author's note:
i am so sorry for the length of this one but i did not wanna split it up. sorry if it takes you a long time to read :' ) there's soooo much in this chapter holy shit
content warnings:
some blood, that's all i think
—-
With an echoing creak, I carefully close the classroom door behind me, parting ways with Zoe between a comforting expression we share together. Once shut, I come face-to-face with Jean leaning his side on a set of scratched lockers, phone in hand and striking a chord of deja vu within my system.
However, in opposition to the flirting which propelled our past conversation forward, I'm more in shock that his compassionate habits remain despite the thrill of the first day. "You waited for me?" I ask in a much quieter voice than I expected to come out.
He spins his phone on his finger and effortlessly glides it back into his pocket as if performing a trivial skit. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" He asks as if I had just posed the most unruly question he had heard in a year's time.
A bit taken aback, I reply, "It's just new for me, that's all."
"Wow. You must've had pretty shit friends back in Marley," he remarks as we stride our way forward to the boisterous cafeteria.
"You might say so," I offer an off-ward look, "Connie was right about them being attractive, but they were little demons scurrying the halls sometimes. Only friend I really trust and appreciate that came from Marley is my coworker."
"The hickey friend?"
"Yes, Jean, the thing that you can't seem to keep your eyes off all day."
"What's her name?" he asks as he holds open the door for me, a pandemonium of clashes and clatters filling the empty space of the hallways for just a moment.
"I don't think you need to know yet," I tap his nose, causing the top of his cheeks to flush peach.
"At least there's a yet," he chuckles before going on, taking the rambunctious hall into view and glaring back to me. "It's really hard not to want to walk in here with my arm around you. You just seem like the type of person I'd always want to be around, to show off."
As much as the sweet comment would send any girl head over heels, I've done away with that and programmed myself to not take these affirmations too deeply. After one horrific relationship back in Marley and the loss of my family, deep connection with people beyond just the physical was nothing I desired for my life. People didn't always see it or understand it at first–they gave me too much credit–which often made the realization hurt them all the more once I'd state my apathy. But caring about their feelings only proved to send me down a path of despair. I wasn't going to do that again.
"I wouldn't make that decision for yourself quite yet," I say as we take our seats alongside Connie, Sasha and Marco, "You've only known me for one day."
"Jesus, is Jean already tryna hit it?" Connie blabs out as he shuffles to scooch one seat closer to me.
"Yes and no," I giggle at the response and the way it causes Jean's expression to turn a tad bit red with anger.
"Not like you weren't trying to do the same thing, short stack," Jean motions with a fork in hand after stealing Marco's plate of food.
Marco stares down at the plate in a defeated expression, though I seem to be the only one who notices. Out of his jacket pocket he pries out another plastic fork as if fully prepared for this situation and begins to share the plate with Jean like nothing happened.
Keeping to myself, I notice I have Connie on my right and Sasha to my left. I'm fully squished between the two people most likely to begin some sort of heated and physical argument over food, and by the looks of it, it should be incoming soon.
Using me as a sort of human shield or blindspot, Connie snakes his arm behind my back and carefully snatches a few fries away from Sasha's plate. He repeats the action a few times, getting away with it until his dumbass gets greedy and decides to go for more.
In order to steal one of Sasha's chicken nuggets, Connie now has to reach his arm over my own lunch. I don't understand what honestly goes through his mind and makes him think he can't be seen, but it's quite obvious that he's just reaching over me now and not being sneaky whatsoever.
This time, when he reaches the plate, Sasha immediately catches on to his techniques and violently pulls him by his wrist. The motion shoots Connie's head straight down into the table.
Well, it would have been the table if Connie hadn't forgotten his own left over slice of cake wasn't sitting right in front of him.
With a loud gushing sound, the smoky silver head collides destructively into the blue-iced chocolate cake.
The whole table erupts in laughter, gathering smirks and stealing chuckles from nearby students who watch as Connie rises from the ashes, face painted in sugar and humiliation.
"Yep, this one's for yearbook," Marco shouts out between coughs, capturing Connie's unamused appearance on one of the school's cameras labelled: Student Council ONLY.
"I'm fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten," I add in as Connie lets out a sigh. He honestly looks quite upset as he stares down, which causes the rest of us to pass worried glares, thinking we pushed it too far.
But then, in all his glory, Connie snaps his face up again and goes into full on fuckboy mode; arrogantly swiping down his chin, narrowing his eyes and laying a finger across his arm. It causes an even greater outburst from our group and those who had been watching the show.
Connie finishes off his stunt with little finger guns before stealing all our napkins to wipe down his mess.
Wiping tears from our eyes, Sasha is the first one to break the chain of belly-aching laughter.
"Marco! What you said reminded me of something." Sasha turns to me with a gleeful smile, "I have something I want to show you! Just us girls."
I feel an incoming, subtle reverberation on my right side as I notice Connie coming to use my side as a back rest. Willingly, I let him take his desired place and watch as he practically snuggles into my side while he rests his phone between his hands.
"Yeah of course," I reply, "When?"
Everyone seems to look at me in awe. That is, everyone except Connie who seems to be stuck in his own sweet little world against my side.
"You know, you're pretty comfy," he lets out with a hum.
They're surprised, undoubtedly so. I rarely ever show this kind of sensitivity, let alone to people who I don't really connect with. I could continue being empathetic, though it starts to invite a sick feeling into my stomach. My ego is a little bit bigger than it should be, but at least I can admit that.
Not wanting anyone to paint a picture of a loving Ara in their minds for too long, I lean down to Connie and let the internal disgust at my own actions crowd my demeanour.
"Ugh you're sweaty, get off," I nudge him with my elbow.
