IF ANYONE HAD BEEN WATCHING the two a.m. train hiss into the station and ground to a steaming halt, they wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary about it: not about the conductors and porters who wrestled open its latches and threw back its doors; not about the mass of men and women, some in military dress, who streamed out and disappeared into the swarming crowd.
Not even the lone girl with the red armband who filed from one of its cars and stood blinking in the hazy light of the platform, dazed by the cathedral of noise and smoke in which she found herself standing.
Once she pocketed her hands and began to walk, carrying nothing but the clothes on her back, she bustled past the people of both Marley and Eldia, steps flattering as they neared the exit that would bring her to the internment zone. There was something oddly melancholic to this moment, a wayward salute to her destiny, and misery made itself comfortable in her bones, tasting the marrow in her spine that deemed her a wicked creature spawned from Hell.
There were people everywhere, she noticed. How long did these people have left? Six weeks? Five? Either way, the chances that they were going to be sound in body and limb a year from now were slim to none. All because of the phantom girl whose face they gave no merit. She could not bear to study them, refraining from letting her gaze sweep the steam-poured platform like a sentry.
People's eyes skipped over her, though they narrowed in dislike when they made notice of the red armband that was wrapped around her left forearm. Yet, she harbored not much attention, which was just as well, because who would believe that this young Honorary Marleyan woman could mean any harm? She was so normal, so ordinary-looking despite the dark circles underneath her eyes—even as she studied the world around her while keeping her head low.
Little did these people know that they were standing within the vicinity of a young murderess, and the number of crimes she would soon commit had only just begun.
-
IT WAS A LONELY WALK TO LIBERIO.
A light drizzle began to fall as you continued to trudge through the empty streets of Marley, through the intersections and roads that would lead you to the iron gates that sealed the rest of your fellowmen in. As you got farther away from the station, the noise faded more into quiet tranquility. Not much illuminated the boulevard other than streetlamps that hummed with static. When you paused and took a moment to take in what you had just done under a street lamp, it began to flicker eerily.
Even the street lights don't trust me.
The stars above you were low and muted, reduced by the smokes of Marley to a murky glow, an unseeable lantern winking through the fog. You expected that the skies would be the same, only a dull gray that would remind you of a miserable afternoon with no sunlight.
Dizzy from it, you half-closed your eyes and reached into your pocket to feel the cold surface of your pearl. It was an essentially useless relic of past memories but an object that retained some value nevertheless—that of a long, thin thread that connecting this alternate world to the equally insane but familiar one that you'd once belonged to; a thing that said to you, You are here, and this is real, and you are not dreaming.
It was just a lie you were telling yourself, you knew. This pearl was really just a worthless trophy from a murdered innocent creature. Beautiful, but its worth was undetermined. Unless you counted a temporary happy memory as worth something. And even that happy memory had been tainted.
The street light flickered again and the drizzle was still pouring. A cold wind rushed past as water droplets began to splatter on your face, and you shivered, reminded of those days by the violent sea. You wrapped your coat around you for a little more warmth and hurried off to the iron gates.
When you arrived, it was mostly deserted and the gate was locked. You tapped your foot impatiently on the paved ground, warming your hands by blowing your breath on them. And yet, no one seemed to notice you. Where were the guards?
The drizzle began to ascend into the rain and it would only be a matter of time until it would seep through the material of your coat and you'd be soaked to the bone. When puddles of slosh began to form on the ground, you decided that you had enough and cupped your hands on either side of your mouth.
"Hello?"
You cringed; the sound of your voice was raspy and you hadn't drank anything in a while. An old part of yourself scolded you for possibly waking someone inside the residential buildings up because it was rude, but you were mostly concerned about who might have seen or heard you instead.
"Hello?" you repeated.
You grumbled under your breath in annoyance and walked forward to hold the gates. They were like iron bars, trapping the innocent convicts that were better known as Eldians within the confines of its walls. Back then, when you had no memory, the sight of these high walls had given you the creeps and you couldn't understand why. But now you could.
No matter where you ran, no matter where you were actually considered welcome, the setting was always the same—you were just battle fodder and above all, a military slave.
You peered through the gates, blinking rain water from your eyes, to make out the square to Liberio. Yes, you could remember this nightmarish place very well. Even in the rain, it was very clear to you how drab the buildings were, how boring everything was.
If amazing inventions like cars or electricity didn't exist, you'd probably find this world of gray a very depressing place to live in. You knew that the place was probably under a budget, but honestly—was a cheerier shade of paint really that much more?
"Liberio," you muttered to yourself. "Where you can peacefully die a slow death." Then you hastily glanced around. Although it seemed like you were the only person in the vicinity, you still worried that someone might have heard you.
Finally you gave up and let go of the bars. For a brief moment you wondered if you'd have to do something ridiculous like climb the gate yourself. Scaling the walls would have taken less than a minute if you'd had omnidirectional mobility gear with you, but you didn't have a single weapon in sight.
Maybe you'd have to rough it out by spending the night in some public domain like a church or the gazebo in some park like a young crackpot. Normally you'd have pride, but right now you were just tired.
"Stop there!"
Someone was coming on the other side of the gate, and they were shining a flashlight in your face.
When his face came into view, you saw the Public Security Authority guard who had once apprehended you by these very gates a few years ago. What was his name again? Becker? Muller? It had to be the latter, because you'd never forget the gaze of the man who had punched you in the face. Apparently his friend was absent.
"You!" the guard—Muller, you remembered—thundered once he shone the light on your drenched face. "What the hell are you doing here?"
You lazily held a hand up in greeting.
"Hello," you said. "I was wondering when someone would show up."
"Why are you here, girl?"
"Hizuru sent me back early," you answered. "They say that Marley's gaining the upper hand in battle while they've over in Fort Slava, so I was given permission to return here."
"There's a system to these things, you know," Muller said gruffly as he took out a key and unlocked the gate. It creaked as it swung open. "Documents to sign, paperwork to do. Travelers to Liberio aren't allowed to just waltz right in whenever they see fit."
"Oh, I don't think there's a need for such formalities," you replied. "So how about you just let me in and write it down somewhere that I'm back?"
