COMRADES • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 36: Fraud

THE WARRIORS WENT BACK TO WORK IMMEDIATELY. You found yourself alone most of the time, without anyone to keep you company other than your own thoughts, which was insufferable. You made excuses as to why you could not serve in the hospital anymore.

I'm traumatized by the suicide of that soldier, you would lie. His blood was on my skirt. This building is a bad omen for me. They were disappointed that someone so diligent had become repulsed by the work but you didn't come here to please anyone.

Mister Gerstner had approached you again at work, as he always did when he had nothing better to do and wished to play a round of chess. He was a retired veteran; he preferred to have little company, something you had in common. It had been entertaining at first but you often deflected his advances away. Your old anger at him had worn out, as it had with everything else in your life.

"I'm not happy here," you admitted to him once, on the day you played chess with him for the last time. "I'm going to quit working at this hospital soon."

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm not meant to be a healer."

"You are a hard worker," he said, giving you a compliment that made your dead soul half-heartedly leap. "You'll find a better job someday. Unless you're already planning to get married?"

"I'm not getting married any time soon," you said flatly. "But I am getting very busy these days. So it's my deepest regret right now that I might not be able to play another round of chess with you for a while."

"Let's play chess another time," he said. "You could improve on the sport. Beginner's luck doesn't last forever, you know."

You opened your mouth to say something witty, but the snarky words died on your lips. There was no use in being unpleasant to this man anymore and you owed him for making your life a little less miserable. Instead you held your tongue.

"I'll be looking forward to our next game."

At Warrior Headquarters, you idly sat on a stone bench as the cadets raced laps around the training grounds. Falco and Gabi pitted against each other in the lead while Zofia and Udo jogged at a much more comfortable pace from behind. Gabi was too arrogant to be as fond of Falco as he was with her. They were rivals with each other but thick as thieves. It puzzled you as to why Falco was so insistent on trying to outdo Gabi when it was evident that she had much more credit thanks to her bravery in the war.

Tawny dust clouded beneath their boots as they sweated and swore under the heat of the midday sun. Judging by their faces, they must have been running for about an hour now and it seemed as though their legs were dying to buckle under the strain. Pity filled you as Falco's soft face scrunched up in determination during his attempt to keep up with Gabi. You weren't sure why.

Falco stumbled a little. Then he stumbled again. The weight of his pack and the heat of the sun seemed unbearable already. Just when it seemed like he had gotten ahold of his balance while running, he tripped and abruptly slammed into the ground. Zofia and Udo shouted from behind him, but he was only looking at Gabi, who was still running ahead, a prideful smirk on her features while his were contorted in a wounded cast.

Ah, you realized bitterly. This again.

The days of your childhood, when your disciplinarian would swipe at your heels to send you plummeting onto the hard soil of the dry earth; the days of your youth, when your worn boots would slip across muddy grounds in the rain while you tried to keep up with the girl who would blankly stare ahead as she regarded your hard work as a piteous lack of aptitude.

Two remarkable people who had taught you a valuable lesson — never mess with the Ackermans unless it was your deepest desire to have your flesh meet the blades of their swords in the nastiest ways possible.