Connie slumps back in his own seat, allowing me to take my attention back to Sasha's initial inquiry. "When did you want to show me something?"
Jean and Marco slowly return to their normal mannerisms after looking almost traumatized at my own actions. Sasha, on the other hand, has just stuffed seven more chicken nuggets down her throat before she goes on saying, "Uphm yhms! Cm ousch tien thm-"
I chuckle. "Sasha, my love, I cannot understand a word you're saying."
In one go, she gulps down the entire mound of food in her mouth and we can all practically watch the clump move down her throat, wincing at the amount of scratching pain it would've caused any one of us. Reminds me exactly of the time she took half a burrito in one go, right before I left.
"No way that wasn't painful, Sash," Connie grimaces.
"Nu-uh!" She smiles wide, "I've got tons of practice."
"So what you're saying is," Jean gives a sultry nod, "You've got the best throat game of us all."
"HEY!" Connie spins around to him. "That is NOT how we talk about our honorary sister."
Sasha gives a what the hell glare to Jean and rolls her eyes, allowing me to jump in. "And what's the rules for your honorary sisters?"
"Well, first, they're untouchable," Connie begins, "Take Sash here. Yeah she's hot and we all know that, but doing anything could fuck up the entire family we've created for ourselves. Plus I feel like we know too much about each other to be that attracted to one another."
"Hmm," I pat my thumb on my chin, "And what does it take to be an honorary sister. I mean, I spent almost half my life with you and Sash," I motion to the both.
"You're not allowed to be one," Connie grumbles, Jean and Marco nod.
I laugh at their immediate response knowing it's purely because they don't want me to be physically untouchable to them. But, I feel like making them speak their minds instead of having them trust that I understand the underlying message. It's more fun to watch people squirm, especially when they're this trio of men.
"Why not?" I pout with doe eyes.
Connie shifts uncomfortably in his seat before gesturing to Jean and Marco.
"You're on your own with this one, bud," Marco chimes in, well amused at Connie's inability to articulate this kind off stuff in front of his close friends.
Obviously also taken by the uncomfortable conversation, Sasha jumps up sporadically in her seat to look at me and say, "Meet me outside! I want to show you right now!"
Instantly, Sasha scurries out the cafeteria doors with her plate in hand. I'm not quite sure if she wanted to get out of the conversation that badly, or if she just wanted to stop Connie from picking off her plate.
"Don't do it!" Connie yells out as I arise from my seat.
I turn to him, "Not to offend you, but out of everyone sitting here right now, I think I trust you the least. From what I remember in middle school, it was you that sent me off the edge of that mountain when you told me to 'close my eyes and trust you' last time we all went camping."
"I-Uh."
For once in his life, Connie is at a loss for words as Jean and Marco hide smiles beneath their hands.
"We'll see you in Phys. Ed, Ara," Jean waves off while Connie buries his head in his hands dramatically.
I take my own pita wrap in hand and start following Sasha's path, meeting her directly outside the cafeteria doors.
"Everyone is literally in love with you," is the first thing she says to me in the hallway no louder than the school library. I begin travelling beside Sasha as she drags her feet across the cold tile flooring.
"Oh please, it's just rose coloured glasses for the new girl."
"No, new girl theory doesn't apply here. New girl theory applies to a 5'2 ray of sunshine who dresses like every other bitch and every one is amazed with her for the first two months. New girl theory does not apply to a girl who almost kills herself in a race before school on her MOTORCYCLE, punches the shit out of one of the schools biggest jocks, and shows up with a JLo body all on day one."
"Is this what you came here to say Sash?" I ask, wanting to avoid more of this tangent.
"No," she stops in her path as a wide grin takes up practically half her face. "I wanted you to join student council with me!" She clasps her hands together and jump just in the slightest.
"Sash, that's really not my thi-"
"Historia is our president this year and Ymir is her vice. They are SUCH a good duo together. C'mon!! It'll be so much fun for us to spend time together organizing things for the school!"
I let out a soft huff and try to proceed as cautiously as I can. "Sasha, from the last 24 hours of seeing me again, why in the world do you think that type of environment would suit me?"
Her face drops a bit, but she still tries to remain hopeful. "I know it doesn't seem like your thing, but I thought it would be a great way for us to spend time together and–"
"And why can't we just do that regularly?"
"Well-well," she stutters, "Just because I know you'd have so much fun!"
I give a saddened smile. "I'll have to politely decline, but thanks Sasha."
I can tell from her actions that she'd probably be physically dragging me along by my wrist to the student council room, thought it seems that she's already learned better than to give me an unsolicited touch. Instead, she awkwardly moves in small circles as she continually begs me to come, repeating, "Please, please, please," over and over again.
Having had enough, I roughly grab her by the shoulders and move her to the side so that she's not taking up the entire hallway and preventing people from passing through.
"Sasha."
She averts my gaze.
"Sasha, look me in the eyes."
Slowly, she brings her puppy-dog eyes up to meet my own.
"Though I may have been gone for awhile, I still know you. Why do you want me to join so badly? This is more than student council, isn't it?" I ask.
"Well," she stiffens, "I was thinking that you could join because Mikasa sometimes handles design for their yearbook and it would give us the chance to all be together and–"
"And why is that so important?"
"Because I don't want you to think I'm stealing you away from her and maybe we can all talk about what happened before you left." Her voice breaks a few times throughout her sentence.
"Now why would I think you're stealing her away from me?" I urge her on.
"B-Because...because..." Sasha quivers.
"What is it?" I try my best to graciously coax her through her uncomfortable experience with confrontation.
"Because Eren told me that the real reason you left was because I made you feel like you could only have me as a friend and you said you felt like you had to choose and finally just got fed up with me." Tears well her eyes, but she continues on.
