Eren had changed.

"Spread out your senses lightly, like stretching after a long nyaap."

Eren grunted but kept his focus despite her joke.

Kuroka took her own advice, stretching lazily out on the bench as her tails flicked idly behind her.

This thing was incredibly uncomfortable, but if it finally got Eren to slow down and relax a bit, Kuroka would put up with it.

That, and the uncomfortableness of the bench was contrasted by Eren letting her lay her head on his thighs. Her favorite position when they trained together.

Gaining power, being lazy, and spending time with the future father of her kittens, all while napping in the sun? This was as close to heaven as a reincarnated devil like her could get.

Now, she just needed Shirone to cuddle with, and everything would be perfect.

"There are... two magical beings still in town, not including familiars. Only one devil."

"Three. There are two devils, but one is trying to hide."

Eren tried to reach out to find the one he had missed, but she felt his energy waver.

Kuroka's ears flickered as she felt Eren's Senjutsu destabilize.

"You are working with a lot less Ki than you used to have," Kuroka chided gently, one of her tails bopping Eren's cheek gently as he grit his teeth in frustration at his most recent failure. "No need to cover the whole city, nyaa."

"I had it." Eren denied and Kuroka rolled her eyes playfully.

Ok, Eren hadn't changed that much. He was just as headstrong as she remembered.

But he had changed.

Did he notice?

"Why are you trying so hard to learn sensing," Kuroka asked as she summoned a clone to grab her a drink from the minifridge under the bench. "You said it wasn't needed, nyaa? And you already have a good grasp of the basics."

"It isn't," Eren sighed, and she felt his Ki calm as he ceased practicing, pulling the layer of Ki back into himself.

The clone also adjusted the covering so that the full glare of the sun wasn't hitting her face.

Really, she had to thank these devil girls. They made this little park the perfect place to be lazy. All she had to do was keep up the illusions on those pesky familiars, and Kuroka had the perfect little setup.

When she wasn't crashing at Eren's place anyway.

But that was no fun without him. Kruoka could only play games for so long before she needed to find someone to mess with. Half in hiding as she was, Kuroka lacked the usual selection of targets, so she would have to settle for Eren.

He had to make up for disappearing for a year anyway.

"Then why," Kuroka asked again, rolling onto her back so she was facing up.

Eren's hair was getting long again.

Kuroka was of two minds about that.

On one paw, Eren had great hair, and she loved to bat at it. It also made him look more mature.

On the other, when he cut it short, it emphasized the angles of his handsome face.

For now, Kuroka settled for idly twirling a finger through the strands that fell a few inches from her face.

He let her.

Eren had really changed.

"I have nothing else to do," Eren answered easily. "The only reason I didn't learn it before was because there is nothing to sense in the Path. I couldn't practice it like Senjutsu or Touki, so it wasn't worth the time invested in the real world. Now, I have that time."

Anyone else might have bought that excuse. It was in Eren's usual austere voice.

Not Kuroka.

Knowing him as well as she did, actively monitoring his Ki as she was, Kuroka could tell Eren was hiding something.

Was it worth giving up her comfortable position?

In the end, Kuroka's curiosity got the better of her.

Like it always did.

Sitting up, the nekoshou used her usual tactics against the Titan.

"Nyahahaha," Kuroka giggled, leaning into his body suggestively.

He didn't flinch. Eren was long inured to her lack of shame. Not even the breasts she was so proud of could make him so much as twitch. It certainly didn't help that he was covering his eyes with bandages.

Still, he had his weaknesses.

"Hey," she purred sensually in his ear, her breath warming his skin. "Tell me? Please?"

Eren recoiled in surprise, almost falling off the bench in a sudden and violent flinch.

Kuroka stared, wide-eyed, at the unexpected reaction.

Eren had been immune to her teasing for as long as she had known him. Even when she got physically close, close enough to make him uncomfortable, Eren remained largely unfazed and acquiesced to her whims to get her to stop more than anything else.

