[ Levi doesn't remember. The more he knows of the future, the less he even wants those memories. It makes him feel a twinge of guilt, though, especially thinking of Hange and the others. They've lived it all, carrying that additional pain, the heartbreak. Death, even. They all remember the parts he played, but Levi doesn't, and can't shoulder as much of that with them. He can't balance out their pain with his own, something he's so used to doing. Part of him thinks that he should try, somehow. But the selfish part of him wants to cling to his ignorance for as long as possible, lest those memories start invading his dreams.

Besides, imagining losing the people you love is one thing. Experiencing it is much, much worse.

He's not in a hurry to know that pain.

But now that Eren has effectively lived that himself, Levi keenly realizes he's the only one left of them now who hasn't.

Is that fair?

He watches Eren, not even sure he'll accept it. He'd had the cup made a few weeks ago. ]

Yeah. [ Levi takes a sip of his own tea, his cup much more petite. ] Thought we'd keep it here for you to use when you come over. But it's yours, so - if you want to take it home, won't stop you.