Content Warnings:
•Season 2/3/4 Spoilers
•Mentions of Death
•Narcissism
•Ghosts
•Guns
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"Y/n?" An unfamiliar voice suddenly woke you from your deep slumber. When your eyelids fluttered open and met the wall, the voice chimed in again. "Y/n?" You hesitated before even moving an inch of your little body, trying to register whose voice was calling out to you in the middle of the night. Your father was asleep in his room at the end of the hall and there was no way either of your older brothers would prank you at that time of night. They would have a death wish if they even tried doing that, already knowing how skittish you were in the dark.
Eventually, the voice had stopped calling your name and you drifted back to sleep in your single bed. You pulled your knees to your chest, peacefully curled under a (color) quilt that once belonged to your grandmother. Crickets chirped outside and stray cats meowed or got into little fights, all of it a white noise. After an hour of silence, the voice had returned. "Y/n?" It called out yet again. This time, you sat up, fists clenched onto the quilt as you scanned across the dark bedroom for the source. No one was in there.
As your (color) eyes rolled across your closet, they flickered back, and spotted a light fog that morphed into a full grown man as he stepped out and into the middle of your bedroom. The man was transparent, you could see straight through him but still capture all the details. His face was old and he had a bald head with a beard. He was certainly unfamiliar to you. Before he could even speak another word, you already let out a loud scream, and dashed towards the door, out into the hall. Your father had jumped out of bed and raced towards you, then crouched down. "What the hell was that?!" He asked as he held your shoulders. "There's an old man in my room!" You explained to your father, fear striking your innocent face. Your father escorted you away from your bedroom and grabbed one of his shotguns before entering your room to investigate.
After ten long minutes, he came back out and sighed. "There's no one in there, (nickname). How about you sleep in your brothers' room tonight?" Your father offered. Glancing towards your door, you could still see the figure in there, staring back at you with dark eyes. With a raised arm, you pointed at the old man but your father never saw him. It was that exact moment when you realized there were things others could not see.
Inside of your brothers' bedroom, you tapped on the eldest's shoulder, to which he rolled over. "What?" The ten-year-old mumbled then rubbed his eyes. "Can I sleep in here?" You asked as you gripped the material of your sleeping gown. "...I guess so." Tristan mumbled and rolled back over to go back to sleep. You glanced up at the top bunk where your other brother, Quincy, slept. You two got along most of the time but he was always the one who ended up making you cry for whatever reason. Tristan was the protector between the two of them, always sticking up for you. You could always trust him. As you climbed onto Tristan's bunk, you eventually fell asleep on the edge of the firm bed, mind still wondering who that old man was.
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The old man did not bother you again after that day, his appearance had completely vanished and you never brought it up again. Your father had been extra cautious on door locking and checking the home's perimeter each night since the "old man sighting," afraid someone might have been after you. As the final product of his wife's flesh and blood, he didn't dare to lose you to the hands of someone with evil intentions.
After only a year of meeting the mysterious old man, he returned one night in the same manner. This time, when you woke up, he sat down, holding his hands out with his palms visible. He showed that he was unarmed and meant no harm. Something felt different. You didn't feel as scared as the first time. He was just as cautious as you. You stared into his dull eyes, there was no life behind them at all. In fact, he was lifeless. Crawling out of bed, you approached him slowly to sit on your knees in front of him, still keeping a slight distance. You mirrored his actions, holding your hands out and showing him your palms. You too, were unarmed and harmless. The room felt calm, all nerves washed away. You somehow felt... comfort from this old man. He suddenly felt familiar. A different type of familiar.
"Y/n, I'm so glad I got to meet 'ya." The old man's long, grey mustache moved as he softly spoke. What did he mean? Did he know you? How did he know you or your name? You pursed your lips momentarily, trying to connect the dots. Nothing rang a bell. You stayed quiet and blinked periodically as you continued to stare at him. Then it came to you. Your cozy little bedroom faded as it was replaced by a new scene. You were inside of a church, viewing a casket with the same old man inside of it. The vision was gone as fast as it came. Trailing your eyes around the old man and the same clothes he wore in your vision, your lips finally parted as you spoke. "Grandpa?"