"That cannot be so," he said as you stepped into the internment zone. "Authorities must be notified especially for situations that arise like this. You came in unannounced, and without debriefing Marley."
You held out the permission slip, which you had forged, but that had the Azumabito stamp and symbol bright and clear under the glow of the flashlight. "I believe this legal document should be sufficient enough."
Muller inspected it, squinting at the paper as if he could make out the hints of fakery and counterfeit in its lines. He could not, as you had taken extra caution to pay attention to even the littlest of detail in order to travel all the way here. You'd be damned if you'd be taken into questioning because of one annoying guard who may or may not be holding a grudge against you.
When Muller was still in his thoughts, you jumped into conversation to sway him immediately.
"If I were in the habit of being a runaway, I wouldn't have returned to Liberio, would I?"
"I suppose not," he said, though he was still eyeing you with contempt. "However, there are laws you ought to follow, girl."
"Say, if our enemies were to storm this city at this very moment and there were no guards around, then I must not be the only one breaking the law, girl," you fired back. "What's one Eldian woman to you, anyway?"
A long beat of silence stretched through the two of you where you were being glared at. You had no time to care about what this man thought of you, you were only concerned about getting in without any casualties occuring. You could feel the cold raindrops splashing down on you, soaking your hair and wasting your time. Muller must have been able to sense your unease and impatience but made no hurry to speak.
"Well?" you prompted.
After what seemed like an eternity, the guard's mouth finally opened.
"Nothing. You are nothing," he said stiffly. "Just get out of my sight."
You scoffed. Without waiting for his consideration, you bowed your head and trudged on through the slosh.
What had once been a drizzle had now escalated into a full-on downpour. Muller made no attempts to stop you, and although you could hear him grumbling about arrogant young women under his breath. The hindering squeal of the closing gates as well as its locks were much more comprehensible, meaning that he had let you go for now.
It is late, after all, you thought. Everyone is tired. No one wants to deal with stupid girls when they're tired.
You decided it was better that way. It was better to disguise yourself to the rest of Marley as an average girl whose only purpose was to bear children and pass down her special blood. The quieter you were, the better. No one ever paid attention to background characters, which was just as well, because it wouldn't be long before your secret would be exposed to the world. Might as well live in silence while you still could.
The next moments passed in a blur as you walked the familiar road through the muddy shadows that led to the Jaeger residence. Your mind was on fire, trying to figure out a way to get it together, because it was asking you, "What now?"
You supposed that, if everything were to go to plan, there was not much you could do until the war would start and Liberio would be under attack. Until then, your role was to act normal and ease back into your boring life within the internment zone. How would you explain yourself? You might have been lucky with the guard, but what about the other people residing? It was only by a brilliant stroke of fortune that you had managed to even make it this far.
Stupid Eren, you thought angrily. This is all your fault.
Nevertheless, the battle strategy you had made with Eren had been all planned down to a tee. You were a lieutenant; you were trained to create tactics that would ensure the victory of your side. Over the years, you had gotten smarter, learned the best ways to crush those who got in your way—only you hadn't expected that all that effort would have come down to this.
Murdering innocent people and falling asleep in moving trains right after... just what kind of soldier had you become?
Still, the deaths of those you planned would act in your interest — in your people's interest — and that was all that mattered. It was just how war worked, and you were a military leader fighting in a war, so who was to say that you weren't playing by the rules of the game?
You knocked three times on the door to the Jaeger residence before a light switched on. When Mrs. Jaeger opened the door to see you standing there by the front, drenched, luggageless, and without a warning, she actually blinked at you, bleary-eyed and confused. She looked older than you last remembered her to be.
"Surprise," you offered half-heartedly.
"Y/N!" she exclaimed, leaping back a little. "You're back!"
"I'm back," you repeated.
"You didn't tell us you were coming!" she gasped, holding her heart. "You nearly gave me a stroke, girl, knocking on the door at three in the morning. Why, you're drenched! Please come inside."
You stepped into the home that was no longer your own. It felt like taking a step back in time.
You winced as droplets of water began to drip onto the floorboards that gave a little beneath your shoes. You took off your coat and wrung water out the door before shutting it and vainly shaking out your hair dry. Mrs. Jaeger left to fetch a towel for you, and you roved around, unsure where exactly to go. You settled on sitting by the kitchen table as the elderly woman began to prepare a cup of tea for you.
"You should have sent a letter beforehand," she said, handing you a towel. "We could have arranged for you to buy a better-timed ticket. You look exhausted."
"No, it's alright," you replied, wiping your face and hair. "The midnight train is cheaper than most."
"I thought Hizuru would have sent you back after the war is over," she added, setting the steaming cup before you. "And where is your luggage bag?"
"I was informed that the war was almost over, so Miss Kiyomi Azumabito allowed me to return earlier than planned," you lied, showing her the forged document. "And as for my luggage bag, I don't fit my old clothes anymore so I sold them."
"In Hizuru?"
"In Hizuru."
"Ah, well I suppose it's good to have company back home here," she said, taking a seat before you. "Zeke and the Warrior Unit are still off at the front lines, in Fort Slava. He says that this battle will be the one to end the four-year war."
"There's no doubt they'll be winning that one," you said. "Where's Mr. Jaeger?"
Mrs. Jaeger didn't move, staring at the floor like she wanted to drown it. "At the hospital, Y/N. He's been admitted."
"For what?" you asked, a hint of worry creeping up on you although you weren't supposed to really care.
She shook her head. "They're saying it might be bipolar disorder. Or the effects of dementophobia."
You tried to understand this. A doctor succumbing to illness so soon?
"When our daughter — Faye — died, our son Grisha tried to explain that the reasons for her death weren't what the Public Security Authorities were telling everyone," she said quietly. "He ended up on the wrong side of society. It landed him and his wife, Dina, into heaven. Zeke would have ended up the same had he not pledged his loyalty to our motherland."
"I'm sorry," you said, though you weren't really sorry. The phrase 'pledged his loyalty to our motherland' made you lose all sympathy.
"It's not your fault," she replied, standing up from her seat. "You should go get some rest, Y/N, I'm sure you must be exhausted."
