GUILTY HERO

01. The Reason

You were young, but your affections weren't any less genuine.

Your ambitions weren't as grand as his, but they weren't any less valuable. All you had ever wanted was to grow old together, to live in the internment zone as your parents and grandparents had done. To maybe have kids and raise them the way Marley intended because that was the sole salvation. But Reiner's motives had never been in line with yours.

All he'd ever striven for was to save the world, to become a hero. As if any Eldian could ever be seen as one.

You had implored him not to join the Warrior Program, but he hadn't listened. He had gone on to become one, leaving behind a proud mother and a broken-hearted adolescent lover. While she had found solace in his bringing their family honor, all you could dwell on was how he had shortened his life span and deprived you of the humble future you'd always dreamed of building with him.

So why did he want to talk now? What was there to say? Did he want to admit that he had regrets, or was it to flaunt that he had made the right choice?

Whatever it was, his only purpose was to make himself feel better.

Selfish piece of shit.

In all honesty, you weren't much better yourself. Every emotion of animosity you'd been harboring since his departure was fueled by your selfishness. The selfishness of wanting to share a future you'd never even stopped to ask yourself whether he'd wished to be a part of. The insensitive indignation of being let down when nothing had ever been promised to you.

But perhaps you had purposely chosen not to let go. Because blaming him was much easier than accepting the reality that, unlike what you had always believed, your naive childhood love was maybe not reciprocated.

Days had passed since the return of the Warriors. You had spent them confined at home, your cage within a bigger cage, lest you accidentally came across Reiner in the streets.

Your mother had visited the Brauns often, as was her habit, every time bringing news of him; of how much he had grown, of how the war had refined his traits and toned his build, of how proud his mother and his family were of him.

There were nights when all her descriptions of him took shape behind your eyes, an aching to see them for yourself rising in the pits of your denial. Sleep was the only remedy to such undesirable wants, and waking up with a sour mood was a given the morning after.

You hated that your brain worked this way; that it deliberately chose to disobey and torment you in ways no one else could. It was your biggest enemy, and you truly wished you could turn it off—reset it, even.

But the latter would erase all memories of him. It would eradicate all the love and wipe away all the hate. And you wanted to retain both.

News that the Warriors were out of town for a few days in preparation for the upcoming festival was brought, and you couldn't have been more relieved. Your mother urged you to go outside to catch some fresh air and bask in the sun rays.

"You have been withering away here. How do you expect to attract anyone with your ghastly figure? Meet with Anabella and go around a little. Who knows, you might catch the eye of a doctor or engineer."

Of course, that was her concern. It seemed that she had lost hope in you ever wooing a Warrior and had now moved on to other professions. At this point in your life, she thought that marriage would be your only escape. She had always been against you 'straining your eyesight and deteriorating your health with those needles and threads', despite knowing very well that the craft was the only thing keeping you sane.

You obliged, nonetheless, and stopped by Anabella's house after getting ready. You needed some materials and sewing articles anyway, and this was your chance to make a few stops at the fabric and craft shops.

Liberio was as bustling as ever when you set towards the local market with your friend's arm in yours. Her wandering gaze shadowed every male figure your age, but yours remained fixed on the cobblestones. Her crush on Colt didn't seem to stop her from seeking other options. He was to inherit the Beast and sentence his life as well, anyway, so you thought it smart of her.

"Have you heard word about the Tyburs? Who knew Eldians could be regarded so highly. What an honor! I think we should find ways to mingle during the play. Maybe they have a young heir. Ah, to be part of such a noble family. To travel the world and not be called, 'Spawn of the Devil.'"

You did not answer. If you were to open your mouth and speak about those traitors, who knew where you'd be sent. Paradis was no longer a viable punishment, but Marley had alternatives for sure.

The tour around town proved helpful, replenishing your spirits with some form of vigor. You stopped by a stall for some sweet orange juice and after your purchases were made, returned home.

"I'm back," you called out into the hallway as you set the bags down and took off your shoes.

"You're finally here!" Your mother emerged from the living room; her expression was ecstatic, agitation visible in her moves. Rushing towards you, she slipped into her shoes and wrapped her scarf around her head before whispering, "I am leaving for some errands. We'll have lunch when I get back. Go inside; you have visitors."

And she was gone after it. You stared at the closed door before noticing a pair of unfamiliar, black boots by the closet. You had no brothers, and your father died long ago.

Your heart sank to your knees. She wouldn't do you like this, would she?

Oh, but she would. She was uncaring and insensitive like that.

With clenched fists and apprehensive steps, you neared the entryway of the lounge, a broad figure clad in a beige coat and a red armband permeating your vision.

As soon as he sensed your presence, he turned to face you and called your name, voice much deeper, much more mature and jagged than you last remembered it. But what did you even remember? The child you had known was long gone.

His gaze locked with yours in great astonishment. He stood quietly for a moment, taking you in full as if getting familiarized with your face anew before a small, almost apologetic smile pulled at his lips.

"I'm sorry for coming uninvited. But I just wanted to see you. Your mother told me how busy you are, so I won't take up much of your time."

Transfixed, you could slowly feel it all coming to wash over you. Every emotion, every memory, every hope, every regret, every guilt, and every reproach. You staggered, bracing yourself against the doorway, and Reiner hastened to you. He asked if you were okay, but his face from up close only made your vision grow slushier. No words were able to leave your mouth, but your expression was enough to frighten him, and he carefully guided you to the couch.

Panic-stricken, Reiner knelt before you while you cried your heart out, elbows resting on your knees and face buried in your palms. Your hands trembled, as did your lips when you eventually unveiled your tear-stained cheeks.

He asked if you needed anything. After taking a deep breath, you managed to utter a breathless, "Water."

Unassisted, he went away to find the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a glass and tissues. Barely able to swallow a few sips, you dried your tears, and Reiner suggested that you lay down.

You did as told and, upon watching him standing still, countenance aghast and hurt, thought that he was going to escape. Without a second thought, you reached for his hand. It took him by surprise, his overwhelmed stare softening ever so slightly as he calmly reassured you that he wasn't going anywhere before he settled on the floor beside you.

Your eyes remained fixed on your entwined fingers as the gentle strokes of his thumb on the back of your hand lulled you to sleep.