"An-And since you got back I just don't want to mess up the same way and I notice Mikasa not really around you and I can't help but think it's all my fault," her tears begin to stream down her face accompanied with small hiccups.
"Oh Sasha," I wipe a sticky hair away from her forehead, "Me leaving had absolutely nothing to do with you."
"Then why did you never reach out to me? I must've messaged you a million times, but Eren just kept saying you were done with me. I didn't want to believe it, but months went by and I never heard from you. After that, I couldn't bear to be around Eren or Mikasa and she seemed to hate me. I felt so empty without you here."
"I'm so sorry, Sasha. It was completely unfair of me to put you through this pain." Now more than ever I'm cursing at my younger self for not thinking twice about neglecting all my friends and blindly following my teenage love's threats.
She begins to catch her breath a bit more asking between sniffles, "Then what did happen?"
"Uhm, how do I put this lightly?" I stammer, watching her expression falter. "Y'know what, fuck it, there is no light version. Can you keep a secret?"
She nods rapidly. "Til the day I die."
"Me leaving had absolutely nothing to do with you. Eren blames me for his parents death. He wanted me out of the picture so I didn't hurt any of you and that I'd stop being a constant reminder of what he lost."
Her mouth falls open. "I-I what? But you didn't..?"
"It's not my responsibility for how he perceives the world around him, I've come to learn. But I didn't know it at the time. I left because of that and the fact that he threatened to ruin all our friendships. Seems he kinda already did that anyway," I shrug.
Flames seem to ignite behind the irises of her cedar eyes, her face drops to a cold stare that seems completely out of place on the face of a girl motivated by joy.
"I have to tell Jean and Connie," she unsuccessfully attempts to break free from my grasp, driven purely by hate.
"Hey now," I latch onto her arms, "You promised. And I didn't come here to divide everyone anyways."
She sulks in my grasp. "Yeah, but Eren pretty much did that anyway."
Now that she's calmed down a little, I loosen my hold. "How so?"
"Exactly like he did with Armin," she goes on, "He just kinda started stealing both him and Mikasa off from us. And of course, Mika was happy that he was finally taking to someone other than Armin. I guess it just left the rest of us all...alone."
"I'm shit with this comforting stuff now, but I'm just really sorry to hear that. It shouldn't have happened to you."
"Yeah, yeah," she waves off, using her finger to swipe away the smudged mascara and adjusting her white collar the peeks out from her sunflower-stitched sweater.
"Wanna head over to the gym while we're at it?" I offer, attempting to shift the subject, "Mr. Ackerman's email said we'd be in there today."
"Sure," she sniffles out and I finally let go. Together, we make our way to the other side of the school with Sasha walking just a few paces behind me.
Just as we're about to reach the locker room doors, I sense her presence coming closer and let her do whatever she needs to do.
As quickly as she can, she runs up behind me and wraps her arm around my waist, face buried in between my shoulder blades.
"I'm so happy you're back," she murmurs, "Having you in my life is like having the sister I always wanted."
Though her words are entrenched in wholesome love and care, they cause an off-putting sensation inside of me. That feeling that I need to run, to get away from this type of attachment as fast as I can.
She breaks the hug and meets my face, "Even though you kinda scare me sometimes now, you're still my favourite person in the world."
I try to maintain an authentic smile, but I know its fake nature is riddled with uneasiness.
If life has taught me anything it's that family isn't forever. And the closer you get to someone, the more likely you are to lose them.
---
"Historia, these are incredible," each member of the girl's Phys. Ed crew echoes out as the bubbly blonde hands out our newly-refined gym uniforms. You could see it in her, it was like she was meant for being student council president. Her giggly laugh, desire to help others and involvement in everyone's lives made her perfect for the role.
Humbly, she keeps accepting the compliments with sweet 'thank yous' that cause her face to turn a shade of rose.
The uniforms are impeccable. I am at a loss for word as to how she was able to create such a piece. Thankfully, they're not whorish or crazy tight, but actually fit our female forms much better than the lousy shit we were given.
She cropped the top into a fitted sports bra, adding supportive padding and seams to ensure that the additional fabric would not jumble in the wash.
Somehow, out of the baggy shorts, she made mid-thigh length biker shorts that were much better for mobility. She definitely had an amazing talent.
A few girls go to give her hugs, but not before she mentions, "Oh and Ymir helped sew them together, too!"
"Ymir, I didn't know you could sew like this," I say, slipping on the more form-fitting attire.
"Anything for head."
"YMIR!" Historia screams out as her face goes ablaze and she shoves Ymir's shoulder, though the action does little to nothing.
Through intermittent laughs, we all slip on our uniforms as Historia and Ymir banter back and forth in the cutest way possible.
In a few more minutes, we're all exiting the room, making our way to the large gym with tan flooring and various mats laid about as I adjust my loosely tied hair into a tighter low bun.
We all stand around Levi who rattles off our last names for attendance. Thankfully, everyone is present for this class so we don't have to endure any more awkward tension.
"Right class," Levi begins, nudging the clipboard underneath his arm and cracking his knuckles. "Today we're going to begin our first unit, wrestling."
Murmurs of thrill race throughout the class as some bump each other and other's faces light up with excitement.
"Instead of me teaching you the basics, we'll spend this class tournament-style so that I can review what you already know. I'll be splitting the class up based upon gender. You'll get a chance to take on everyone in your gender and the last two of you who take the most wins will compete in our final round. Sound good?"
The class, well, the boys, let out small groans at the fact that they won't be wrestling us.
I tap Annie to ask her a question in the same vein, though with a different intent.
