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When his eyes fall on the Mona Lisa pinned to the wall, coated in blood, Eren screams.
Armin screams right along with him, pitch high enough to make a dog's ears bleed. He’s never been good in these situations. He could barely get through watching ET until they were ten.
“I-I’m g-going to have a h-heart attack,” he stammers. He bundles himself deeper into the yellow blanket he brought along with him.
Eren doesn’t respond, but he thinks the same thing. The flashlight trembles in his hand, the flimsy illumination in the otherwise dark art room swaying side to side. Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. The teachers converting the junior high school into a haunted maze for Halloween was an even stupider idea.
“Are you both okay?” Mikasa asks. She’s been so quiet this whole time that Eren often forgets she’s here. The few times she speaks up, he’s startled all over again.
“I’m fine,” Eren says.
Armin shivers and takes a step toward Mikasa. “Maybe we should find the exit.”
“We can’t,” Eren insists.
This may be his definition of hell, but Eren isn’t leaving until he walks through every room in this school. Too much is on the line. His pride. His reputation. His pride.
Another scream rings out, forcing Eren to scream as well. He waves his flashlight around until it lands on the source, his face souring when he realizes who it is.
“Pee your pants, Kirstein?”
Jean glares at him. “You wish.” An irritating smirk tugs at his stupid mouth. “What’s wrong with your face? Did the big bad monsters scare you?”
“You both sound ridiculous,” Connie says, standing as Jean’s plus one. His face flushes white when he looks toward the painting. “Damn, that’s creepy.”
“Hardly,” Jean says, as if he didn’t scream bloody murder when he first looked at it. “That's not even real blood.”
“How do you know?”
“Why would they use real blood? It’s an art room. Mr. Berner probably used paint.”
Connie shrugs. “You never know.”
“C-can we get o-out of here now?” Armin says.
“Yes,” Mikasa answers. “Let’s go to the music room.”
They head to their next destination. Eren’s legs shake with every step. He wants to quit so badly. But if he does, Jean will never let him live it down. Besides, Jean isn’t looking so confident himself. He’ll drop out soon enough, then Eren will win the bet. Lasting longer than Jean in this haunted school is worth every scream and shudder that will leave his body tonight.
He and Jean lead the group while they walk. Just Eren’s luck. Jean always has to act like a leader even when no one cares to listen to him. Probably a coping mechanism to feel important.
“Don’t yell in my ear,” Jean tells him. “I have sensitive hearing.”
“Oh you’re sensitive, alright,” Eren mutters.
Jean’s face hardens. “Give me that flashlight.” He reaches for it, but Eren yanks it away.
“No. If you wanted a flashlight you should’ve brought one.”
“Well sorry for not being a scared little baby like you.”
Eren’s tempted to shut the flashlight off and strangle him while no one can see. He’d get away with it too. The other kids exploring the school would assume a murdered Jean on the floor is part of the attraction.
The music room is quiet, which has Eren’s heart pumping hard. A jump scare is coming, he knows it. The sweat accumulating on his palm almost causes the flashlight to slip from his hand.
Armin is just as terrified. He babbles a string of nonsense that not even seven years of friendship will help Eren understand. But Mikasa happily comforts him, taking his hand in her own.
The sound of slammed piano keys then punctures the air. Eren jolts and shines the flashlight over the grand piano near the back window. A chilling figure with gray skin and white hair pounds away at the keys, a haunting melody setting the scene.
Everyone screams aside from Mikasa.
“What the heck is that?” Connie shrieks.
Noises pour from Armin's mouth, none of them actual words. Even so, Mikasa seems to have no problem understanding him.
“It’s Beethoven’s ghost,” she translates.
Eren’s heartbeat lodges in his throat. He knows this is fake, but it doesn’t feel like it. He hates this. And he hates Jean for not throwing in the towel already and admitting that Eren is braver than him.
“Calm down,” Jean says. “That’s not a ghost. It’s just Mr. Smith in a wig.”
Eren regulates his breathing as he takes the ghost into proper view. The build is right for it to be Mr. Smith. There also aren’t many people who can rival the music teacher in piano playing.
“There is no Mr. Smith,” the ghost says. “I murdered him through the power of song.” It points a decaying finger at them. “And you children are next.”
Eren speeds out of there screaming at the top of his lungs. Jean is right behind him, his long legs making it easy to catch up. His obnoxious wailing snaps Eren out of his own terror.
Eren spins around and scowls. “What are you freaking out for?”
“Me?” Jean says. “You screamed too.”
“I only screamed because you screamed.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did.”
“God, you are so insufferable,” Jean says. “Tell him, Connie.”
