chapter 1: Trost Academy

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Trost district

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Trost district.

A paradise where sports cars, shopping centers, and marbled water fountains lined the streets from north to south and east to west.

And smack bad in the center of the bustling city stood an enormous pristine building lined with white bricks and polished blue tinted windows. Its entire essence oozed ideal perfection. Trost Academy, the city's pride and joy.

A fortifying standing contradiction to the boy currently planted at the front gate.

Beads of sweat could be seen sliding down the crevices of Eren's face, whether from exhaustion or nerves he couldn't yet tell. As if being the new kid in his senior year of high school that was in an entirely different city wasn't bad enough, the dumbass forgot to change the time his alarm went off. It had slipped his mind the night before that a new school meant a differing schedule, hence himself still operating on Shiganshina High's delayed timetable.

Luckily for him, mommy Carla wasn't so stupid, so when she noticed that Eren hadn't descended down the stairs for breakfast yet, you best believe she went in there and whooped some Jeager ass. It was because of Carla's thoughtfulness that he was only running behind a full ten minutes, though Eren doesn't take much time to get ready.

So here he was, taking in the glory of what was to be his brand new alma mater. He leisurely made his way to the front gate and displayed his temporary ID to the security guard who in turn allowed him to finally step foot inside his latest ecosystem. Which is actually a very humorous way to describe the academy since usually when a person pictures an ecosystem, one would see animals, trees, water, or any natural aspects that came from wild life.

The academy is the exact opposite of that idea; as opposing as black and white. Not a single weed out of place or bird shit staining any of the bricks - it's clear that someone takes exceptional care of the place.

It is currently 7:15 am and Eren had just acquired his schedule as well as his locker number from the front office, he is now waiting patiently for his student body president to show him around the halls as well as to grab his permanent ID from whatever room they were being made in — he has already forgotten the exact number.

Just as he was falling asleep in the very comfortable chairs of the front office, that almost caused him to froth at the mouth when he realized they were indeed massage chairs, an enthusiastic voice introduced themselves.

"Hey there! You're Eren, right?"

Right before his eyes stood a tall, tan, and freckled god. His dark hair was parted in the middle, with some of it ghosting the top of his face, and the freckles that decorated the apples of his cheeks only enhanced the bright smile he directed towards Eren. His clothes were impeccable, without a wrinkle in sight, and a very obviously expensive diamond studded watch was wrapped around his wrist, putting Eren's own withering one to shame; he'd gotten it on his twelfth birthday as a present from an aunt that he can't remember the name of.

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