"Why is he splitting us up based on gender and not on weight class?" I ask.
"I don't know," she shrugs, "Sexism maybe."
I huff out, though the sound is cut off by Jaeger speaking up on behalf of the less intelligent breed of the class.
"Why you gotta do us like that, Levi? I'm sure some of the girls would love to wrestle with us."
Eren locks his eyes on me.
"Tch," Ackerman replies as he notices the direction Eren's vision fixates on, "Take Baudin on and you'll get your ass drilled to the ground. I think we all saw enough yesterday to know that your skill level pales in comparison."
Our wide-eyed class lets out multiple "oooouuus" at Levi's diss and I send a proud smirk directly back to an angry Jaeger.
"Right," Levi stands expressionless still, "Head to the blue mats I've laid out and begin. You have an hour. First of the duo to tap out loses. Keep track of your scores."
And with that, we're all heading to our mats.
Going with the person I'm most comfortable with, Sasha and I take the blue, tattered mat closest to the corner of the gym. I didn't even have to ask her to partner up, we just both began walking in unison to the same place. It was like the conversation prior had begun to restore the telepathic connection we held, which both brought comfort and a sense of weary anxiety.
"Sash, do you know anything about wrestling?" I ask as we take our place. I begin the preliminary move I had been taught time and time again. Hunching forward and bringing my arms outward, bent slightly at the elbow to approach.
Sasha, on the other hand, somewhat mimicked a graceless crane with two left feet. She brought her hands violently up into the air, bending her hands at the wrist all the while raising her knee to her chest.
"All I know is I'm gonna beat your ass!"
Yeah, let's see about that.
"On three?" I venture, withholding a smirk.
"Fight me you ceramic bitch!" She yells out through a wide smile.
"SASHA!"
"Sorry," she chuckles, "I'm just so excited. I feel like I have to smack talk you."
That excitement quickly dissipates once I've advanced her way after my final, "Three!"
From the confidence she exuded, she now cowers back and exposes her entire form, making this next part relatively easy for me.
I lunge forward and easily lock my arms around her neck, causing her body to swivel to my left. Locking my fingers together to strengthen my hold, she begins to wildly squirm and kick her legs.
Using her own momentum against her, I rapidly flip her body over my head by the lock I have on her shoulder.
She lands with a whump on her back, all the air completely knocked out of her. I don't even have to finish pinning her to the ground before she furiously taps it over and over again.
"I'm out! I'm out! I'm out!" She screams between wild gasps for air.
I take her hand in my own, and pull her off the mat, only to have her fall back on her ass once I let go.
"Let me just...rest here...for a moment..." she exhales as she dramatically falls back and lays in a starfish motion.
"Alright, take as much time as you need. I'm heading over to Ymir and Annie now."
With an extra shot of adrenaline beating through my veins and propelling my heart rate to a faster pace, I make my way over to the mat where Annie now pins down Ymir.
"Ready to take on us?" The blonde smirks as her wrist is shoved between the blades of Ymir's shoulders, smushing her face into the ground.
All those times with Porco weren't going to waste. Hell, my ego would never be able to stand tall again if I gave in.
The combat between the two toned-bodied ladies takes much longer than I anticipate. Ymir puts up a strong fight, but once I've managed to put her in a chancery and bar arm hold, she realizes she's lost.
Her body falls limp in defeat, allowing me to chuck her over my shoulder and pin her to the mat.
However, Annie and I take on a separate approach. Like any good fighter, she'd been watching and analyzing my preferred techniques since the very beginning.
So, when I go to maneuver her in a stance that puts her over my shoulder, I hear the whisper,
"Not so fast. You can't really be this easy to read."
Her elbow comes hurtling down to my back, the impact causing me to fall smack on the floor. However, before she can get in a position to pin me, I succinctly boost my legs up in the air and wrap them around her neck.
With all her energy heading down towards me, I'm able to send her backward.
I sit on top of her chest, legs right around her head as she grimaces before tapping the ground.
"Easy to read from afar, hard to defeat up close," I smirk as she throws back a dull expression.
Levi's whistle resounds over the clamour to indicate it's time for the final two rounds.
We all sit and watch as Reiner and Eren fight for the men's side, me betting $20 on Reiner with Ymir.
As I remember from the days we were kids, Eren still approaches everything with unrelenting tenacity, despite his much weaker form in comparison to Reiner's.
He comes in heavy, heading for Reiner's legs. Once he's latched on, it gives Reiner the perfect opportunity to bend forward and reach over Eren's body.
Reiner pulls Eren up by his legs, sending him in an upside down position flush to Reiner's chest.
I stifle a giggle knowing what's coming next.
With Reiner's strong hold, he pummels Eren's head into the mat and folds Eren's body over itself.
Eren continues to lash out, but Reiner locks his arm around his neck, drilling Eren's back into the ground.
It's only Levi's whistle that calls the battle a victory for Reiner's side as he knows Eren will continue to fight back to matter what.
The two men–one elated and the other enraged–leave the mat while Mikasa and I are called to centre stage.
From what I've seen so far, no one else has been formally trained within this type of combat. Yes, Annie and Ymir were strong, but their form had weak points to it. Areas that were easy to locate if you were well-versed with the techniques.
Out of everyone here, I knew I'd be facing Mikasa in the end. As much as I know she'd hate to admit it at this point, we still held many of the same qualities.
The activities we grew up competing in as children, from taekwondo to aerial gymnastics, were our favourite parts of every week. As we grew older, she was more likely to lean into those competitive sports, not drop off to pursue different passions. That was more of an Armin thing.
I hear muffled whispers vibrate through the students that sit on the dusty ground, no doubt betting on who was going to take this fight.