The morning after, you immediately told your father, excited when you finally realized who the old man was. He was never a stranger or had bad intentions. He was simply visiting so he could finally meet you. It all came crashing back down on you after you finished your spiel about your grandfather. Your father hardly paid attention and his first response was "it was just a dream." After every new encounter with your grandfather, your father shot the conversation down before you got the chance to even finish. You never understood why. It almost seemed like you weren't allowed to talk about it.
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Another year had gone by and your father took you to a new place one day. He barely informed you of what was going on, keeping the details mostly to himself. As soon as you got up to the front door of the building, he pulled you aside and crouched down to your level. "Y/n, do you know what this place is?" He asked you, his (opposite eye color) irises switching between both of your own eyes. You simply shook your head "no," unaware of the situation. It wasn't like him to surprise you with an outing. The man cleared his throat in an excuse to think over his explanation one last time before finally telling you what was happening. "This is a place where you will learn all kinds of things." He said with a slight bit of enthusiasm to ease your hesitancy. "So... its a school?" You mumbled, arms hanging parallel to your body. You already went to school, why would he take you to a new one?
"Not exactly..." He shook his head. "This place is going to teach you... more womanly things. Like... how to sew, cook, do laundry... all of that stuff." He smiled a bit, hoping it would get you excited. However, he got the opposite reaction out of you. Growing up in a male dominated household did not make this place sound a bit interesting. You hung around your brothers every day, only knowing how men acted. How in the world would you learn how women acted when you were missing that influence in your life? "So... its a school." Was all you had to say, waiting for something else to happen. Your father sighed, giving up on trying to hype you up. Certainly, he thought you would thrive and want to learn how to be a housewife and future mother but he should have known, raising a daughter with two older sons would influence your childhood more. "Sure, you can call it whatever 'ya want." He nodded, standing back up straight to take you inside.
Inside the two-story brick building, the entrance was accompanied by a wooden desk with a woman sitting behind it. When she noticed you and your father's presence, she rose from the chair and walked around in order to properly greet you two. "Hello, you must be Mr. (Last name)?" The pale, slender woman smiled at you both. "Yes, ma'am. This is my daughter, Y/n." He glanced down towards you, holding your hand. You eventually turned your chin up towards the woman who had striking, natural beauty. Her noire hair was pulled back into a tight bun above the nape of her neck, allowing for her heart-shaped face to be shown off. Her cinnamon-brown eyes were warm and inviting, hiding behind her monolids each time she blinked. "It is lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Mrs. Akimoto." Her pearly white smile was friendly and safe, relaxing you a bit. At least this place wasn't run by scary people. You nodded your head at Mrs. Akimoto, a bit on the shy side. Granted, this was a new and unfamiliar place.
As your father spoke with the woman, a little girl came out of the hallway to the right. When her eyes locked with yours, a large smile spread across her round, chubby face. "Hi!!!" She ran over to you and waved in your face. "Hi." You replied, your energy not matching her enthusiasm. Mrs. Akimoto looked down and chuckled, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Calm down, Katsumi. Don't scare our new guest." The girl, Katsumi, nodded, facing you again with a much calmer demeanor. "Sorry." She still smiled, holding out her right hand. "I'm Katsumi." She continued to hold her hand out until you finally took it. "Y/n." You said quietly which made Katsumi giggle. "You're quiet." Mrs. Akimoto shared a light laugh, turning back to face your father. "Don't worry, Mr. (Last name), I think my daughter will break your daughter out of her shell here."
You came to learn that the place was targeted towards young girls who did not have mother's or any female influence to help guide them through life and responsibilities. Mrs. Akimoto was the founder of the project, hiring volunteers who would come in and participate with the other girls there to learn "womanly things." After a few weeks, a woman was then assigned to a particular girl in order to form a bond like they were a real mother and daughter. A short, strawberry-blonde woman named Tamara was assigned to you. At first, she was very nice but you still had your reservations. You were never open to meeting new people because you already had all the people you needed in your life; your father and brothers. You never liked the idea of being associated with the place because it felt like your father was trying to alter your personality or call any woman your new mother. You never wanted a replacement.