She could feel it bothering him, but he never showed any reaction. Kuroka had never been able to surprise Eren once in their entire time together.

Such was the price of trying to seduce a clairvoyant.

That reaction...

Kuroka's tails swirled in agitation, her eyes locked on to Eren hungrily as he righted himself and scowled at her.

"Don't do that again."

Kuroka was definitely doing that again.

"I won't if you tell me why you are so set on learning to sense now?"

Eren's scowl deepened for a second before he turned to face away.

"I made a mistake," he eventually said, his voice small.

"A mistake, nyaa?"

"When I first arrived... I didn't recognize someone."

"Who?" Kuroka asked with a furrowed brow.

Sure, Eren couldn't see through the bandages he used to cover his marks, and while he was on the bench, he couldn't use his powers to make up the difference, but he was no fool. Anybody who could pull one over on Eren Yeager had to be an absolute genius.

"...Sona."

He said it so quietly that Kuroka almost didn't hear him, and it took her a moment to place the name.

"Leviathan's sister, nyaa?" Kuroka asked in disbelief. "The Sitri Heiress? How did she trick you?"

"I... didn't know she was a devil initially," Eren said, still facing away from her. "She was using a fake name. And I had only checked on Rias because of Kone-Shirone, so I didn't recognize who she was right away."

The tips of his ears were red, and there was the slightest flush to his cheeks.

Eren was... embarrassed?

"How... how long did it take you to realize?" Kuroka asked, biting her lip between her teeth.

"..."

"What was that?" Even with her enhanced senses, Kuroka hadn't understood the words due to the low volume of Eren's voice.

"... a year."

Kuroka couldn't help it anymore.

"Nyahahahahahaha," she howled with laughter, falling over and rolling around clutching her sides in mirth, not caring that she was dirtying her kimono. She laughed and laughed and laughed as Eren's face darkened further with embarrassment and rage.

"It's not my fault," Eren tried to defend himself. "She didn't act like the devils I've met. And when Rias said she was a friend, I thought she was a contracted magician. Sona's that type. Only when I started learning to sense to replace my eyes did I find out she was a devil, and I only found out her real name a few weeks ago."

His embarrassed ramblings just kept Kuroka laughing and laughing, and eventually, Eren simply decided to stay quiet and let the cat girl get her mirth under control.

It took a while.

"Nyahaha," Kuroka giggled as she rose back to her feet, casting a spell to clean herself up as she retook her seat beside Eren on the bench. "Is that why you are so focused on sensing magic types? To be able to tell devils apart?"

"You know I am terrible at learning anything. Without cheating with the Path, I only got a vague sense of energy before," Eren nodded, his embarrassment fading into his normal world-weary tone. "I can tell you are more powerful than the other devils, and you have demonic energy instead of Light or regular magic, but that's it."

"Why couldn't you just check through the Path?" Kuroka asked.

Eren paused at the question, hesitating to answer.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Kuroka was the only being on earth whom Eren had confided with the true scope of his abilities.

Yes, he had absolute knowledge of the actual future in which he'd live, but he could also explore other possibilities. See the Paths he didn't take. He had sometimes used it to gain information that he shouldn't have by peering into timelines that never happened.

There was no reason he couldn't have just looked at a timeline where he asked the Sitri Heiress what she was or seen in the future where he would come to learn about her true identity.

It was one of the reasons Eren was so hard to trick. He was sharp, of course, but he could also know what future versions of himself would come to learn.

"I don't just lose my future sight while sitting on the bench," Eren eventually answered. "The part of my abilities that allows me to experience my whole life at once and see possibilities is hampered by this bench. I can't see it or anyone who I meet for the first time on it. They are... protected, I guess. I can't see them at all in my future. They are completely immune."

"I'm invisible, nyaa?"

