In the Belly of the Giant

Part 3

Joey paused, his hand on the gate. The small cries continued, like the wailing of a tiny creature, coming from a cluster of leaves near his gigantic boot. Curiosity got the better of him, so he crouched down on his heels to investigate and brushed back the verdant hedge leaves with his finger. Hiding underneath was a human teenage girl, sobbing uncontrollably with her face in her hands. She was such a tiny, delicate little thing, with raven hair, dark olive skin, and wearing the forest green school uniform. Joey was struck by how much she reminded him of Eren as a teen. The girl, noticing that the shade of the leaves had disappeared, looked up and let out a terrified squeak when she saw the giant cop towering over her. She froze up in fear, unable to move.

"Hey there," Joey murmured, keeping his voice soft. He wasn't sure what to do. The miniscule human was clearly frightened of him, and he didn't want to scare her more, but he didn't want to just leave her there when she was in such distress either. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assured the human gently. "Why are you crying?" He tilted his head inquisitively.

The human continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, overflowing with tears. She seemed to be struggling with herself to move, or speak, but her feet stayed rooted to the spot. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, gaping like a fish. Her tiny body started to tremble, as if she were just another leaf on the hedge, buffeted by the wind. Joey was tempted to lean in closer so he could see her better, but he knew such a move from a giant as big as he was would only frighten the poor girl more, so he refrained.

He scratched the side of his head. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm a police officer, see? I'm one of the good guys," Joey assured her. He smiled kindly, trying to keep his movements to a minimum.

Finally, the human worked up the courage to speak. "I-I-I'm sc-c-cared," she stuttered, barely coherent. Joey waited patiently for her to open up more. She gulped fearfully and continued, "I-I only j-j-just started at this school."

Joey nodded in understanding. "Is this your first time around giants?"

She confirmed with a small movement of her head. "I... w-was going to... r-run away," she stammered quietly. Joey had to strain to hear her tinny vocalizations. "I m-made it over to the g-gate, and... and then I got cold feet." She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and sniffled. At least she had stopped crying. "I thought I could make it back to the big wall, and get through the human-sized door, and maybe run back home, and maybe my parents would forgive my transgressions and take me back. Maybe. But when I saw beyond the gate, how huge everything in the city was... I just couldn't bring myself to go... I got even more scared. And then I was too scared to go back, and too scared to move forward, and I got stuck and overwhelmed and I didn't know what to do. So... I hid inside the hedge." Confessing her feelings seemed to lift a weight off her chest, and she was able to breathe easier.

"Aww, you poor thing," Joey uttered, more to himself than to the human girl. He hadn't fully internalized just how petrifying it must be for a tiny person to be surrounded by giants, even if the giants were friendly. Was this how Eren felt when she first arrived at the school? He recalled she had struggled quite a bit with fear initially, but he assumed it was because of the harm she incurred and the danger she faced. Now, after several years, Eren was still cautious, but also fearless, comfortable with the familiar presence of the behemoths around her.

He attempted to reassure the small human. "There's nothing to be frightened of here. Nobody's going to hurt you. You're safe." Even as the words escaped his lips, he realized his statements were blatant falsehoods. He couldn't guarantee her safety, unless he was constantly watching over her. She was so vulnerable and fragile. Any giant could hurt her, intentionally or not, or steal her away. Joey felt a sickness in his gut at the reminder of the recent reports of missing humans. The school, with its latest successful recruitment of human students, had been a locus point, and several students had mysteriously disappeared.