In about two months, Tamara had won you over enough to have a comfortable conversation with her while she taught you how to sew a skirt. She was still nice and patient with you, teaching you the ropes every week. Eventually, her façade cracked after meeting your father. In front of him, she acted the same way as when you had first met her but behind the scenes, she tried to tear you down. Anything from belittling to harassing, she wanted you to feel ashamed of yourself. One day was so bad you sat with teary eyes as she quietly reprimanded you. Your hands shook as you only attempted to stitch two pieces of cloth together to make an infant gown, trying your hardest not to cry because of her harsh words. Anytime you expressed your distress to your father about Tamara, he never believed you, telling you that it wasn't very nice or ladylike to talk poorly about someone older than you. Tamara thrived as she cried wolf each time.
When you thought you had already come face-to-face with the worst, it hit a second layer of rock bottom. Your father and Tamara had gotten closer. Sometimes, he would invite her over for dinner and she would always be nice to him. The only good thing that came out of her, was that sometimes she would bring her daughter who was similar in age to you. It was much harder for you to deal with Tamara since Tristan had left after signing up for Cadet Corps earlier that year. You no longer had your big brother to protect you or be your outlet for advice. Quincy was all right but he would still push your buttons. He wasn't Tristan. He wouldn't listen to you like Tristan.
Then, the day your father had a sit-down with you and Quincy to announce his new relationship with Tamara was gut-wrenching. After the words came out of his mouth, the world around you began to spin. All of your worst nightmares came true. This woman was going to spend a lot more time with you. There was no way to avoid her anymore and no one ever believed your claims about her. That night, you had cried in your room, afraid of the woman who made you feel bad about yourself, and tried to turn the world against you, and for what reason? What could you have possibly done to make her act so vile towards you overnight? You had never asked for this or her. You were perfectly fine growing up without your mother and you certainly didn't need anyone to pretend to be her. No one could take your mother's place.
Of course, your father had found you crying alone the night he told you. Through tears, you were angry and yelled that you didn't want anyone to replace your mother. At first, he seemed sincere and apologetic. He never intended to hurt you or make you cry over the situation but as soon as you opened your mouth in one last attempt to convince him of Tamara's actions against you, his mindset changed. He still wouldn't believe you or let you continue to talk. He immediately got up and left after telling you not to speak in such a way. Yet again, he silenced you.
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The thing about never being taken seriously or silenced affected you deeply. Ever since your late grandfather appeared before you in your bedroom, your father still had no reason to believe your stories when you brought them up again. All he did was scoff and told you he had passed away long before you were born. It hurt your feelings that the most important person in your life found your pleas silly because you were a child. His excuse to never believe you was simply that. You were just a child with a wild imagination. Every day, you strived to make him believe you for once. No matter the lengths you went. It went as far as him finally taking you to consult a doctor in Shiganshina, a district in Wall Maria, about a whole day's journey away. For the past two years, your father never reacted to your stories about talking to your grandfather or even how Tamara was a mean person. She was never mean to him or Quincy. How could she be mean spirited if he never saw it firsthand? More excuses. No proof. No belief. The fact that he always took her side hurt you even more.
Then, his life changed after that one appointment with Dr. Yeager. The man had never seen anything like it. He had taken you to a separate room to speak with him alone about what had been going on at home. Having a young child himself, he made an effort to hear your side. Your father had expressed concern over you making up stories and telling blatant lies, wondering if it was some kind of childish phase you were going through. However, it was nothing like that at all. Dr. Yeager may had only just met you but he could sense the whole truth from you and your innocence. You were practically begging for someone to hear you and finally, someone did.
