov,” Eren whispered. “I’ve heard that before.”
Could it be, his mother used to say that to him as she tucked him into bed? He sank back down onto Levi’s chest and tried to think back. So much of today was right on the edge of familiarity. How much of his childhood was influenced by Jewish traditions, and he didn’t even know it?
Levi gave the top of Eren’s head a kiss. “Gute nakht, neshomeleh.”
Eren felt a giddy warmth tingle through him at those words. “Laila tov. Shalom aleichem.” Goodnight. Peace be unto you.
Levi’s eyes sprang open wide. “How do you know that phrase?”
Sleepy already, Eren blinked his eyes open in confusion. “Huh? Wasn’t it something you taught me?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve never said it.”
What shocked Levi was that Eren said the Hebrew words flawlessly, even the khaf sound that Europeans struggled to make. It had sounded natural.
Eren closed his eyes and settled back down again. “Maybe my mother said it to me. So many things this week have been familiar from my childhood. It’s like God meant for me to find you so I can remember it all.” He snuggled in closer. “I wonder … if Germany was not the way it is now, would I have been raised with both religions? Maybe … in America … I can…” His words trailed off as Eren fell asleep.
Levi shook the surprise out of his head. This man would always be a mystery to him, and perhaps that was the way God meant it to be. He gave Eren’s head another kiss and closed his eyes.
Outside, the autumn storm raged, the wind screamed, and the thunder exploded, all reminders of the battle that was creeping ever closer.
# # #
# #
#
Tissues for everyone!
Sounds of bombing to the south – On 26 September 1944, the XIX Tactical Air Command’s 405th Fighter Group began to drop bombs and napalm on Feste Kronprinz (later renamed Fort Driant) south of Metz. They were flying in bad weather and did little damage.
- https://www.scribd.com/document/49623905/Air-Power-for-Patton-s-Army-the-XIX-Tactical-Air-Command-in-the-Second-World-War
Ian quotes from Sun Tsu’s The Art of War, Chapter 2. Like many characters, I ended up writing quite a backstory for Ian, although he only shows up a few times, and this is the first time we really focus on him.
- https://suntzuart.com/sun-tzu-art-of-war/chapter-02
This is the same Zofia who was friends with Gabi and Falco in the anime. We are never given her age in the manga or anime, so let’s assume she’s 16 here.
Legal age in Nazi Germany – Section 176 of the Criminal Code for the German Empire in 1872 covers the Schutzalter laws (“age of protection”). In general, the age of consent is 14, but if one partner is over 21, many legal protections apply to guarantee the minor’s capacity for sexual self-determination, and such relationships are forbidden when the older partner is in a position of authority, such as in the workplace, a caregiver, or a teacher. This law has remained under all future regimes, including the Third Reich. Today, those legal protections include banning prostitution for people under 18, but in 1944 that was not something that was enforced.
- https://www.gesetze-im-internet.de/englisch_stgb/englisch_stgb.html#p1633
“Just like in Abidjan” – Abidjan is the economic capital of Côte d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast).
pitchfork and malt shovel – Levi’s maneuver is based on something my brother once did, using my grandfather’s wooden crutches to get up into our attic when he couldn’t find a ladder; he insisted he learned it from my grandfather who used a pitchfork and shovel, with the handle of the shovel as a foothold to climb up. I do NOT recommend it, no matter what tools you use.
Shalom aleichem (שָׁלוֹם עֲלֵיכֶם) - a Hebrew phrase meaning peace be unto you, which can be used as both a greeting and a farewell. The letter khaf כ is notoriously hard for people who do not speak a language with that phonetic sound. It is often crudely described as sounding like someone clearing their throat. German has this sound in some words, like Bach and Dach, so it would not necessarily be a challenge for Eren to pick it up. The question is, where did he hear that phrase, to be able to pronounce it flawlessly? Because Levi has NOT said that phrase to Eren yet. He said Shalom once, but never shalom aleichem.

Cool random research find of the day: this article about Yom Kippur from the New York Times, dated September 27, 1944, (that would be tomorrow in this story) mentioning the Jews fighting in the armed forces, with optimism that “imminent Allied victory promised an end to the suffering of the last decade.” - https://www.nytimes.com/1944/09/27/archives/day-of-atonement-observed-by-jews-yom-kippur-holiest-period-in-year.html

YOM KIPPUR
On the evening of September 26, 1944, with the setting of the sun, Jews around the world marked the start of Yom Kippur, which means “Day of Atonement.” It lasted from sunset on the 26th (18:25 local time) to sunset on the 27th (18:23).
Yom Kippur is the holiest day of the year for Jews, sometimes called the “Sabbath of Sabbaths.” It is the day the Lord atones his people of their sins and uplifts their souls, bringing them to the closest state of being angelic as corporeally possible. Even casual Jews might go to temple on this one day, or at least fast at home with prayers for atonement. Many wear white as a sign of purity.
In an effort to get in touch with one’s pure soul, fleshly needs like food and water are cast aside for one day. The Torah forbids eating or drinking (unless it is potentially fatal to do so), wearing perfumes or cosmetics, wearing leather shoes, no bathing or washing hands (unless the skin is soiled, like getting splashed with mud, after using the toilet, or if a person is about to handle food, such as to feed small children), and married couples are to refrain from all forms of sexual relations.
Traditionally, the day before Yom Kippur is a yom tov, a festive day, eating easily digestible foods: rice, chicken, salmon (although some refrain from fish), meat dumplings (kreplach), with challah bread and honey. It is meant to give a person strength for the following day. Normally, a person also increases their liquid consumption days prior to avoid dehydration. After Yom Kippur is over, there is another feast with comfort foods and baked goods like omelets, blintzes, and kugel (egg noodle pudding).
Although the Torah commands all Jewish adults to abstain from eating and drinking between sundown to the following nightfall, one’s well-being must be taken into account, as the Torah also makes it clear that continuing to live is more important than fasting. Children under 12 are allowed to eat. Anyone who is severely sick, elderly, and women who have just given birth or have gestational diabetes are allowed to eat. If a person is on life-saving medication that requires food, they may eat enough to take the medication, but otherwise follow the spirit of the fast.
Never risk your life! Fasting is meant to cleanse the body and spirit, not kill it.
For a deeper look into Yom Kippur, I recommend this article by Rabbi Shmuel Reichman:
“Yom Kippur is the one day of the year when we completely free ourselves of our physical limitations, embracing our angelic self. This day embodies true teshuva [repentance], when we return to our ultimate root, to our spiritual, perfect self. Chazal [The Sages] characterize Yom Kippur as the one day of the year when we have the ability to become a malach [angel]. On this day, our lower self and physical urges are powerless, they cannot bring us down. […] On Yom Kippur, we attempt to live as malachim [angels], completely transcending the physical world. We therefore fast, allowing our soul to somewhat transcend our body, enabling us to experience one day of living in an angelic state. This principle sheds light on all the issurim [prohibitions] of Yom Kippur. We don’t engage in the physical world because Yom Kippur is a day of transcending the physical aspects of human experience.”
- https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/177886/jewish/What-Is-Yom-Kippur.htm
- https://www.jewishpress.com/judaism/holidays/yom-kippur-flying-amongst-angels/2021/09/14
- https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/yom-kippur-history
- 64
- 65
- 66
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dangerous Territory