"No. Just those I met for the first time while I was on the bench. It somehow inhibits my powers, which is transferred to those who sit with me. There is only one exception so far: he didn't sit on the bench when we first met. And even then, everything around the bench becomes fuzzier and fuzzier the closer it is in time and place to the bench. It's... disrupting me and nullifying me completely while I touch it. Like a... curse or something. I don't know the specifics."

Kuroka smiled. It was reassuring to see that despite the year apart, she was still the one he trusted the most. He answered almost every question she had without reservation.

The only exceptions were details about his past before his rebirth.

Kuroka didn't blame him.

Eren's condition meant that if he ever talked about his past, he would be experiencing those feelings all the time because he would be constantly reliving that memory in the past, present, and future.

Still, this gave her an idea. A hope.

"They can change your future?" Kuroka tried to be sly about the question, trying not to alert Eren to her intentions.

She should have known better.

"No. They can't," Eren denied instantly.

"But you can't see them."

"Just because they are invisible doesn't mean they aren't there. Even with this bench, my future and my memories have not changed. And they aren't the only ones that I don't see. Billions of people all contribute to the future in a billion ways. I cannot see all of that, even with the Path. I change one thing, and a million things change in other timelines. Even with infinite time, I am still just one man. I cannot see every future. I can say one thing for certain, though."

Eren sighed, his voice deadening further and further as he spoke until the exhaustion at the idea seemed to overwhelm him.

Then, in the same tone he had on the first day they had met, empty of all hope, joy, and will, Eren repeated his words to her.

"I will never have children."

Drat.

Still, Kuroka had learned more about the ability and discovered another avenue of weakness.

Before today, the biggest one had been the fact that Eren couldn't read minds. He could see actions, events, and consequences, but he had to be the one to piece together motivations if nobody told him. Cheating by looking into the possibilities didn't help if no version of Eren he looked for ever learned it.

And he had to actively look for it. He had infinite time to do so with the Path, but if he never had the idea or decided to look, he'd never learn something.

Therin lay her most significant advantage.

Kuroka would never, ever tell Eren she planned to go against him.

Not under torture. Not under threat.

She had long ago vowed that in no timeline would she ever betray Eren Yeager until she had the perfect plan, one hidden from his ability.

It was the only way for her goal, the future she wished for, to come true.

And she was close. So close.

Eren had changed.

More than Kuroka had ever dreamed of, Eren had changed.

Eren was embarrassed. He was angry. He was talking to people and making jokes.

Eren might not laugh or smile, but he was connecting to people. Even she, who had been with him the longest, and Vali, whom Eren had taken under his wing, had never been able to provoke half the emotions Kuroka had seen from the boy over the last few days.

For as long as she had known Eren, he had been... empty.

Driven to action, but not to will. A machine going through the motions, performing tasks without knowing why it did so.

Occasionally, very occasionally, his real emotions would peak through, usually in bursts of rage and violence, but they were always the exception that proved the rule.

Only now, on this bench, could Eren truly live.

"You never know, nyaa," Kuroka said playfully, cuddling back into Eren's side. Just because she couldn't access the Path to train didn't mean she wouldn't still curl up in her usual spot.

"I do," Eren denied, his voice unbending steel. "The Path is a bloodline. A connection between past, present and future to everyone who shares my genetics. If there was any Eldian in this world, now, in the past, or in the future, I would know about it. I'd be able to see what they see. I'd live every second of their life just as I do my own. But there is no one connected to me. No one before or after. The Path of this world was born and will die with me."

As if Kuroka would let that happen.

Eren Yeager did not get to die. Not until he had lived a long, happy life.

With her, specifically.

And Shirone.

And a few dozen kittens, interspersed over their millennia of life.

It would take a lot of practice, but Kuroka didn't mind. Devil fertility rates were notoriously terrible.

Right now, it was just a waiting game. After Eren fulfilled that promise he had made all those years ago, after everything he predicted came true, Kuroka could put her own plan into motion.

For now, she'd enjoy spending a cozy summer with the man she loved.

