𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐞. 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

{ thirty-one } the real dream

      Erwin knew when he first saw her, almost completely enveloped in that large black cloak, that there was a child under there. Still, he put her on the front lines where she killed Titans like that was the reason she was born. And that was fine with him, because she was bringing him towards his dream.

      He didn't need to sit down with her at that small kitchen table. They worked fine as two separate people, one Captain and one Soldier, and having a conversation with someone who hadn't spoken the entire year since she'd been enrolled was quite meaningless. To this day, he wasn't exactly sure why he sat with her then. All he wanted was to get his Chess Board. It was one of the only things besides showing Commander Sadies new strategies that kept his mind stimulated.

      He got it from his father, the teacher who inspired him like no other. Long ago, when the house was quiet and his father plated up their meals before bed, Erwin remembered when the older man pulled out the foldable Chess Board. Every night, his father would teach him countless game plans that would help him win the game. He was given a warm meal, fresh clothes, loving words, and dreams of the future all at once.

      Suddenly he was faced with a child who was capable of killing humanity's greatest enemy every day, and who kept her back protected by a solid wall at all times. The outside world didn't pique her curiosity, she didn't devote her heart for the survival of humanity or salute any of her superiors whatsoever. There was a child in front of him who seemed to have never heard of 'well done' before. A child who didn't eat with the rest of the regiment because of how little she trusted them. A little girl who kept a dagger bigger than her hand attached to her side.

      Erwin taught her how to play a game.

      He sat down across from her, unfolded his father's Chess Board and explained each piece and their significance. When they played one round from start to finish, she lost spectacularly. Barely six moves in and she was put in Checkmate. He remembered how tense she got after losing, like she was waiting for him to lash out in a fit of rage.

      To counteract her anxiety, he made her eat while having a bowl of the food she cooked in front of him as well. Who knew if she would have eaten if she wasn't ordered to. She had ducked her head to lower the gray scarf that blocked out her face but, even if she crouched down to take a bite, Erwin still saw the outline of her face.

      He could tell by her arms that she hadn't been properly fed in what he assumed to be years. It was like she was given the minimum amount of food that was required to keep a person alive and able to work. Her wrists were thin and her fingers were frail, but her cheeks still held a youthful round shape that only puffed out more when she chewed her food.

      Suddenly, Erwin felt like a monster.

      He was so enthralled with his dream of the future, that he allowed a child to be put on the front lines of battle for over a year. He had been ordering a little girl, no older than seven, to lay down her life if it meant he could get just a smidge closer to the truth that his father — he — always wanted to see.

      As a child, Erwin was responsible for the murder of his father. Now, as a man, he would be responsible for ending a child's life in the same way.

      No. That wasn't what he wanted.

      He left after she finished her bite, quickly packing up the game and leaving the kitchen so she could eat how she was comfortable. He stared at the board game for hours in his office that night, glaring stoically at the unmoving game pieces that sat comfortably on the checkered floor.