And if I were as lost as the crowd was, I probably would've put my money on Mikasa, too. However, what they all failed to see was the year's work of daily gym rituals that only served to make me better.
I knew I had this completely, it was just about putting on a show.
Her raven hair swings lightly at the side of her ears once she makes her way up to the mat. To say someone like her was toned would be an understatement. Muscles bend and curve over her exposed skin, gladly showing off an abdomen that might as well have been carved from stone.
I extend a hand to shake before the game would begin, but she refuses and instead moulds her body into the perfect approach.
"Not gonna wish me luck? I thought you'd have at least a little faith in me," I say as I move to the outer edge, leaning into my stance.
Her eyes are thin sword blades with every intent to injure. "I gave up on you a long time ago."
The whistle sounds the start. Our gym falls silent.
The bout begins as we both shuffle around the mat. I take every motion into consideration, trying to analyze her weak spots.
The way her left hand falls slightly lower than her right. How she stutter steps just in the slightest while she seems to be focused. Her eyes that will glance off for not more than a millisecond to find Eren within the crowd.
So fast I almost can't quite catch it, she comes racing down toward my right side.
She locks her arms together under and around my armpit, using brute force to leverage me into the air. Her position causes the rough knuckles of her hands to come in direct contact with the sweat of my neck, the motion radiating pain throughout my whole back.
I feel her getting the upper edge surprisingly enough. My visibility runs hazy. If I didn't move fast, I'd be down in a moment here.
The pressure between my arm and neck sting like needles as I know she's about to throw me to the floor. I shut my eyes and inhale as much air as my raspy lungs can take.
It comes stronger than a tornado wind.
The familiar surge; sending signals of limitless, unruly energy throughout every nerve. The feeling of being vehemently shocked by an electrical wave thrusted through water.
It's what ignites me. What triggers a sense of intense concentration targeted throughout every cell in my body and every drop of blood coursing through my veins. Like a chasm untouched for years, finally exposing its true value all along.
I open my eyes.
She's so focused on the ability for my arms to possibly break free from her lock that she pays no attention to the ground.
Focused. Stutter step. Left lower.
The analysis of Mikasa's weak points proves to be of great benefit as my right leg swings violently at her left.
The motion creates unbalance in her figure, which allows me to find the ground and thrust her body forward, face-first into the mat.
Moving as quickly as I can, I navigate over her body and use the original position of my right leg to help latch my left over her waist.
Unlocking myself from her arm hold with two quick maneuvers that twist her own arm and cause her to screech, I'm able to rotate her body between my leg clamp.
Her arms spread wide and I lock them in tight to my chest, giving a grip so strong throughout all my limbs that she's rendered completely immobile.
The whistle sounds. I've won.
And where Mikasa may have returned to a crowd of whooping and clapping if she had taken the win, I turn to a crowd with mouths dropped and expressions of distemper.
Even Connie managed to stand up and his eyes look about ready to pop out of his head and run away from his own body.
"You tried your best, honey," I say while turning around to extend a hand to Mikasa who's still on the ground.
She knocks it away and downturns the corners of her violet lips. "Move."
Instead of complying, I force her hand into my own and bring her up so roughly that our bodies hit. While her ear is next to mine, I whisper to instigate. "Eren tried to fuck me yesterday. What was it again? 10 years before he even began thinking of you instead of Armin?"
Using my grip, I push her away with no remorse and spin on my heels with a innocent smile.
It's not long before I hear the familiar racing patters incoming from behind me, the hairs standing up on my neck to inform me. I know her rage is not settled.
But what Mikasa has seem to have forgotten, or overlooked, is my ability to remember.
She runs with her upper body low, which means...
Thwack. The cracking sound of my knee colliding with her nose reverberates. My swift turn to impede upon her trajectory sends her back four steps. With a weary look, her hands jump to her bloody nose.
"Alright, that's enough!" Levi yells out. "Change room. Now. You're lucky I'm ending class early or else I'd be making you run laps."
We all make our way back to the chipped green painted doors, but my brisk journey is intercepted with four familiar faces.
"ARA!" Sasha beams as the three boys come to encircle me, "I didn't know you could fight like THAT."
"A few things have changed since you last saw me," I shrug my shoulders, not missing the way Connie still observes me as some sort of science project gone wrong.
Through my peripheral, I watch as he moves from behind Jean and Marco towards my back.
"I'd never think I'd live to see the day when Mikasa was outmatched," Jean rambles, eyes wide with pride.
The incoming sensation meets my neck again and I immediately spin on my heels, igniting enough fear in Connie to make him take a few steps back.
"What are you doing?" I interrogate.
"Your tattoo."
"And what about it?"
He fixates his eyes on the corner of my neck. "I thought it was black."
Everyone looks at him with bewilderment.
"It is black, dummy," I scoff.
"No but I could've sworn I saw it was blue," he goes on, vision connecting with each person in the group.
"Did you not see it yesterday? At the diner?" Jean adds on, bored of Connie.
"Yeah silly," Sasha flicks his sweat-beaded forehead, "Tattoos don't change colour."
"You sure I didn't knock your head too hard when I dropped you on the mat?" Marco chuckles.
We all stare at Connie awaiting his response. His expression shows the most focus I've ever been able to pinpoint on his face from all the years knowing him.
Like a switch that goes off inside his head, he's finally back to being goofy Connie. Sporting a cheesy smile and rubbing the back of his own neck in embarrassment.
"Truthfully, I have no idea what's going on. Ever." He replies amid laughter.
We all take this as our departing message, heading our respective ways. But still, something about the conversation leaves me unsettled. It wasn't the first time I had experienced it before.
