𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚.
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A girl who is constantly at war with her past now faces humanity's greatest enemy, but she has not yet avoided he...
[TW: Implications of suicide and suicidal ideation. Please be aware before reading.]
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|Year 844| One year before humanity's darkest day. ━━━━━━━━━━━━
SHE WOULD KILL HIM.
He was too loud.
His posture was stiff, but slumped. He wasn't focused, and she caught him muttering to himself once. She recognized it as 'mourning'. It was pitiful, disgusting, weak, and too loud. There was never a time for it, especially not with the ones who had the potential to be the target. As much as she didn't like to admit it, Levi had more power than her. Yet, he wasted it with every day he dared miss training.
It was shameful, how he was allowing himself to spiral into an emotional wreck. How pathetic it was, watching him skip every meal, and observing the dark purple that formed under his eyes. They were there before, but what was once purple was now such a deep shade it could be described as black.
Why didn't he understand? Wasn't it common knowledge? Bonds, connections, they are never meant to last, and yet he formed them anyways. Now that he was alone, it was the perfect time to better himself.
Kira forgot about the last time someone was better than her. The gap between her and the person never lasted long enough before she surpassed them anyways. She was good, then great, and then the best. Now, standing in front of her was someone who was so much better, so much stronger and so revoltingly weak that it made a spark appear within her. It made her angry.
How dare he waste away? She wouldn't allow it. No, She wanted to close this gap just as she'd closed every other gap that was created by others before him. She would surpass him, but she would only surpass him at his best. If she doesn't prove she's stronger, then wouldn't she be shunned from the regiment? What would they need her for if someone could complete the same task but much faster? Once she was at the top, she'd be useful again.
She was picking at her fingers again, forcing herself to use her book more frequently than she had in a long while. She couldn't surpass someone who was withering away, and she couldn't listen to someone who was supposed to be stronger than her lose himself to something as feeble as death. He needed to live so she could overpower him and end him at his best. That's what it meant to be useful. That's what it meant to surpass someone.
He was standing on the perch again, and he looked more relaxed than he had in two months. How frustrating. This is the way he wanted to better himself, by dying? He was thinner, obnoxiously frail, as if to taunt her. It was as if he wanted to show that he wouldn't allow her to transcend him because he would fall on his own. She stabbed her thumbnail into the side of her pointer finger and opened the door that led to the outside where he was. He sat down, dangerously unaware of his surroundings.