"Tell me what's going on?" The doctor had asked you as he sat across from you with a notebook in his lap, pencil in hand. "My daddy never believes me. I try to tell him I see my grandpa and talk to him all the time but he laughs and says he died a long time ago." You fidgeted in your seat, trying to become comfortable but it was hard to. "When you say that you see him, do you mean you can see him as a normal person like me right now?" Dr. Yeager scribbled in his notebook, eyes on the paper. You gently nodded, following up. "I can see through his body like a thin curtain but I can see him. He's a person. I can feel him too. Its softer than real people." You explained in more detail, swinging your legs from the cushioned seat. Dr. Yeager wrote some more things down, brows slightly creased in the middle. "Do you see anyone else?" Dr. Yeager paused to sit up straight and face you. You stopped swinging your legs to think about it for a moment. Your grandfather had been the only transparent figure you had seen before. Until, you focused a bit more.
"Who's that little girl?" Your arm slowly rose from your side and pointed next to Dr. Yeager's chair. The man in front of you gripped the armrests of his chair, shifting to the side in order to check where your finger was pointing. There was nothing to be seen there. To him, there was no little girl. When his head turned back to face you, he asked more questions. "What does she look like?" He had his pencil ready to note anything you would say. "She has short brown hair and blue eyes." You described the little girl beside the doctor. After your description, Dr. Yeager dropped his pencil in the middle of writing. Realization had struck him hard. You gently grinned at the girl before shifting your gaze to the shocked doctor where your smile faded at his expression.
Dr. Yeager had released you, pulling your father aside to quietly talk about your meeting with him. He was beyond astonished by the new research he had gotten from you. "Mr. (Last name), this is no phase. Your daughter can see ghosts... these are no lies or stories... she's communicating with the dead." He had exclaimed. "However, you will need to keep this a deep secret..."
The long ride home was silent half the time. It wasn't until you got back to Wall Rose when your father decided to pipe up and start a small conversation. "Does Katsumi or anyone else know about this?" He asked all of a sudden. You looked up from the moving dirt beneath the wagon, processing his question. "No. No one believes me anyway." You commented, going back to stare at the dirt. "Dr. Yeager believed you. Don't um... tell anyone else, though, okay?" He glanced towards you. "How come?" You asked, confused as to why. "Well, like you said, no one would believe you." Was his reasoning. In actuality, it was quite the opposite. He feared the wrong person would find out and you would be captured, called a witch, and burned at the stake. He never wanted to see such a gruesome act happen to his daughter. He only did it to protect you.
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Living with the biggest secret of all was not the easiest task in the world. As you grew older and met more and more people, the more you wanted to connect with others and tell them about the deceased relatives you saw surrounding them. You always imagined the way you could help and comfort those who were missing family and friends by letting them know that that person was okay. Just the idea of getting all of it off your chest sounded glorious. Your gift was something you did not want to waste by hiding it.
The day your father had told Quincy, he was in denial for the longest time, partially because he did not understand nor care. His mind flipped the second you saw something happen in the past before you came into the picture. You described the funeral for your grandfather to Quincy, telling him every detail you remembered. Quincy knew your father wouldn't have told you about it. He never liked to reminisce the past. Especially, sad memories. When you told him that you saw Quincy in the vision, standing next to Tristan as they said their last goodbyes to your grandfather, the boy teared up a bit. It was the first memory he had as a young child. He was only two when your grandfather passed away so he did not have a lot of memories of him being alive. After your explanation, he believed every ounce you had to say from then on.
Once Quincy believed you, he wanted to test just how well your abilities were. You had told him as much as you could, considering you came to realization of the power not that long ago. The most you could do was see snippets of flashbacks so you always had to give them your full attention so you wouldn't miss a thing. Then, if you concentrated enough, you could see deceased individuals around people who lost someone, like the little girl who stood next to Dr. Yeager. You had no power to see the future just yet, everything was from the past.