The other devils would be back at the end of summer, and she'd have to be more subtle then, lest their scary siblings find out where she was and go cat hunting.

Really, they were such Sis-cons that even the higher-ups in Khaos Brigade knew it. It was why Kokabiel had targeted them in the first place.

Kuroka shook her head. Her thoughts had been idling for long enough that she almost fell into another nap.

Curse Eren and his comfortable lap.

Kuroka had Eren Yeager all to herself right now, and he was more open than ever before. If she didn't take advantage, she'd forever regret it.

Kuroka could be lazy and procrastinate later.

"Tell me about yourself, nyaa," the Black Cat said lazily. Ok, she could procrastinate later.

"...What do you mean?"

"Anything, nyaaaaaah," Kuroka yawned. "About your past? Your world? Your friends? I just want to know."

"I..." Eren paused. "I don't know. What should I say? Looking back, there is so much and so little. It's all... tainted. By pain. By what happened later."

"Tell me about good times," Kuroka said softly. "When you were happy."

"When I was happy?" Eren asked as if wondering when such a time was.

"What were you like as a kid?" Kuroka prompted. Then, just for emphasis, she took his empty hand and placed it on her head. It was just to provide Eren with some physical comfort and not because it felt good. Really. "You must have some good memories."

Slowly, hesitantly, Eren started to move his hand.

"I do," he admitted.

"So tell me about them."

"I... suppose." Eren was quiet for a long moment as if deciding what to talk about. "I was a terrible child."

"Hmm?"

"I was," Eren nodded. "Always getting into fights. Being lazy whenever I could get away with it. And I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I still don't."

Kuroka wouldn't say that. Before Eren had left, getting information from him that wasn't instructions was like pulling teeth.

"My mom was always scolding me, patching me up, or apologizing on my behalf. My dad... He never got mad." Eren paused again. "Looking back, I realize he was trying to let me be myself. To not impose his way of life on me. To make up for his mistake with his first kid. He didn't want anything special from me. He just wanted me to be happy."

"The brother you told Shironyaa about?"

"Yes. My dad was... terrible to him. I love my dad, but he made mistakes." Eren shook his head. "Not as much as me, though. He was a better man. He let go of his hatred. Even when my mom... even then. He would have let them go."

There was another pause. Eren stopped petting her ears, so Kuroka shifted them back to happier topics.

"What about Armin?"

"Armin?" Eren blinked, coming back to the present. "Oh, right. I told you about him."

"Did you not want to?"

"No," Eren shook his head. "It's just I think that was the first time I ever said his name. Hearing it from you was unexpected."

"Why?" Kuroka wasn't surprised that he hadn't said Armin's name in his life. If he wouldn't tell her, who would he tell?

"Talking about him and... Talking about any of my past is hard, but those two... They're different. Even when the whole world was against me, when I declared war on the whole world and got one of our friends killed, they still would have sided with me. Not because I was the choice that saved them or gave them power, but just because it was me. They would have turned against the whole world for me. I had to do some... I had to give them motivation to not join me."

As always, hearing Eren mention, if even obliquely, to the woman he had loved sent a pang of jealousy down Kuroka's back, and her tails waved in her agitation.

Best to lead him back to happier thoughts again.

"How'd you meet Armin, nyaa?"

"He was being bullied," Eren shrugged. "I must have seen him get beat up a half dozen times. But no matter what they did to him, he never fought back. Not once. I wanted to know why. Was he just a coward?"

Eren's voice took on a quality, a note of nostalgia? Whistfullness? Fondness?

"He wasn't. Armin was the bravest, best of us all. The entire time they were hitting him, he was fighting a different war. One to be better. If he threw a punch, he'd lose that war. I admired that about him, but I wasn't him. If Armin wouldn't fight back, I would."

"That's how you'd get into fights?" Kuroka grinned, imagining a chibi Eren standing up for an imaginary child. "You were defending your friend? How cute."

