Chapitre 16: Home
Alaric stepped into Yuuta's small home, the earthy scent of wood and faint herbs filling the air. As he took in the humble surroundings—a worn rug, an old wooden table, a few scattered tools—his mind drifted back, far beyond the dense forests of Shiganshina. Memories he hadn't allowed himself to think of in so long started pushing their way forward.
In his past life, he had been born in a world entirely unlike this one. His parents were loving, and gentle—a stark contrast to the cold reality he found himself in now. He had a mother who laughed often, a father who worked long hours but always returned home with a proud smile, and an older brother who was his hero.
They were the ones who had given him the name Alaric, Alaric Forester.
His mother Amanda Forester was strict, strict enough to beat him up if he ever screwed up something. His father Stephen Forester, strict, hardworking, sure will sometime let the work make him neglect his family but he still tried his best and made up to them. His elder brother Noel Forester, they always for annual sometime start fighting me for no reason make fun of him. He still remember so when he was little his mother asked brother to tutor him, reluctant at first but had to bend to his mother's will. During math lessons if you get something wrong multiple Times, his brother would lash out at him.
He could almost hear his mother calling him to dinner, almost feel his father's hand ruffle his hair as he went over homework, and almost see the blurry shape of his brother, standing tall and watching out for him. It had been an ordinary life, really—predictable, safe, and... happy.
But that was a long time ago.
This world, by comparison, was brutal. He had been reborn into it, with memories of his past intact but useless here. The walls around him were real, far more than the figurative walls that had surrounded him in his previous life. He remembered the day he had realized that he was no longer in the world he'd once known. The looming walls, the militaristic towns, the clear divisions between rich and poor—all of it had screamed of something far darker than he could have imagined.
He had also learned to survive. First in the underworld, sold into slavery by people who had been anything but family, then under the violent control of a so-called "noble" woman. That world had shattered, however, when something else—something primal and monstrous—had emerged from within him. The virus. A new life, a second skin, one that made him into something that wasn't entirely human.
He clenched his fists, feeling the pulse of the virus within his veins, a constant reminder of what he was now. How much had changed from that boy he had been, from the world he had known?
This world was a war zone compared to his past life, and soon, it would only get worse. Titans. That's what lay beyond the walls, he knew. He didn't remember much from the anime—he had barely completed a season before his previous life was snatched away. But he remembered enough to know what the future held. He remembered that in about two and a half years, titans would breach the walls and bring destruction to everything in their path. And when that day came, this quiet, fragile home would stand little chance. And even before that the slave traders, the ones who had played with his live would come to get Mikasa and her mother, killing Yuuta, her father.
He looked over to Yuuta, who was busy preparing something in the small kitchen. Alaric had no idea what this man saw in him, why he had taken the time to bring him here, offer him kindness. He knew he didn't belong. He could barely fit into his own skin, much less into a family, yet here he was, surrounded by the warmth of Yuuta's home.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the memories back down, trying to silence the unease clawing at him.
Alaric sat quietly in the corner of the room, his gaze wandering across the modest home. It felt strange to be in a place that felt… normal. Peaceful, even. The scent of something cooking in the kitchen filled the air, its warmth enveloping him, and for a brief moment, the tension in his muscles eased.
He still couldn't shake the shock he'd felt when he had introduced himself properly. Yuuta, Mikasa's father. The name had hit him like a punch in the gut. Mikasa. Mikasa Ackerman, his favorite character from the Attack on Titan series. Alaric still remembered the way he had practically devoured every episode that featured her—her strength, her loyalty, the fierce determination that made her such a standout. She was unstoppable, driven by her love for Eren, and her silent yet powerful presence had made her an instant favorite of his.
And now... he was in her house. Her house.
The realization was still settling in. Mikasa's father had just brought him home, and Mikasa's mother was out with her. He looked around, almost expecting to see her burst through the door at any moment, sword in hand, ready to take down titans. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. Not yet, at least.
He couldn't help but smile to himself. "Mikasa," he muttered under his breath, almost feeling giddy. "The Mikasa Ackerman." He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. If his friends from his past life could see him now, they'd never believe it. The Alaric who had never let anyone in, fanboying over a character like this.
"She was so cool, though," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt a little ridiculous, but the childish excitement was too hard to resist. "I wonder what she's like in real life… Probably doesn't even know what's going to happen. She's just a kid right now, right? No titans. No fights." The image of a young Mikasa popped into his head, and he smirked. "Bet she's still scary, though. Probably could throw me through a wall if she wanted to."
He chuckled to himself, feeling the tension inside him easing a little more. Maybe this family wasn't such a bad place to let his guard down. They seemed good. Kind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have people around for once, instead of wandering the forests like a ghost.
His gaze drifted to the kitchen, where Yuuta—was busy stirring something in a pot. Alaric's nose twitched at the smell. It was savory, rich, something he hadn't had in a long while. It brought back memories of home, of simpler times, when he didn't have to worry about surviving or the virus lurking inside him.
The thought made his stomach grumble, and he smiled faintly. "Whatever you're making smells good," he said out loud, more to himself than anyone else. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the smell fill his senses.
Maybe, just for a little while, he could pretend that this was home. That he wasn't an anomaly in this world. Maybe this family could be something more than just a temporary shelter. It was a strange thought, but one that seemed... possible.
He shook his head, brushing the idea away before it took root too deeply. "No, don't get too comfortable," he muttered to himself, though the warmth of the house made it difficult not to. Still, as he thought of Mikasa, he couldn't help but feel a little hopeful. "Maybe staying here won't be so bad."
For now, he'd let his guard down. Just for this family.
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