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Growing up around strictly males had it's pros, it was all you ever knew. You never fancied a feminine lifestyle and there was no point in delving into it after growing up differently. Your father owned a workshop, inherited by his father after he passed. Fortunately, the shop was just below your home. The workshop was responsible for crafting the special gear the Military used; Omni-Directional Mobility Gear, or, ODM Gear for short. Tristan had briefly learned how to make the devices before going off to Cadet Corps but now it was just you and Quincy. You loved learning mechanics alongside your father and brother, earning your own job at the business too. Since you were the more responsible kid, your father strictly left you in charge of transactions and crafting. Quincy took in supply orders then delivered the finished products to all three Military branches, all while helping you assemble the ODM Gear as well. You loved the job more than anything but you had something else on your mind. The Scout Regiment.
Upon working with your father, you also learned all about the Military, becoming fascinated by it. Since you knew all about the gear they used, it would only be an advantage if you got to serve alongside them. Hell, maybe you could search for your mother being in the Military? It was still just a foolish dream of yours, you knew you would never actually get there because you had other duties, like working for your father and taking care of your dog, (dog's name). He was already a cheap guy and did not want to hire some stranger when he already had his children he could trust with the job. He was afraid someone who despised the Military would want the job and tamper with their gear before deliveries which would all fall back on him. He'd rather not risk it.
The perks of the job included being able to use the gear itself. Actually, you weren't allowed to use them but Quincy was the one who convinced you otherwise. He wasn't always the greatest influence. At night, after closing-up shop, the two of you would sneak out with your own gear and practice in the city. The thrill of it all felt like a medication. You could be free and not have to worry about a single thing going on in your life. The escape and adrenaline was all you ever craved after your first flight with ODM Gear. The two of you actually bonded over swinging through Krolva District, playing all sorts of games as well. The both of you favored free-falling which included halting your gear and falling back to the surface. The first one to deploy their anchors lost and the one who got closest to the ground before deploying won. Quincy was more of the daredevil and usually won those competitions.
The two of you never got caught using the ODM Gear. You did go late at night but you at least expected to encounter some sort of Military branch during the escapades. The two of you stayed clean until one day, a Commander visited your shop. You were taking notes on stock in the back room when you heard the jingle of the bell over the store entrance. You set aside your list and went back out to the shop to greet the visitor. "Hello, sir. How can I help you today?" You smiled up/down/straight at the blonde, blue-eyed man. The broad man cleared his throat, glazing his eyes across the shop before he finally met your own eyes and spoke. "I am Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps. I'm here to offer you a job." His words all sounded like a joke. Why would the Scout's Commander offer you a job? "Sir... is this a joke?" You asked, wanting to laugh. It couldn't be real. "I do not joke around. I came to ask you to join the Survey Corps. I've seen your skills on the ODM Gear so I know you're talented and trained." How did he know this? Did he see you illegally using ODM Gear and wasn't mad?
"Sir, I," You began to stutter over your words, utterly shocked by the proposal. You already convinced yourself you wouldn't ever make it to the Military. You had to help your father and the business. "I don't know if I can." You finally managed to get out as you scratched your neck. The man took a breath, thinking over something. "How about this, I'll give you a few weeks to decide and if you take my offer, I'll send a carriage for you." The offer still sounded tempting. You always wanted to join but how would you tell your father? He wouldn't take it so easily. "Thank you, sir. I'll definitely think about it." You nodded gratefully. "Is that all you came in for?" You then asked, feeling bad he traveled all the way from Trost just to try and recruit you. "No, no, I have an order. The 104th recruits will be deciding which regiment they want to join in a few weeks and we need to be prepared for stock." He explained as he looked around the quaint shop. "Oh! Okay, I'll go get my brother then." You smiled and excused yourself to the back room.