"I lost," Eren shook his head wryly. "I'd see them ganging up on him because he wouldn't fight back, charge in without thought, and get beat for my trouble. If it wasn't for... Anyway, it was always the three of us. Before, and after... That Day."

Eren took on a more pensive, whistful tone.

"I don't think I would have made it through those two years after... after my parents, if not for those two. I know for sure I wouldn't have made it through training, or even my first mission, without them. That's how it would usually go. I'd mess things up, and they'd fix it. I was a terrible child. An awful friend."

Kuroka idly wondered how much the 'Child of Evil' moniker Eren had gained had affected him.

Then she shook off the thought and, once more, steered Eren away from his blue mood.

Eren wasn't making this easy, but Satans damn it, she was going to make him happy.

"Tell me about your training," Kuroka prompted. "What was it like?"

"Hard," Eren said instantly. "Increadibly difficult. A third dropped out in the first week. Another third never finished. They either dropped out, were kicked out, were too injured to continue, or died." Despite his words, there was pride in his spirit. "But... they were good times. The world was simple. You train. You get better. Every drop of sweat or blood you shed in training was so you had that tiniest chance do not die later."

Eren shook his head as if in disbelief at his younger self.

"We were so young. So dumb. We had no idea what the world was truly like. But the 104th... they were comrades. Friends. A replacement for the families we had lost. After three years together, our bonds were strong. Unbreakable. Or I thought so, at least."

Having learned her lesson from last time, Kuroka didn't give Eren time to descend into melancholy.

"This was your military symbol, right?" She asked, tapping his cane.

"One of them," Eren nodded. "There were three divisions, each with roles and their own symbol. The top ten in training got to choose which of the three to join, but everyone else was assigned their position. People trained harder to get to choose a cushier position."

"Were you in the top ten?"

"Number five," Eren nodded. Kuroka had trouble imagining four people better than Eren at anything physical but understood he hadn't always had his current abilities. "The position didn't really matter for me, though. I had always planned on joining the Survey Corps. They had the highest mortality rate and were the most desperate for volunteers, so anyone could choose them. Even if I didn't reach the top ten, I still would have joined them. I didn't train hard for the position. I just wanted to get better. To be able to kill more, to be free. And the Survey Corps represented that to me."

Eren ran his fingers across the hilt of his cane, feeling the carved wood.

"This symbol means to always to always go forward. To fight rather than die in a cage. To fight for hope, for a better future. For humanity. For a world where we didn't have to live in fear. If I was going to dedicate my heart to anything, it would be to the Wings of Freedom." Eren's fingers trailed across the two wings set into the handle. "Thank you for this."

"I didn't manage to surprise you, nyaa," Kuroka pretended to pout. "You found out immediately when I started making it. You are the one who told me how to carve the handle. You cheated."

"You decided to make it, not me. Just because I see the future doesn't mean your choices are any less yours," Eren shook his head. "Everyone makes that mistake. Even if I could control people, I wouldn't. Just because I've lived the future doesn't mean people don't affect it. They do. They are still free. They are still making the choices. I just see the result."

"You're cheating," Kuroka summarized plainly.

"If you want to think that way," Eren allowed. Then he paused, hand resting in petting her. "That first day, when we met, I already knew you'd give me this cane one day. That doesn't mean your feelings or choices mean any less to me. So, thank you, Kuroka. It is the best gift I've received in a very, very long time."

Kuroka felt her face flush at the softness in Eren's voice. She had never heard him speak like that before.

Kuroka knew, at that moment, that Eren wasn't just speaking of the cane but of all their time together.

It was as close to a confession as she had ever heard from Eren.

"You're welcome," Kuroka's voice was just as soft as she nuzzled deeper into his lap.

Eren had changed.

Kuroka hoped he could continue to change.

The two spent the rest of the day together in quiet companionship. In the end, Kuroka succeeded in making the day a good one, even if Eren didn't make it easy.

At some point, the two lazy lovers slipped into a doze and passed the day napping away on the bench.