At seventeen, Eren was already much taller than his neighbor – You. The two of you grew up together in the same apartment complex, going to school together every morning, and sitting on the roof to catch the breeze at night. To you, Eren was a familiar "childhood friend", a bit irritable, but warm. There was only one thing you never understood: Why did Eren always like to touch you?

A handshake when crossing the street, a hug when you were sad, or sometimes just sitting next to him, he had to put his shoulder to shoulder. You often grumbled:

"Are you addicted to human contact?"

Eren smiled, his deep eyes flashing with an indescribable light.

"Yes, addicted to you."

[..]

The school bell rang in the suburban high school of Tokyo. Groups of students in uniforms chattered out of the gate.

You, quietly carrying your bag, walked out and saw Eren leaning against the fence. His eyes were indifferent, his headphones hanging loosely around his neck. The two of you walked side by side on the familiar path, lined with ginkgo trees turning yellow. The leaves fell slowly, the autumn wind gently blew into your hair, the smell of roasted chestnuts wafted from a street vendor near the train station.

They passed through a small neighborhood where the familiar konbini convenience store was lit up. Children ran around the Shinto shrine grounds on the corner, and the tinkling of wind chimes hanging from the front porches echoed in the afternoon breeze.

When they passed the matcha ice cream shop, you suddenly stopped.

"Want some? Ice cream tastes great in the fall."

Eren frowned:

"Only you would think that."

But in the end, they bought two, and the two of them sat on the stone steps next to the sink in the shrine.