You crept into Faye's bedroom. You began to feel unusual; like you were being watched, like Grisha Jaeger's little sister was still here, preserved in her youth, within the old walls. You could feel her peering at you through the cracks and holes.
Exhausted, you changed into new clothes that you had left behind before sitting the bed — Faye's bed, where she had once slept — and stretched out on the newly-changed sheets and blankly stare at the ceiling. The sound of rain splattering against the window was making you drowsy.
What had been the reason for that young girl's death? Grisha and Faye were just being children, and for having overstepped an imaginary boundary, it resulted in the brutal murder of that child. They just wanted to see an airship. And apparently to the Marleyans that was enough reason to feed their pet dogs bits and pieces of the flesh and bone of Eren's aunt.
You jolted a little. Eren's aunt. This was the Jaeger residence. This was where Eren's last remaining family members lived. And here you were, walking right into the manifestation of a family's fifty-year-old hurt that had somehow been passed down to you like a soon-to-be bride's poisonous heirloom. Just what had you gotten yourself into?
That night, strange and urgent dreams.
-
YOU WERE HOME AGAIN, doing all the things you used to do. Training around the Survey Corps Headquarters, sweat and heat radiating from your body as you jogged with Mikasa and Daphne. Shouting orders at the young recruits, their eyes wide and fearful of you, and Jean, Connie, and Sasha were laughing at the sight of them.
Dozing in front of a fireplace, and Levi was there, furiously scribbling at his paperwork. What he was writing, you couldn't see.
When his gray eyes met yours, they hardened with all the anger and fury he had been holding inside. His face was gaunt, wrung out from you leaving him. You tried to reach out and touch his shoulder, but your hand passed right through it.
You're a brat, he told you crudely. You're a little runt and an even brattier child.
Ashamed, you retracted your hand as though his touch burned your skin. You wanted to tell him that you were sorry, but the words would sound cheap coming from your lips.
Then you were in the Training Corps, and Commander Shadis was yelling at you.
You're just a little girl! he screamed. Go back to playing with your flowers and dolls!
The other cadets were watching you through their peripheral vision, silently judging and sizing you up. Seeing if you were going to make it or break down, or allow someone higher than you to degrade you like this.
The scene changed, and you were looking up from your grave under a rectangle of gray sky. The shadows of the dead surrounded you, their faces worn and covered in blood and wounded after having died so young. Marco, Oluo, Hilda, Nifa, Miche, and much more—too many to count. All the people you couldn't save, all the people that had died fighting alongside you in a battle that was barely won.
But then you heard laughter. Not a bright, cheerful giggle, but instead a bitter, sadistic guffaw. You — a second, clone version of you — and your friends were peering into the grave, and the second you was holding a giant sledgehammer while the others held large, tough shovels. Everyone except Eren had no eyes, dark black sockets replacing where their peepers should have been. He gazed at you, and you tried to call out to him to help you, but he was only watching.
"Come on, Y/N," your friends were urging the second you, the same way they had months ago. "Destroy it. Do it for us."
"Anything for my friends," the second Y/N murmured. "Anything to make you happy."
The second Y/N went to town on the headstone, raising the sledgehammer over her head like the executioner before bringing it down as hard as she could, over and over, until the tombstone finally broke. Bits and shards of the white stone rained down on you, and you hacked and coughed, but you were afraid to move around because you were surrounded by ghosts. And they began to whisper.
Don't forget us anymore.
A shovel of dirt rained down on you.
Don't forget what they did to us.
The scene went black, and when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in another grave. However, this one was different. The grave was big, and it endlessly extended on both sides like a line, and above you was an open sky. Shovels and bolt-action rifles littered the dirty ground around you, and in the distance, you could hear bombs. This was a bigger grave. Better known as a war trench.
Sitting on the ground in front of you was a young man dressed in Marley's soldier uniforms. He was wearing your white Eldian armband on the wrong arm. His beautiful face was covered in dirt, and his brunette hair had grown out a little bit on his shoulders.
"Eren," you whispered, tears flooding your eyes. So he was alive and safe.
Eren didn't hear you. You watched as he pulled out a large, thick knife, the silver blade's smooth and shiny surface glistening in the light. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it into a cloth before stuffing it into his mouth like a gag.
"Eren," you whispered shakily. "What—What are you doing?"
Eren positioned the knife over his left calf, and when you realized what he was trying to do, you began begging him to stop. You tried to move, but your entire body had lost the ability to operate. There was nothing you could do except watch as he took three counts before closing his eyes and digging the knife down his flesh.
"Stop!" you pleaded, clenching your knuckles as though you were the one getting your leg cut off. "Don't do this!"
Eren bit into the towel, hoping it would muffle his screams. It didn't work. His pain tolerance was relatively high, but it didn't stop him from screaming into the cloth as he dug the sharp blade down his calf. Dark red blood spilled almost immediately, and although you weren't a squeamish person, you thought you'd faint when he dug the knife so deep that it cut through entire layers of his own skin.
You never wanted to hear Eren's terrible screams of pain again. To see the tears running down his face as his muffled groans and cries were being swallowed by a cloth. To see his own blood pool around him, inflicted by his own doing.
There was an ugly cracking sound as he continued to push down the knife, and that was how you knew that Eren had broken through the marrow of his own bone. After that, his leg went numb and he finished up the job by cutting the rest of his calf away. You were horrified.
But he wasn't finished yet. Eren took a stray bullet from an ammo pack and held it between his fingers. He gazed at it for a moment, as though considering the use for this contraption. Before you could ask, he suddenly plunged the sharp bullet into his left eye. There was a sickening squelch as it lodged right through his green iris, causing blood to spill out of his eye socket.
You waited for him to use his Titan powers and heal himself, but none came. There was no smoke or steam emitting from his wounds, and you had a feeling that he was ready to bask in their pain for a long time. Unable to do anything, you could only watch as tears pooled in your eyes.
"Why are you doing this, Eren?" you asked him, your voice full of hurt. Didn't he understand? You just wanted him to be safe. It was as though he was intent on doing the exact opposite.
Eren looked up through his good eye and finally saw you. He must have thought you were a hallucination, because he had to stare for a few seconds before collecting himself.