When no one answers, Eren and Jean peer around. Connie’s nowhere in sight. Same with Armin and Mikasa. No other students are around at all. Whatever path they took sprinting out of the music room was clearly the wrong one.
“Where’d everyone go?” Eren says.
“I don’t know,” Jean replies, voice shaky. “Which way did we come from again?”
“No clue.”
Fear reflects in Jean’s hazel eyes, but only for a second. Next, he’s pursing his lips in annoyance.
“Well this is great. Of all the people to get lost with, it just had to be you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Eren says. “I have no intention of finishing this with you.”
“Then get away from me.”
“You get away from me.”
The flashlight dies. Because of course it does.
Surrounded by darkness, Eren sucks in a breath while his eyes adjust. The irrational part of him wants to blame Jean for this. The rational part thinks back to his mother suggesting that Eren replace the batteries before he takes it with him and Eren ignoring her.
Neither move an inch. Eren doesn’t want to stay with Jean, but going through this alone is not an option. Not when he can barely see two feet in front of him. Not when he’s this terrified.
“I’m going to check out the gym,” he says weakly. It’s the closest room to where they’re standing. Eren doesn’t say it like an invitation, but he also doesn’t say it like Jean isn’t invited. He leaves it to Jean’s discretion whether he wants to tag along.
To Eren’s relief, Jean does.
They walk slower than usual, reaching out for cobwebs or any other creepy decorations the teachers adorned the school with. Eren swears he hears a rat scurry past them, but he keeps that to himself.
He yelps when something brushes against his hand. Panicking, he looks around for something or someone that could’ve grabbed him. But all he sees is Jean.
“What are you doing?”
“I—” Jean says, dumbfounded.
Eren scrunches his face in fury. “You’re trying to scare me? Is tormenting me that much fun for you?”
It’s hard to make out Jean’s features in the dark, but the small glimpses Eren gets indicate that he’s offended. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
Jean grits his teeth, then looks away. “I’m scared, okay?”
Eren’s face softens. He waited all damn night to hear those words. Now that he has, it’s not as satisfying as he hoped. Maybe it’s the tenderness in Jean’s voice. Eren’s never heard him sound so vulnerable.
His anxiety skyrockets. This can also be a trick. Eren won’t put it past Jean to pretend he’s afraid just to get Eren to lower his guard. The longer he thinks it over, the more it seems exactly like something Jean Kirstein would do.
But Eren doesn’t call him out on it. Because deep down, he can tell it’s not a trick. Jean is afraid. It’s reassuring, in a weird way. You don’t admit your fears to people you genuinely hate. Or people you’re not comfortable with. So that must mean that Jean cares more about Eren than he lets on.
“I’m scared too,” Eren says. If Jean admitting it aloud is comforting, the least Eren can do is return the favor.
Jean fidgets in place, looking like an awkward mess. “Well, that was obvious.”
His tone lacks his usual smugness. There’s no room for that right now.
Eren takes his arm, finally registering what Jean was trying to do before. Jean jolts at first, but quickly relaxes. His skin is colder than Eren’s. It’s an interesting contrast. Eren wonders if Jean feels the same.
He squeezes hard. Jean lets him. Arms tangled like a complicated puzzle. They’re trembling, but they’re trembling together. Eren feels a lot less scared than he did a few seconds ago. Pretending to be brave is overrated. Sharing his fear with someone is way better. Even if it’s a sworn rival.
Though, as they walk to the gym arm in arm, Eren questions how much of a rival Jean really is. He can’t be that much of a rival if the simple gesture of holding onto him brings Eren insurmountable comfort.
Their strides are in sync as they huddle together. With his head practically in the crook of Jean’s neck, Eren detects the scent of licorice. Jean’s always had a sweet tooth. Halloween just heightens it. Today’s candy of choice was a pack of Twizzlers that he snacked on in the back of Mx. Hange’s science class. Eren’s not a fan of licorice himself, but the smell isn’t so bad. It's quite enticing, actually.
Jean tightens his hold, and Eren’s heartbeat slows. Jean’s holding him like a valued treasure that he refuses to let anyone steal. As scared as Jean is, he’s putting that aside to help Eren through his own fear.
And it’s working. Way too well for Eren’s liking.
“You okay?” Jean says quietly.
It’s a punch in the gut. Jean being nice to Eren this many times in a row should be illegal. It should also be illegal how Eren’s face tingles from Jean checking in with him.
“Yeah,” Eren answers. “You?”
Jean nods. “Let’s do this.”
They enter the gymnasium with their heads high. The squeak of their sneakers shatters Eren’s ears. His free hand clutches the expired flashlight in a death grip. This would be a great time for it to start working again. A lot can go wrong in a space this large.