Later that night, you had to break the news to your father and brother about the conversation with Commander Erwin Smith. It wouldn't be easy but you had to do it anyway. "Whatd'ya wanna talk about, (nickname)?" Your father had asked once the three of you sat down at the table. Your dog, (dog's name), sat next to your chair and smelled the food, begging for a piece so you quietly dropped a bite for her/him before answering. "Well... the Commander of the Survey Corps stopped by the shop today. He had an order but actually, he asked me something when he got here." You started and already felt pressured. "He didn't ask you anything-" Your father had butted in with a single eyebrow raised. "Dad?!" You gasped, disgust on your face. "What? I was just making sure he wasn't a pervert!" Your father grumbled the end as he cut his fish. "I can't with you..." You muttered with a roll of your eyes. "Anyway," You sighed, glancing at Quincy. "He asked if I was interested in joining the Military." Your words caused your father to choke on his food. "W-What?" He slapped his chest until his throat was clear. "Specifically, the Survey Corps." You pursed your lips. "Wow." Was all Quincy said.
The room fell silent as the two men pondered on the statement. You sat nervously, unable to eat because of the intensity of their demeanors. "I know, its a lot but you both know how much I want to join the Scouts. I really want to do this, but not if Quincy isn't okay with it." You spoke again, hoping it would lighten the situation. "What about me?! You should care about what I think, too!" Your father argued before Quincy could respond. "I know... and I do but Quince wants to train for the Garrison, so we both can't leave you to run the shop alone." You realized what you had said a second too late. Your father didn't know Quincy had wanted to join the Garrison.Your father sighed deeply for he had to worry about not one but three kids wanting to pursue the Military.
"Y/n should go." Quincy finally spoke. "Wha-?" You were taken aback by the response from him. "She should go. I can stay and help out. Its not like the Garrison is going anywhere, I can join in a few more years." Your brother looked at your father, his face relaxed. "Quincy, no, I don't want to stop-" You tried to intervene, feeling guilty about all of it. "Y/n, it's fine. Go make us proud." He gave you a small smile. After a few more silent moments, you obliged. "All right, I'll go."
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The night before you left for the Scouts, you were packing your final belongings to take. (Dog's name) sat next to you, head on your lap as you placed one final shirt into your small suitcase. After latching it shut, you heard a knock on the front door downstairs. "Y/n! Can you get that?" You heard your father shout from the kitchen down the hallway. You rose from the floor, your small/large dog following as you went down to the door to answer it. When the door opened, you were surprised to see an upset Tamara on the other side. She looked awful. Her sage-green eyes and face were red, stained with tears. What had happened? Before you were able to get out a "hello," the woman spoke up. "Where's your father?" Her voice was hoarse and in a whisper. You slowly pointed up towards the stairs, still distraught. "He's in the kitchen." You mumbled as she brushed past you without another word.
Once she was in there, you went back up there as well, quietly heading to Quincy's room. "Hey, something's up with Tam." You muttered in his doorway and nodded your head towards the kitchen. "Really? What the hell happened to her?" Quincy looked over at you with confusion. "Not sure. She was definitely crying a minute ago." You came into the room and shut the door behind you. "Wait, do you think you can use your powers to find out?" Quincy asked with a bit of excitement in his voice. "Maybe but I thought we could just eavesdrop." You shrugged, leaning your ear against the closed door. "Whichever is easiest for you, I guess." Quincy suggested, joining you at the door.
As you quietly listened to the conversation, your eyes fell shut and a vision appeared. Tamara had answered her front door, surprised to see who was there. When realization clicked, her face fell, waiting for the words of confirmation. Your mind was silent, only narrated by Tamara's distressed voice from your kitchen. In your vision, you saw her face go pale, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. It was weird to see such an emotion on her face from the way she treated you. You almost wanted to feel bad for her. The vision had blurred out after a second, your mind blank once again. "It happened today..." You heard Tamara say before she let out a small sob. Quincy had made eye contact with you, his mouth agape by what you two had just heard. "She's dead." You mouthed with a heavy chest.
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Words: 5,456
08/30/21
Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed the prologue to my book, "Walking Among Spirits." I'm very excited to revamp this book and give it the life it deserves now that more seasons are out and my writing has improved a lot over the years since I first started writing it.
More chapters will be coming in the future! I hope you all look forward to them and stick around 'til the end! See you in the next chapter!
~AlpineBreadStick