"I'm sorry," was all he could say. "Please forgive me."
-
AFTER A FEW WEEKS, Marley won the war against the Mid-East Allies.
You sipped on coffee as you walked through the streets of celebrating citizens, all talking about how awe-inspiring the soldiers of the Marleyan army were for finally defeating the Allies in the Battle of Fort Slava.
A crowd was gathered around a man who was reading off the headlines of a newspaper: "Thanks to the incredible bravery of the Marley army, Fort Slava has fallen at last!"
According to the news you had heard, it had been Warrior cadet Gabi Braun that bravely charged into the battlefield against the armored train and took out an entire railroad by tricking the enemy so she could throw explosives. An impressive feat for someone as young as her.
However, you were less than pleased to hear that Marley was celebrating their victories. They are so ignorant, you thought, for thinking that their own country's army was invincible. Didn't they know that Marley was nothing without the power of the Titans, and the world was advancing into an era where technology beat them? They were fools for celebrating such a small win.
People here aren't so different from those across the sea, you observed, watching as they rejoiced in the end of the war. I wish I knew that before everything happened.
You shook your head and continued on your way. Your younger self had been a fool, and you were still caught up in this ridiculous game.
At the very least, this would mean that you'd get to see some friends in the Warrior Unit again. However you thought yourself to be very hypocritical for thinking that you even deserved their friendship. They had double-crossed you, and you had double-crossed them, which ought to have canceled out some prejudice.
Pieck and Porco were difficult to understand. Reiner would make you uneasy. Zeke... you could set aside your disdain towards him, but whenever his face crossed your mind you were duly reminded of the fact that it had been him who killed Erwin Smith, and it had been him who programmed his Titans with the ability to climb Walls and therefore killed your entire squad. He had done it for the greater good, and once again, you were being a hypocrite, but didn't you deserve to be selfish sometimes?
Then there were the Warrior cadets. Udo and Zofia and Falco and Gabi. They had always been wonderful to you, and you had always liked them. Your worries about them hating you once they realized what kind of person you really were were beginning to catch up, but let's face it—they were going to hate you for being a traitor. It was better to learn to live with it regardless.
And then there was Colt Grice. Sweet, unassuming Colt who had caused a lot of trouble between you and he-who-shall-not-be-named without his knowledge. If he still harbored his little crush on you, then he was probably going to be a heartbroken sap in no time.
When you returned to the hospital for work, people in the workplace stared at you. Who would start working right after being sent to a foreign nation? The answer was obviously someone like you — someone who would rather throw themselves into routine work instead of laying around and being forced to think thoughts.
You moved your stethoscope over a child's back. There were pronounced crackles in the right and left lower lungs, his oxygen stats were barely keeping above ninety percent and his skin was greyed. He was awake but there was a listless to him and his chest heaved more quickly than it should to bring in air.
"Pneumonia, most likely." you said. The wall chart showed an emergency cubicle newly vacant, there would be no waiting for this kid. You easily picked him up and ran past the folks who had been waiting four hours or more, taking him right into the room.
The doctor came instantly, ordering the nasal oxygen prongs that you were already hooking up. He listened to his chest, ordered lung x-rays, blood tests, fluid analysis and the preparation of intravenous antibiotics. With the infusion of oxygen the boy became less gray and you told his mother not to worry. You prepared to take the blood as his mother peppered you with anxious questions. What could you say? A medical helper wasn't allowed to diagnose.
"Good work, Miss L/N," the head medic said to you when you were done with your shift. "You're doing very well with your patients these days. Maybe one day we can start training you to become a doctor."
"Doctors heal people," you replied. "I don't know if I'm cut out for that."
How laughable, you thought. Here you were working in a hospital, a place where you were a caregiver for the sick and injured, all the while waiting for the day that you would become the reason why these hospitals would have to be filled. There was something morbid about the idea of a murderer working at a job meant for healing people.
The mother of the child took the time out of her day to pull you aside in the hallway and thank you for your service to her son. That she was glad that there were good people who were competent healers. Again, this was laughable. And pitiful. And outrageously depressing.
Marley was different now. Back then, when you had no memories to spare, you had seen this place as your home where you tried to fit in. There was nothing good worth remembering back then, and you had people around you whom you called your family.
But now, looking around at all the people around you, you felt lonely. There wasn't anyone you could talk to albeit maybe Mrs. Jaeger and the head medic. You strictly maintained a professional relationship with your coworkers, because you feared that getting your heart too attached to someone within the internment zone would only result in your weakness.
During your shift break, you sat down on a table by the hospital grounds, watching as the other nurses looked over their patients. You hadn't been assigned to a sick person yet, which you didn't really care about, but you made extra caution to watch over Dr. Jaeger whenever you came across him.
"Miss L/N," a familiar face greeted. You slid your eyes to see Mr. Gerstner wave a hand at you, a chessboard box in his hands. "I heard that the she-devil has returned to Liberio. Unannounced, too."
"Good to see you too," you said. "Are you here to berate me?"
"Berate you? I came to have a chat with an old friend," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of yours. "May I sit?"
You stiffened. You were lonely, but you weren't in the habit of making friends, either. "That is a public bench made for the masses, so therefore it is not in my power to decide as to whether you can sit down there or not."
"I see you're still as snippy as ever," he replied, sitting down before taking a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. "Want a smoke?"
"Offering cigarettes to young ladies now?" you drawled. "I didn't take you for that kind of man, sir."
"It's just my hospitality," he said. "And I suppose I shouldn't be offering cigarettes to someone working in a hospital."
Silence passed as you blankly watched Mr. Gerstner light the cigarette and take a deep drag. He was a smoker, alright. His wheezing voice and tobacco-scented clothes practically screamed that he was going to bite the dust from lung cancer one day.
Finally you asked, "Why are you here? The war isn't over yet."
"Eh?" he looked at you, trying to see if you were being sarcastic or not. "I can ask you the same question."
You mentally cursed yourself. Serves you right for trying to engage in conversation.
"I'm back because I got off on an honorable discharge," said Gerstner, taking another drag from his cigarette before exhaling it. When he saw you fanning away the smoke with your face scrunched up, he frowned and blew the smoke somewhere else. "Apologies. I came back because I was ill."