“I don’t see anything,” he whispers to Jean.
“Me neither,” Jean whispers back.
His breath tickles Eren’s face, making his face heat up. Maybe the lack of light is a blessing in disguise.
“Wait,” Jean says, snapping Eren from his confusing thoughts. He points ahead. “Over there.”
In the distance, Eren makes out a small silhouette. But it’s too dark to register what or who it is, if it’s anything at all.
There’s only one way to find out.
He and Jean inch forward one small step at a time. Each time Eren wants to turn back, he digs his nails deeper into Jean’s arm. Not once does Jean tell him to knock it off. His teeth start to chatter, but that’s as audible as he gets. Jean’s willingness to be Eren’s rock is the only reason why Eren keeps moving.
Slowly, the silhouette becomes crisper. Before Eren decides he doesn’t want to see it, it’s too late.
He screams first, a split second ahead of Jean. It’s hard to suppress the horror of staring at the dead body of one of their teachers.
“Is that real?” Jean says. “Oh my God."
Coach Ackerman lies lifeless on the cold gymnasium floor. There’s blood everywhere. His head, his chest, even the soles of his shoes. For a man so intimidating despite his small stature, he looks rather peaceful in death.
“It’s not real,” Eren pleads, shaking his head. “It can’t be.”
There’s no way Coach Ackerman is actually dead. He’s tougher than anyone at this school. Nobody can kill him, not even a ghost.
But it looks way too real. His chest isn’t moving. Sickness crawls up Eren’s throat. Coach Ackerman was terrifying in his own right, but Eren would never want him dead.
Besides, if someone killed Coach Ackerman, that means he and Jean are in danger.
Just then, Coach Ackerman lunges at them and screams at the top of his lungs. It’s a miracle Eren doesn’t wet himself, but that’s the only positive outcome. He and Jean shriek like small children and race out of the gymnasium like they’re at the Olympics.
It was a trick. Of course it was. Coach Ackerman and the other teachers put on this haunted expedition to scare the students. And Eren took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.
Well, Eren’s done with it. He doesn’t care about losing his bet with Jean. Now that he knows Jean won’t judge him for being afraid, he has no reason to stay.
So, he makes for the exit, never once slowing his speed. To his surprise, Jean is right behind him. Whether he’s running with Eren for solidarity or because he’s just as scared doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s sacrificing his pride for Eren. Eren never thought he’d see the day, but this is a pleasant surprise.
When he bursts through the front doors and hits open air, Eren lets out a huge sigh of relief. He keeps running until he’s deep enough into the courtyard that no ghosts or corpses can jump out and grab him.
“We made it,” he says, struggling to catch his breath. He rests his hands on his knees.
Jean nods, gratitude reflecting in his gaze. Specks of moonlight glisten in his hazel eyes. They’re quite nice to look at.
Jean’s eyebrows furrow, and at first Eren blushes because he worries he got caught staring. But Jean looks past him and lets his irritation rush out.
“What are you guys doing here?”
Eren turns around and finds Armin, Mikasa, and Connie. Unlike him, they seem perfectly fine. Even Armin is all smiles wrapped in his yellow fleece. Anyone who looks that composed after seeing their gym teacher’s corpse needs to be institutionalized.
Connie shrugs. “Armin wanted to quit after seeing the Beethoven ghost, so we left.”
So that’s it. They didn’t even make it that far. While Eren was working up his courage to explore the haunted school with Jean, they were all relaxing out here without a care in the world.
Jean scoffs. “So much for sticking together.”
“You’re the one who ran off,” Mikasa says. “We tried to find you and Eren, but we had no idea where you went.”
Eren wants to counter, but he can’t. At least it’s over. And with the night still young, he may get to actually enjoy his Halloween after all. Maybe Mikasa and Armin can come back to his house to watch that Halloween special about The Great Pumpkin.
Maybe Jean will want to come, too.
“So who won the bet?” Armin says, his stutter gone. “Which one of you quit first?”
Eren and Jean glance at each other. Eren studies his features now that he can. Jean’s strong jaw. His downturned mouth. His perfectly messy hair. Dozens of thoughts rush through him, all coming to the same conclusion.
“We’ll call it a tie,” Jean says.
“Yeah,” Eren chokes out, his tongue tripping over itself. “I’m good with that.”
The blood was one thing. The ghosts. The dead bodies. Those were all scary and Eren will happily spend the rest of his life never encountering anything of the sort ever again.
But the way Eren’s stomach flips when Jean's looking at him?
That may be the scariest thing of all.