𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙩 || Eren Jaeger

𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹

╳ ╳ ╳

Jean closes his eyes for what he promises himself will only be one second, but before he knows it he's completely spaced out in the crevices of his own mind, ruefully drowning out the voices of his comrades and his superior.

He is tired, excruciatingly so. But if he had to delve deeper and find the root cause, he'd figure out it's not necessarily exhaustion at all, but instead a lurking anxiety. Because he knows that soon... very soon, once the Survey Corps finishes the strategic planning for their surprise attack on Marley, he knows then he'll be truly exhausted. It is a hellishly unique exhaustion that he is familiar with. It ensnares the mind and the body, wringing out all human compassion until you're left feeling hollow, like tin.

It is post-war exhaustion. And he dreads it like a virus he's bound to catch.

"I'll be adding Oliver and Gus to your squadron. They have decent tactical aims when it comes to thunderspears. Got that? ... Jean?"

"Huh?" Jean snaps his eyes open, Hanji's words pulling him out of his reverie. He notices Armin give him a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, no problem." Jean quickly asserts in an effort to appear sharp. "Absolutely."

The whole squad is present in the board room, where most decisions and plans are formulated thanks to Hanji and Armin's prestigiously astute minds.

The two geniuses are the only ones standing. Everyone else sits; Connie on a chair near the window, his elbow propped up on the sill and ever so often casting bored glances to the city outside. Sasha is sitting comfortably on the chaise lounge, her foot tapping faintly yet impatiently on the hardwood, and it's no mystery to anyone: she's probably itching to go to lunch. Mikasa is both silent and attentive at the long mahogany table, facing opposite of Jean, who can't help but slump a little in his chair. He notices how serene Mikasa is; so consistently idle like the prospect of war and destruction doesn't faze her.

But Jean... his chest caves in at the thought of gearing up for war, especially a war against people. And although he often compares himself to Mikasa (who doesn't, honestly), he has no problem admitting that he can't maintain a dignified front in these circumstances.

There is no dignity in killing.

Hanji points to an area of blue water on a map sprawled over the table. "Armin, line up your boat close enough to the fleets so that—"

The door opens.

"Levi," Hanji pushes up her glasses and greets the man as he shakes the rain off his military coat. "Good, you're back."

He doesn't make eye contact but merely gives a grunt, and with a quick flick of his hair to disparage the water, he hangs up his coat.

"The game-plan is mostly done. We are confident we'll be able to pull through and reach our goal, that includes preparing for the worst. It's all about capturing the target. Uh, targets..."

Mikasa and Armin exchange meaningful glances from across the room. Jean notices this and frowns, understanding their biased dilemma.

"Mostly?" echoes Levi. His tone doesn't hinder from apathy. "If it's mostly done, you haven't been doing your job very well."

"Ahh, so supportive..." Hanji says with a thin laugh.

"So what's wrong?"

"We are short."

"Short?" Levi repeats.

"Not you short. Not like, what you see in the mirror." Hanji says with an infuriating blatancy that makes a few of the squad chortle. "I mean we're one soldier short."

Levi chooses to ignore her flippant comment, already invested in what sounds to him like a flummox. He sits, listening as she continues.

"We need someone to take down the Armored Titan. Someone skilled enough..."

"I have a feeling whatever you're about to say won't sit well with me. I can tell by the way you're beating around the bush." He says. "Just spit it out, four-eyes."

"We need Jo."

Several heads perk up, even Armin's. Hanji hadn't discussed this with him.

"Jo?" A discreet interest raises Mikasa's eyebrow.

"Jo?" Armin repeats like a scratched record. But he can't help it; the name sounded almost foreign. It's been a while since any of them had to speak it. "But, she said she's not coming back!"

"I haven't heard from her in ages." says Connie, his gaze long and recalling.

"I have. I try to visit her once in a while." Jean says, and although his spirits lift at the sound of the young woman's name, his expression is a surly one. "But it tends to be brief— she always leaves before I can get to really talking with her, claiming she's swamped with work."

Sasha sighs wistfully. "I miss her. She brought a certain... charisma to the group."

Connie oggles at her. "Charisma? Are we talking about the same—"

"Why Johanna?" Levi interrupts the nostalgic chatter before they can get anymore sidetracked. "Why not use psycho brat number two?"

Mikasa shoots him a stiff glare.

"Mikasa's already been assigned to take down the War-Hammer titan. Everyone's been appointed to their own respective areas, and I don't plan on repositioning. It'll throw off the plan's balance." Hanji explains. "I need to play by our strengths. And I don't know of any other soldier I can entrust with a task like this."

Silence.

"So how..." Levi draws out slowly, "do you plan... on convincing someone who can't be convinced?"

Hanji bites her lip contemplatively. "Maybe I'll make her an offer? Something she won't be able to refuse. I don't know what, though."

Jean pushes his chair back. "I'll go get her."

"No. I will." Levi says definitively, standing up. He goes over to the coat rack. "It's gonna take a firm hand to convince her. You guys finish the preparations here. I'll bring her back— even if she's kicking and screaming." Shrugging on his coat and flipping up the collar, he walks out without another word, closing the door behind him and leaving a suspenseful chill hanging in the air.

Nobody talks. The future is too uncertain to debate.

Sasha checks the time. "Can we go to lunch now?"

END OF CHAPTER 1