"Is that so," you said softly.
Gerstner laughed. It was obvious that you could see through his lie. But it was also clear that you had no interest in saying anything else about it.
"Well, congratulations on getting yourself out of the trenches," you said. "Was it hell?"'
"Couldn't take a damn nap without hearing gunshots fire away for hours," he replied. "The men down there dropped dead like flies. It's even worse in Fort Slava; it's a hell zone full of air raids and bombs."
The Warrior Unit was dispatched there, you remembered. The Warrior cadets are living in that hell zone.
"Well?" Gerstner prompted. "What was sunny Hizuru like for you?"
"Nice place," you said lamely. "I saw the beach. I went fishing."
"I see," he mused, taking another drag. You knew that he could tell that there was something you were hiding from him, but like you, he had no ill intentions of snitching. "Was it fun?"
You shrugged. "It was."
"And you were all pissy about serving Marley."
A cross between a mild scoff and an unamused laugh escaped your lips. "People change."
Sensing that you were in no mood to start reminiscing about the past, Gerstner jumped to the next topic and held out the box. "Ever played chess before?"
Soon, your eyes were narrowed at the board with the many wooden pieces. Sixteen for either side, black and white, opposing each other. To touch was to make a move, and you weren't exactly sure yet as to how to approach this match. It felt silly, playing chess with a man you barely knew, but you supposed that there weren't any better ways to pass the time.
Your moves were much more calculated than Gerstner's, and they required more deliberation, more planning, but not much weight. It didn't matter that the score was four hundred ninety-two to three hundred eight-six in his advantage. Your opening move had been a classic — moving your white pawn to the center of the board, which he had mirrored.
"You're doing rather well for a first-timer," he lamented. "I thought you said that this was your first game."
"It's not the first time I came up with battle strategies on the spot," you admitted.
The pieces continued to move in a dance across the board. Many positions and openings were made and played, mostly in silence, because you didn't feel like talking. Soon your side had lots of black pawn victims, which Gerstner only chuckled at. You remained blank and unfeeling, your face stoic as you moved your pieces.
"You know, if you learned to lift the corners of your mouth more, an old geezer like me wouldn't be your only friend around here," he said. "I suggest you try not to scowl." Of course, this comment only made you scowl harder out of spite.
"If you learned to shut your trap for once, then maybe an old geezer like you might have a wife," you snapped. Instead of being offended, Gerstner only laughed and said, "That is true."
The game developed as more pieces were brought into play. You developed your knights, Gerstner brought in rooks. He was still in control of the center, and he had moved on the flanks. He thought he saw an opening and pressed forward with his queen. You countered by bringing one of your own bishops across the front lines, putting pressure on one of your knights.
"You sacrificed both of our pawns, and now your king is in danger," he lamented. "All this just to ensure your win?"
"Sacrifices have to be made," you said. "If it means I get to win, then I'll do it. Even if I don't want to."
"You made a grave mistake using your other pawns," he replied, looking down at the board. "What's a pawn to a king?"
"The king is nothing without his pawns," you said. "And what's more so, the queen is much more powerful than the king by tenfold."
You moved your queen across the board, snatching the opposing king. You leaned back into your chair and folded your arms, silently basking in your little victory.
"Checkmate."
The two of you gazed at the board. It was true that you had obliterated the people belonging to your enemies. Sure, there were barely pieces left in the game, but who cared? What mattered was that you had won, and you had used your most powerful piece, which felt satisfying.
"Ah, but you're forgetting—either way, at the end of the day, the king and the queen go back into the same box as their pawns," said Gerstner, already starting to gather the pieces and keep them. "At least, until they're brought out again to play, and they can continue to fight one another."
You gave him a hard look. There once had been a time when you discussed with Eren about whether this man was a Restorationist or not. Either way, you didn't care. He was a compulsive liar and constantly saying things you'd rather not hear.
"Playtime is over," you announced. "I'm going back to work."
-
THE WARRIORS were scheduled to return to Liberio on a fine day. You were given permission to escort Mr. Jaeger to the gates alongside Mrs. Jaeger so they could greet Zeke. You were wary, but in a way also somewhat jubilant to see them after such a long time.
"Mr. Jaeger, I hope you won't strain yourself today," you said, walking with the elderly couple through the streets of the internment zone, where a crowd was gathered in front of the iron gates. "You know how distressing it might be to be in a place full of so many people."
"You work too hard," he said dismissively. "You ought to take a break once in a while."
You looked down at your shoes. "I have no reasons to take a break, sir."
The crowd was whispering in a low hush, and you could understand why. These families were anxiously waiting to see if their son had made it home from the war alive and unscathed. You wondered how tonight's dinner was going to go for the families whose sons didn't survive the war. It would probably be a sore sight to see those mothers standing alone, weeping for the spilled blood of their dead children.
Not so different from my people across the sea.
Suddenly the crowd went dead silent, and you could see why — the soldiers were approaching Liberio. Little children clung onto their parents at the front, eager to look for their brothers, uncles, and fathers. But they were nervous, and the sensation was infectious. You were dreading to see the Warriors, yet excited.
The soldiers stopped in a square formation, and you had to tiptoe to see whether you could make out any faces that you knew. Unfortunately, there were none, or so you initially thought.
An intake of breath was heard from the crowd as they paused to regard each other, and two guards opened the gate for the soldiers. After a few moments, the men at the front began to walk, finding their families. You watched as they began to embrace one another, laughter and happy conversations beginning. Loved ones crying tears of joy and relief the moment they saw their hero approach them. Alive and well.
Your shoulders sagged a little.
How were you going to risk the lives of these people?
"Grandma, Grandpa!"
You whipped your head around to see Zeke approaching you and the Jaegers. When he saw you, he looked taken aback for a moment. You hadn't informed him that you would come back so early.
"Zeke," said Mr. Jaeger, taking off his cap.
"I'm home," he said, walking forward to embrace his grandmother. "And I see that Y/N's arrived earlier, too."
"It's lovely to see you, Zeke," you said. Then you sent him a look that said I'll explain later.
"You've achieved great things, Zeke," said Mr. Jaeger, a proud expression on his face.