I try to push the feeling aside as I peel off the sticky gym clothing. Shoving it into a small tote bag, I run a few scented wipes down my body to collect the sweat and stink. There wasn't enough time to shower, but this always seemed to do the trick.
Once I was back into my clothes, I made my way out the door and back into the hallway, it's cool, refreshing air contrasting the thick stench within the gym.
To my surprise, Jean is standing in the hallway once more. His eyes light up at the sight of me and expose a sheepish grin.
"Got a thing for waiting for me?" I move forward, unable to hide my own smile. "We don't even have our next class together, so what is it this time?"
He folds his hands together as if trying to channel any anxiety away from his head. I'm able to pick up on this due to my own tactics, but his demeanour still exudes the romantic confidence you'd expect to see in a movie.
I take a couple strides so only a few inches separate our bodies.
"I meant to send you a message about this yesterday," he begins, "But Sasha, Connie and I usually head to the skate park on Tuesday afternoons. Marco would come, but he's got another shift he picked up last minute. I have a skateboard in the back of my trunk that you can use, if you don't mind me driving you down? That is, if you wanna come."
It's hard to neglect the little butterflies the whir up as he offers a sweet proposal.
"What class do you have now?" I ask kindly.
His expression is riddled with confusion. "Uh, I have a spare right now."
"Wonderful," I smile. "Do you have a pen on you?"
Even more confused, he fishes out a micron black pen from his pocket, no doubt used for his art work.
"Thank you," I gladly take the pen from his hand and begin writing a string of numbers on his forearm, almost getting distracted by the shear weight of its muscular form.
"What are you–"
"Here," I say, clicking the cap back on. "That's the code to my locker and the number. Grab my helmet from it before we leave so that it doesn't get locked in the school for when you drop me back here. I have chemistry next, so meet me by Rall's classroom and we'll head over."
A smile appears across his face, but it briskly switches out for a flirtatious smirk, wanting to hide the child-like giddiness.
"So it's a date then?" He tucks a my hair behind my ear softly.
I grab his wrist mid-gesture. "Call it a date and I'll invite humpty and dumpty to take up the back seat. I don't do dates."
A chuckle escapes his mouth. "Alright, Ara. See your pretty face in an hour."
We both part our ways and I head in the direction of the chemistry room. Eyes watch my every step and I can't help but think word has already gotten around about the events of last gym class.
Once I reach the doorway to Petra's class I notice Eren, Armin and Mikasa huddled to its right. Mikasa still holds a bloody kleenex to her nose. I hold back a laugh at the sight.
As if on instant, they all look up at me with bitter stares, Eren and Mikasa holding the most fury behind their eyes.
Without a second thought, or any care, I walk beside the group as I head into the classroom, but not before asking, "Lab buddy, are you coming?"
Armin's face goes white as his counterparts stare at him in disbelief. Surely they were going to drag him for his act of treason at some point down the road. I couldn't describe the enjoyment I had getting under the skin of this trio.
Once I've made it into the class and sat at my lab bench, I watch as Armin shuffles in, head hung low. I feel the slightest twang of guilt seeing him, especially as I haven't yet had the chance to talk to him.
Though, with what I pulled outside, I decide now would not be the right time to strike up any sort of friendship. We spend the entire class in silence, jotting down notes before the bell signals the end of the hour.
Jean meets me outside the classroom, just like I had asked. He holds my jet black helmet in one hand, a lazy backpack strap on his shoulder and a phone in the other hand. With the way his trousers cling to his thighs and the way his straight posture exudes tenacity, it's a wonder why he doesn't bike as well. Surely, that'd send everyone over the edge.
"Ready to go?" I speak up over the crowds of freshmen flooding the halls.
"Absolutely," he grins.
On our way out, we both notice Eren and Armin standing beside Levi, brooms in hand as he impatiently sips at his tea and taps his foot.
Jean and I both laugh at the way the two have white cloths over their hair and aprons around their waist. Levi sure made them look like Disney princesses to do the job.
Our commotion causes the two to look up at us. Armin looks defeated, as if he's been sucked into this life purely because of his association with Jaeger. Meanwhile, Eren looks as if he's about ready to snap the broom in two.
Once we reach the hard concrete of our outside walkway, Jean chimes in.
"That was pretty shit what he did to your bike."
"Yeah," I let out, looking in the direction of my now white and black motorcycle.
"You're handling it better than I thought."
"Some things just aren't worth getting worked up about if you can't control them. Plus, I'm getting paid back."
"Still," Jean continues, "If he did anything to my car like that, I'd run him over without a second thought."
Well, that's bullshit. "You say that but yet you all still defend him," I remark.
Avoiding my comment, Jean says, "Speaking of my car, we're here."
His vintage, 280SL Pagoda Mercedes is even more glamorous up close. The top is down to expose a heavily detailed interior. The radio still looks as if it belongs in the '80s, but everything has been updated within to mint condition. A tortoise-shell pattern envelopes around the gear shift and inner trimmings, making me wonder how much this costs to maintain.
"Like her?" he asks.
"How could anyone not?" I hop over the edge of the cherry red door and slide right into the passenger seat.
"Now how am I supposed to hold open the door for you when you do that?" Jean leans over the side, looking useless and defeated.
I pull his chin down toward my face, causing him to flash a pearly-white smile. "Not a date, Jean." I let go.
"Doesn't mean I can't be chivalrous!" he remarks as he slides across the hood of his car, swinging his keys around his finger.
Jean hops over in the same way that I did, bringing his body to fill out the light beige, leather seat.
I don't want him to catch me staring at how his god-like body reacts under the blazing heat of the sun, a deep tan kissing every inch of his skin.
Forcefully, I draw my attention away and look around the car, squinting under the sunlight.
