𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 ⇢ 𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘹𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

good ol' days

TEN YEARS AGO,

Your father, Erwin Smith, had his thick eyebrows furrowed together. His face was tensed with stress as he worked through a long list of paperwork; his muddled mind kept travelling elsewhere as he struggled to concentrate on his work.

As you sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of his study, your eyes stayed locked onto his screwed up expression. You swayed back and forth, sighing to yourself with boredom.

You called out for your father for the third time in the past ten minutes, but Erwin ignored you once again. You were unsure on whether Erwin wasn't responding on purpose, or not, but the boredom was beginning to get too excruciating to handle.

You pulled yourself up from your father's floor, dusting off the tattered dress that Hange had recently fixed. You slipped out of his office: deciding to venture into the Survey Corps Barracks.

The Survey Corps Barracks was the only home you had ever known; the Scouts were your only family.

Each passing day in the barracks melted into the other, becoming highly boring with no-one to play or talk with; during your early-childhood, you grew to loathe living in the barracks. You were wary of other Soldiers, and frightened at night when the lights were switched off. The absence of a comforting parent only made your experience worse.

Your palm clasped around the crisp wallpaper; the maze-like hallways were barely lit up by the golden sunlight that scattered patterns on the wooden planks below your feet. Your fingers traced the edges of the chipped walls, your eyes slowly fluttering shut as you tried to figure out where your next adventure would lead you to.

Your curiously-wide eyes darted at different objects and people, waving 'hello' at complete strangers. Some Scouts, already knowing who this five year-old girl was, happily waved back and greeted you as you walked past. Others were confused as to who this child was, and why she was in a Soldiers Barracks.

Your eyes slowly ran up the corridor before easing at the sight of an open door - the aroma of fresh broth drifted through the hallway. You curiously sped up your pace, your interest peaked as you almost began to jog closer.

You jumped into the flavourful smelling room, peering at different groups of Scouts enjoying an early lunch.

You greeted some of your father's friends: exchanging a polite 'hello' with Nanaba and Mike.

Your eyes searched the Mess Hall with an innocently bright beam, yearning for something to do. Your pupils halted at the sight of a mysterious man sat in isolation: a man with a cold exterior of whom you did not recognise.

Your head tilted in curiosity.

The man had a glum expression plastered on his pale face, his shadow-coloured eyes blankly staring towards nothingness. He was sat alone on a large table, with nothing around him but a cup of brewed, black tea.

Feeling a friendly instinct to accompany him, you swiftly made your way over towards his table.

"Hello, there!" You exclaimed with a bright smile, watching the unknown man flinch.

His body immediately tensed with unease. His stern face formed a real cringe as he huffed to himself with confusion: "What the hell?"