"No," Zeke replied, shaking his head a little. "Not yet."
So it's true. We're really going to do this.
When Zeke let go of his grandma, he spread his arms out and you embraced him. As soon as you did so, he leaned into your ear and whispered, "Why did you come back so early?"
"There was a little miscalculation," you replied. "I had to go rogue a little. Sorry."
He shook his head. "I should have known you'd run off somehow. My little brother did say that he would entrust everything to me. Nevertheless, I'm pleased to see you here."
"I wish I could say the same," you said with a watery smile as you let go of his embrace.
Zeke cocked his head towards the crowd. "You should greet the others. I just know they'll be ecstatic to see you here. Go on, I can handle my grandparents from here on out."
You nodded before stepping away in search of the others. The first person you saw was Porco, who had been standing with his mother. When he saw you, his eyes widened in shock, but he smiled at you still.
"Y/N L/N!" he exclaimed. "I—what? Wow, I didn't expect to see you today, of all days."
"I came home early," you explained. "I'm glad to see you. How has it been?"
"Same old, same old," he said. "You should go see Pieck. I'm sure she's dying for the presence of another woman. I'll see you around in the Warrior Headquarters, right?"
"You got it," you said before walking with him to find Pieck, who was with her father. When she saw you, she gasped before heading over to embrace you immediately. Porco stood to the side, watching you reunite.
You would have recoiled at the touch of her hug, but you reminded yourself that you needed to give them a reason to trust you. The easiest way to do that was to pretend to be on their side.
"Y/N!" she gushed. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you. You didn't write enough letters to us, honestly—you should have told us that you were back home already!"
"Sorry, it came as a surprise to me as well," you said sheepishly. "I'm just really happy that you're home. And that you're safe."
"How was Hizuru?" she asked. "It must have been so fun, at least that's what Colt deduced from you. Why is it that you only ever regularly corresponded with Colt, hm?"
Porco whistled lowly. Pieck gave you a knowing smile, and you forced yourself to laugh.
"No reason," you said coyly. "I just... wanted to hear from him, that's all."
To give the impression that your letters to Colt were harmless, you pretended to suppress a smile before looking down at your feet and tucking a strand of hair behind your head to feign a blush. On the inside you felt sick to your stomach for pretending to be so sappy and lovestruck. You could only imagine what your friends — your real friends — would have thought about this ridiculous display.
Porco began to laugh, and Pieck raised her eyebrows a little but laughed nonetheless.
"You know, Y/N, if you want to get with Colt, all you need to do is ask," Porco said matter-of-factly. "He's a little bit nervous when it comes to girls, so you might have to give him a little push."
"Pock, don't make Colt look bad like that!" reprimanded Pieck. She turned to you. "But really, Y/N—I'm sure that Colt will be so happy to see you. It's been a while, after all."
"He's with Falco right now," added Porco. "You should greet the Warrior cadets, too."
"Gabi is so excited to tell you about all the things she did during the war," said Pieck. You hummed.
"Yes, I've heard. She destroyed the armored train, didn't she? How impressive."
"Falco sustained some injuries on the battlefield, though," she said. "Colt had to carry him away from the fire. I'm not really sure how the little boy got there."
"Again, Falco is with Colt—you should see them before they go home," Porco repeated. "Be careful, though. Colt had too much to drink last night."
Pieck gave him a warning look as to prevent him from further damaging your image of Colt with stories about how scatterbrained he had gotten when he was drunk on the train. Porco shut up, and you pretended not to notice. You pretended to brighten up.
"I want to see the Warrior cadets," you said, which wasn't a lie. "I'd like to speak to them. Especially Colt."
Porco and Pieck began to laugh again at the charmed look you put on your face.
Oh, the things you had to do to destroy the world.
You wandered around without Pieck and Porco, drinking in the tear-jerking sights of families and friends reuniting. You should have felt something warm up in your heart, but seeing them only made you sad, not happy. It was hard to pick a side, and you had to remember that there were families like this too. In Paradis.
In the corner of your eye you could see a queue of the injured lining up against the wall. You almost felt sorry for them. These were the people who had no family to come home to. Suddenly, you heard a voice yell.
"Miss Y/N!"
Someone crashed into you, engulfing you in a hug. Then a second, then a third. There was a small flurry before you suddenly realized that the people who had ran up to you were Gabi, Zofia, and Udo.
"Get off, Udo!" Gabi said impatiently, pushing the boy away a little. "I hugged her first!"
"Let me hug!" defended Udo.
Zofia was shaking her head at their antics, but you took a moment to register the shock before finally pulling all three of them towards you. They had caught you off guard, and you were successfully thrown off by the presence of the children.
"All of you got so big!" you gasped, unable to keep it together.
They began to flock and chirp around you, cutting each other's sentences short before battling in a game of who could speak the loudest to be heard.
"We haven't seen you in so long—"
"Why didn't you write to us?"
"I bet you only wrote to Colt because you like him—"
"One at a time," you said, raising a hand up to make them stop. "I can't keep up with you three."
Gabi went first, her eyes brightening at you. "Miss Y/N, did you know that I destroyed the armored train? I had to take off my uniform, and tie a bunch of bombs to my foot with some rope, then I walked across the whole battlefield alone!"
"Yes, and—" Zofia began, but Gabi wasn't finished yet.
"Then I fell straight to the ground! The enemies in the pillbox were hesitant to shoot a girl, just like I thought! But there was still no telling. They could have shot me to death at any moment!"
"That's—"
"That's when I waited for the armored train to come. And then, once I saw my chance, I threw the bombs, and—" she began to mimic an explosion with her hands, even puffing her cheeks to make a booming sound. You were slightly shocked, and Gabi preened with pride when she saw the disbelief in your eyes.
"Right on target!" she said proudly. "The armored train derailed and flipped over. My big plan was a huge success!"
Udo tried to butt in. "And then Falco—"
"And then, when I was running away, the enemy soldiers started shooting at me with a machine gun!" Gabi said loudly. "I ran towards the hole as fast as I could! And just when I was about to eat lead, Fa—" she stopped herself, "—Mister Galliard protected me with the Jaw Titan and saved me."