I pull open the console to find seven pairs of Ray Ban sunglasses inside.
I steal jet black ones with thin frames and carefully put them on my nose. I turn to Jean who was openly watching my every move.
"How do I look?" I wiggle my shoulders and do a little dance in the seat.
"Fuck," he breathes out.
I expected a flirtatious banter to unfold, but this throws me off. The queasy thrill folds over in my stomach.
"That good?" I smirk.
He breaks his stare and turns on the engine. "You can just keep those ones."
"Oh, that's not necessary," I add.
"You can keep them if you promise I get to see them on you at least once a day," he builds off his prior statement.
I finally face the windshield. "Well, I guess that's a fair trade."
Jean places one hand on the wheel and another on the back of my seat as he turns his face to reverse from the stall.
Jawline clenched and grip heavy on each of his two points of contact, it's evident why I see every other girl drool over his body. In fact, I was collecting a few bitch stares from the parking lot itself. Specifically, a group of young girls that fold their arms over in disgust.
I flip them off.
Once I turn back to Jean, he's staring at me with a smile. "That's my girl."
"Two taps and Sasha could be right here," I wave my phone at his possessive comment.
Shaking his head, Jean finishes up his reversal and zooms out of the parking lot with complete disregard for the students walking about, causing some to have to jump out of the way.
As we make our way onto the road sandwiched between fields of lush, green grass and overwhelming dandelions, Jean leans forward to switch on the old radio which he's somewhat managed to implement bluetooth into.
[🎵 good company - john-robert; y'all this is the MOST jean song i've ever listened to]
He notices my fixated stare of surprise on the audio.
"Floch did it for me," he adds, "If you need anything technical made, he can do it. He's annoying as fuck, but worth it."
I laugh as the wind cascades perfectly through the strands of Jean's ash brown hair, his stubble begins to move as he softly hums to the tune of the song.
He feels like the man of every girl's dreams. The knight in shining armour that unravels you with stares held for a second long enough to make you squirm and all the right words to make you replay situations over and over in your head.
A gust causes the button down to expose more of his chest and bring the thin shirt flat against his abdomen as he casually serves in and out of traffic.
"Let's slow down the tempo, take it slow in the back seat," Jean sings lowly in a soothing tenor tone.
"If you know what I mean," he turns his vision towards me, "I'm thinking you know what I mean."
He rests his arm on the outside of his door before finishing off, "I simply find you to be good company."
A heat radiates of my chest at the interaction. He knew exactly what he was doing and I couldn't deny its effectiveness.
I just hope my one and done nature would bode well with his romantic flair.
He leans in to turn down the radio, nudging his sunglasses down enough so he can get a better view of me as we stop at a light.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I roll my eyes in attempt to overpower the internal butterflies.
"I was thinking more of a painting," he comments.
"Pardon?"
"A painting," he reiterates, "Would you be up for being my muse?" he attractively asserts as I try to ignore the seduction dripping from his tone.
"Only if you're not shit at art," I chirp back while adjusting my posture in the seat, "I don't want to be depicted like the way Connie looked at me today."
Jean lets out a cool laugh and seems to be proud that he got me to squirm just in the slightest. "I'm so glad I finally got to meet you," he grins as the engine revs, propelling us forward through the now green light.
Probably wouldn't have said that if you knew me before.
"Oh, speaking of when I should've gotten to meet you that first time," Jean continues, "Jaeger's having a party this Friday night. Sasha's organizing it to be 2000s theme or whatever. I think it would be ten times better with your company."
We round into the desolate parking lot of the skate park. "I can promise you a maybe," I sigh, knowing there's about a 95% chance I'll be there.
"That's good enough for me," he finishes as the engine hums to a halt. We both open our doors and head to the trunk, Jean pulling out a well-worn skateboard.
He holds up its bottom to show me the artwork. It's done up in an impressionist style, though the subject matter differs wildly from the canon of work which was painted by the pioneers within the movement.
Instead of fields of flowers or midnight cafes, the artwork is of a wild partying night, most likely referenced off of a polaroid still from one of his favourite evenings.
"Like it?" he asks with worry instead of the confidence I'm used to.
"It's incredible, Jean. Are those the four of you?" I begin to make out the hair colours of everyone within the group as the painting comes to life.
"Yeah," Jean smiles before placing the board on the ground and shutting the trunk closed, "Eren took it at Connie's birthday so I painted it. I wanted to be reminded of the great family I have here."
"Well, you can paint me any time," I say. Jean's eye glimmer with eagerness.
"What took you guys so long! It takes thirty seconds to drive here from the school!" Sasha yells out from the bottom of the park, purple penny board in hand.
Jean pushes off the board and heads toward the ramps that shoot downward, myself jogging behind. Once he reaches the top, he smoothly rides down to where Connie and Sasha stand in the middle.
The park itself is massive. Slate grey concrete with a variety of wooden kickers to move around. It almost seems like it's own little world, especially with the way the overgrown forest impedes upon its form.
Stair cases and banisters fill out some of the edges while most contain a variety of different sized ramps. On the very edge, the park comes into contact with the ground below. An old power plant seems to be tucked away at its side.
"Sash," Connie laughs, " I don't know if you want the answer to that question." He wiggles his eyebrows.
"Hush, hush children," Jean clanks their heads together, "Just took her on the scenic route is all."
"Yeah and I bet she saw a lot of stuff," Connie slides in.
"That's enough," I say when I finally reach the crew, noticing Connie has a razor scooter with him.
"Watch what we can do!" Sasha bursts out as her and Connie run to the sides of the park. They both mount their devices and launch straight to a spine at the same time.