"Wow, that's..." you trailed off. "That's amazing, Gabi."
Normally Gabi would have tossed her hair to the side and agreed, but this time her eyes only widened. "You really think so, Miss Y/N?"
"'Course I do," you said, placing your hand on top of your head. "It takes a brave warrior to charge into the battlefield with a plan like that."
Udo sighed. "Man, Gabi has us beat."
"Don't say that, Udo," you chided, turning to him and Zofia. "I'm sure the two of you will grow up to be great Warriors, just like the current batch."
"This will be great," said Zofia, looking up at you. "You can start training us again, if you're still up for it."
You paused a little. "I might be busy at the hospital. But I'll try. And anyway, shouldn't you kids be resting? Being on the front lines for so long can make a person go crazy."
"Tell that to Falco!" Gabi spat. "That nutcase wants to start training as soon as possible!"
"I'll talk some sense into him," you sighed. "Where is Falco, by the way?"
Suddenly the three of them began to wear weird smiles on their faces. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.
"What?" you asked.
"It's just Falco," said Udo.
"What about Falco?"
"Falco is with his family," Zofia answered.
"Falco is with Colt," Gabi said slyly, and the three of them began to giggle.
"O-okay," you said, unsure where this was taking you. "Where are Falco and Colt?"
"Maybe they went home," said Gabi ruefully. "I think you should go run after him, Miss Y/N. It would be romantic—" she pretended to swoon, "—if you chased after your soldier after being separated for so long, and leapt right into his arms when you reunite!"
You had to force yourself to laugh again.
"Don't be shy!" she said. "Everyone and their mother knows that you and Colt like each other, so you should just embrace that!"
"I just want to see him," you said. "I have to thank him for all the sweet letters he sent me when we weren't together."
Gabi squealed and clasped her hands together. She tugged on the sleeves of Udo and Zofia's uniforms. "You heard the lady! We need to find her dream boy!"
"I don't know about that," you said doubtfully. "My dream boy seems to have abandoned me."
As they ran off in search of Colt, you slipped away to walk around a little more. As you passed by the line of injured soldiers, you finally caught sight of Falco talking to an officer who was snivelling at the sight of the soldier in front, who had to be helped up after falling.
"Are they injured soldiers, Mr. Koslow?" Falco was asking. The man in front, who had his left arm in a tourniquet, turned to look down at him and sneered.
"What? Stay out of my way, you brat. These are Eldian soldiers with emotional trauma. They have no one to care for them, so they're going to be treated at the hospital."
Falco was mystified. "Even our guys?"
Koslow turned back to the queue. "That's what happens when you spend too much time digging trenches on the front lines. You live long enough with all those bombs and bullets whizzing by, like fwooo... KABOOM!"
The distressed soldier in front flailed around and knocked the other men behind him, causing a domino effect where they all fell to the ground. Some of them held their hands over their ears and began to whimper in fear. Others curled up into a ball, eyes wide and lost in a land where horrible flashbacks of war were playing. You were disgusted by the officer.
Koslow began to wheeze with laughter, while his other soldier buddy only chuckled. Falco immediately rushed over to man in front, who was sobbing into the ground.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "It's alright! Please calm down."
Falco turned to the second soldier. He had a slight mustache and goatee, as well as bandages that covered his forehead and left eye. His brown hair ran all the way down to his shoulders. His crutch had been misplaced, and you saw that he was missing the lower half of his left leg, right where the calf should have been.
"Your armband is on the wrong arm," he said. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll get better."
The soldier said nothing as Falco moved to attach the white armband to his left arm.
"You don't have to fight anymore."
"Falco," you called. "Let me help you there."
"Oh, look!" Koslow jeered as he saw you approaching the line. "If it isn't Miss Medic! Back from Hizuru already!"
Falco looked up to see you walking towards the back of the line, trying to coax the wounded soldiers into calming down and getting back on their feet. His eyes widened. "Miss Y/N?"
"Falco!" you greeted cheerfully, waving at him. Once the last soldier had been cared for, you stood up. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Falco didn't notice how the soldier he had been helping tensed up a little.
"Miss Y/N!" The little boy stood up from his place beside the quiet, long-haired soldier and ran towards you to give you a hug. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!"
"You're so grown-up, now, Falco," you said, hugging him back. "I missed you so much."
"Why didn't you write that you were home already?" he asked. "We would have been happy to hear from you."
"It was a surprise," you replied, brushing out the strands of his rumpled blond hair. "I was hoping to catch you off-guard. You're so brave, Falco. Fighting in the front lines just like that."
He shook his head. "I would have been a goner if it weren't for my brother."
"Where is your brother, anyway?" you asked. Falco snorted.
"He's out of his mind with the worse hangover of his life!" he exclaimed. "He'd be embarrassed to speak with you right now, but I guess you guys should see each other after everything that's happened."
"Hm?"
Falco cupped his mouth in his hands and yelled to the busy crowd, "Colt! Y/N wants to see you!"
You gently smacked him upwards from behind his head and shushed him.
"Falco, there are mentally sick soldiers here," you scolded, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You don't want to disturb them again."
"Oh, that's right," Falco said sheepishly. "Sorry."
You turned around to let your eyes briefly sweep through the line. Most of the soldiers looked out of it, albeit the one Falco had helped up. He was staring at the ground in front of him, his hair covering most of his face. Before you could get a closer look, the sound of giggling and teasing brought you back to your senses.
Gabi and Zofia were dragging a pale-faced Colt in your direction. As if sensing your presence, he turned to you, a hint of a grimace still stitched on his face due to the terrible hangover he had been nursing. He met your eyes, and you held your breath at his stare. Colt was handsome, around your age, and his uniform fit him snuggly.
As the cadets dragged him over to you and Falco, the other groups of well-natured soldiers passing by began to hoot and tease the boy. "Grice! Ain't that the girl you wrote letters to?" they snickered. "Weren't you all confident last night on the damn train? Why're you getting tongue-tied now?"
Gabi pushed him towards you, and Falco pushed you towards him, so now both of you were standing right in front of one another. You couldn't help it: heat was rising to your cheeks and your heart began to beat fast at his proximity. But you had to go along, you had to play it cool. You needed them to believe that you were an idiot for this boy.
In the corner of your eye, you could see that the cadets, Colt's soldier buddies, and even the Warrior Unit were stealing glances at you. The soldiers in the injured queue beside you mostly paid no attention, as they were still recovering from the earlier fiasco. That didn't stop the rest of Liberio from pretending not to watch with thinly-veiled interest. What an interesting pair, the future Warrior Unit captain and the noble-blooded girl from Paradis Island.
Great, you thought. We have a whole town for an audience.
Ignoring the faint blush on his cheeks, you smiled warmly at him and took his hand.
"Colt," you began, batting your eyelashes. "I missed you so much."
He began to stammer. "I—uh—"
"I've been worried sick for you every single day," you continued, clasping his hand between yours. "You're so brave for fighting out there. I waited for your letters all the time. I prayed that you'd be alright every night."
"I missed you too," he breathed out. Behind him, Gabi was screaming into Zofia's arm, unable to control herself.
Maybe if the circumstances were different, you would have giggled or squealed, but right now all you could think was that you were living a terrible, terrible lie.
"I'm glad that you're here," said Colt. "You didn't tell me that you had come home early."
"I came back months ago, actually," you said, which wasn't a lie. "I wanted to write about it in a letter, but then I figured that this would be a really great surprise."
"Well," Colt rubbed the back of his neck, "consider me surprised."
"Miss Y/N!" Falco interrupted, causing both of you to turn and look at him. "Do you want to meet our parents? They'll be happy to meet you!"
"Falco, don't interrupt!" Gabi exclaimed. "And don't you think it's too early to start introducing her to parents?"
"Well, aren't they together?" Falco asked impatiently, crossing his arms. "It's not too early."
Colt blushed and looked away. "We're, uh, we're not together."
"Not yet," you teased, making Colt blush deeper. The joys of manipulating men.
"Colt!" Zofia said, impressed. "You took one look at Miss Y/N and sobered up right away!"
An embarrassed look took over Colt's face. "Let's not talk about that, please?"
"The two of you should go drinking sometime," said Falco. "On a date. Just wait till Miss Y/N sees what you're like when you're drunk, Colt, it'll be a miracle if she'll still want to go out with you after that."
"Falco," Colt began to speak in a warning tone.
You waved them off and grabbed him so he was facing you once more. "Never mind them," you said. "Don't worry. I wouldn't mind going out for a drink with you, if you're up for it."
"Are... you asking me out?" he asked hesitantly.
"You kill me sometimes, Colt," you said, laughing a little. "But you know what? You look tired. You should head home and take a nice, long nap. I'll see you around Warrior headquarters whenever I come to visit."
"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously. "I mean, I don't want to keep you waiting."
You nodded. "I'm sure. I have important work to do at the hospital anyway—I need to head back to Mr. Jaeger before he loses his marbles. You go take a rest. It's been a long day, and er, you look a little pale."
"You sure?" he repeated, but you cut him off when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him in a hug, resting your head on his shoulder, causing him to sputter a little.
"I'm sure," you echoed. "Just take care of yourself."
"Okay," he said softly, and he hugged you back. Involuntarily you closed your eyes and blocked out the squeals of the Warrior cadets behind you.
When you opened your eyes and pulled away from the embrace, you found yourself staring right into Eren's beautiful green eyes.
"You're going to be okay without me, right?" asked Eren, his intricate features etched with tendrils of worry, concern, and above all—love. "I want to be sure that you'll be alright, Y/N."
Eren was the one holding you. Eren was the one looking at you with the adoring eyes of a lover boy. And here, in his embrace, you would be safe and snug and protected. You parted your lips in slight shock at his intensity, at his warm presence.
"Wait," you gasped, tightening your grip around his arms as if to lock him in place. "Don't go."
"No?" Eren spoke, but it wasn't his voice.
You blinked. The man holding you was not Eren, but Colt.
"You don't want me to go?" Colt repeated, confused.
You had to blink a few times to settle back in reality. Once you did, you awkwardly shuffled out of his embrace, clearing your throat and looking down at your feet in embarrassment. Colt was perplexed, but he respected your sudden distance nevertheless.
"No—I mean, yes," you answered, rushing through your words. "I mean, no! No, I want you to go. I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. I have—I have so much work to do."
"Aw, but Miss Y/N!" Gabi pouted. You had forgotten that the Warrior cadets were still there.
"No, I have to leave," you said, clearing your throat. "I have a shift at the hospital next hour. Lots of sick patients that need attending to—" you motioned to the line of the injured that was still standing a few feets away from you, "—and they need more hands. So I'm going to go."
"I see," said Colt. He smiled at you. "Well, it was wonderful to see you again, Y/N. I hope we can catch up some other time."
"You too, Colt," you said. Guilt and revulsion for yourself surged through you.
What was wrong with you? Flirting with a boy you had essentially taken advantage of, playing friendship with a bunch of children, working in a hospital when you were going to injure a lot of people anyway—no wonder they called you a devil. What would Eren think if he saw you like this?
Then you remembered: Eren had no right to think of you in a degrading manner when he was no better himself. Still, the fact that you were doing this with Colt filled you with guilt, though you were trying your best not to feel anything at all.
"See you soon," you said, waving the Warrior cadets off while they headed back to their families. "It won't be too long."
As you walked away to get to the Jaegers, dread surged through you. Just what have you done? You felt disgusted with yourself. Like you were nothing but scum, maybe even lower than that. While you made your way to Zeke, you felt shivers arise on your arms, and you had to pause.
You stopped in your tracks and looked back. There was nothing behind you except the few soldiers who were still lingering around the square and the line of injured men who were now being led towards the hospital. Unease settled in the pits of your stomach.
Somehow, it felt like you were being watched.
When the feeling faded away, your head was pounding. You closed your eyes and pushed your knuckles in to stop them from hurting, if only for a moment, and when you finally released the pressure, and opened them again, you saw that the line of soldiers was gone. You would have to return to the hospital to help them soon.
Eren isn't here, you reminded yourself. Eren cannot haunt you here.
You shook off the remnants of the foreboding and continued on your step, searching for Zeke. It was going to be a long few weeks.