I wince in preparation for them to collide right into each other, but they successfully make it across at the same time, fist-bumping mid-air before they hit the concrete once again.
"YES!" Sasha screams. "Took us a whole summer of smashing right into each other before we could do that!"
"Yeah and I got THREE concussions because of your bright idea Sash," Connie retorts, though the grin on his face contradicts the words he says.
I smile at the wholesome interaction. Jean turns to me and kicks the skateboard in my direction. "Wanna try?" he asks.
"Of course," I respond as I begin to mount the board. Awkwardly though, Jean comes in close and I let him grab both my wrists as he thinks I need support.
"Okay, okay. So first, what you wanna do is place your dominant foot on–"
"Jean." I scold with raised eyebrows.
"Mm?" he questions, looking at me with a subtle smile.
"I beat Marco and you in a race by cutting a fucking roundabout in half on my motorcycle," I strain out the last word. "Do you think I don't know how to stand on a wooden board with four plastic wheels?"
With a chuckle, Jean lets go of my hands and stares at me with adornment glossed over his eyes.
"How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?" He inquires.
"Furious. Now do it quickly."
My quick reply causes his eyes to grow three times bigger, a nervous twitch dancing at the corner of his brow.
I roll my eyes dramatically with a grin before cupping his face with my hand. Propping myself up just a tad as I still can't reach his handsome face on top of the skateboard, I lean in closer.
Briefly, I connect our lips for a peck. Though the kiss is short and fulfilling to the punchline of comical banter, it still does not cease to light up every one of my limbs with an electric buzz.
I ignore the way my head spins and the way my body desires more. I have to remind myself I'm not one for relationships. It's that one and done experience I go by. That's how life stays interesting enough for me to keep pushing on.
Pulling back, I see Jean open his eyes and return to the bizarre look he held before; pink, pouted lips left slightly agape. I drop my hands from the prickly stubble to the rough texture of my own denim, and give a goofy eyebrow raise.
"DID YOU JUST KISS HER?" Connie yelps while him and Sasha attempt to share her penny board at once. Connie has the exact expression Jean holds on his own face and points a finger directly at me; Sasha's hands seem to have found her mouth and cover it completely.
"No," I grin, staring at the two, "I kissed him. Jean pussied out when I asked him to so I just did it myself."
Connie erupts in a loud laughter, though I don't miss the small ounce of irritation. I turn back to Jean to find him still immobile in the exact way I had left him. It was like his body had forgotten how to function.
"You still there?" I slightly wave at him.
He finally looks at me and gains some composure. "Can we do it again?"
"No," I chuckle.
"Not yet?" He offers.
I step down slightly to push off on one foot, sending me forward and away from Jean before adding in, "Maybe," with a wink.
We spend the next hour and a half speeding through the course. Tripping, falling and laughing at our failed attempts to try new tricks off of the many ramps and flat rails within the park. About halfway through, Sasha runs out and brings us all back slushies and chips to snack on.
Sasha and Connie are currently sitting on each of their boards, racing down the tall ramps when Jean's voice commands us all.
"Ahh, Ren's here. Everybody clear out."
Turning over my shoulder, I see Eren strolling over, a new brunette with vivacious curves attached at his side.
"What in the fifth grade is this?" I ask. "Why do we have to leave?"
"Well you see," Jean goes on, "Eren's parents willed him this park."
"And?"
"And," Connie adds, "That means he can technically fine us for being on it. He just has to make up that we broke some sort of rule and we all get a ticket in the mail."
"He wouldn't," I say, though I even don't believe myself.
"He would and he did," Sasha nods her head rapidly.
"Hey Bella," the sultry voice is now a few feet away from me. It takes every recollection of Ackerman and I's conversation not to smack Jaeger upside the head.
"Guess you haven't heard the rules yet," he continues as the ditzy girl plays with the tufts of her hair.
"I have and I don't give a fuck." I hear Sasha's breath hitch behind me, "Take whatever fines you want to throw at us off of the money you owe me for my bike."
Eren snickers. "Well, that might cost more than what I owe you. Pretty sure I saw your model at a thrift store last weekend. Now, time to go," he shoos us while nodding to the girl next to him, "I have business."
"No." I state.
"Move. Or I'll move you."
I close the gap between us. "Last I checked, I hit you so hard you probably saw Carla for a few seconds. You should practically be thanking me."
Holy shit is what I hear Connie quietly say behind me.
The lime of Eren's eyes mimic the blazing heat of an eternal flame. "You're lucky you're cute, otherwise you'd be a fucking psychopath."
I give him an overdone fake smile as he relaxes, not wanting to embarrass himself. Instead, he turns to the whole group and pulls the girl closer to his side.
"Hey everyone, this is–"
"I don't care." I cut him off and skate away, going back to my comfortable pattern.
"Wow, you're a bitch," the squeaky voice of the brunette chimes in.
I turn back. "Thanks! That's the best compliment I've got all week."
Jean sports a frustrated look on his face before I ride back over to him, placing my hands on his shoulders and whispering into his ear. "Just to annoy them, you're great with that whole complimenting thing or whatever."
Jean smiles at my struggle to show kindness but accepts it still. I begin going back through the ramps as Eren and his counterpart take a seat on one at the far side of the park.
[🎵 copycat - billie eilish; 🎵 darkside - grandson]
I funnel the anger boiling my blood into my physical ability, using the park as my outlet to gain back the peace I felt moments ago.
Hopping off the board, I let out a huff as Connie and Sasha seem to be back to their own antics.
I'm on the outer corner of the park, aligned to the flat rail that resides in the middle.
Unlike the feeling of frustration that holds me back from succeeding, much like this morning with Porco, anger is what fuels me to hit unparalleled levels of expertise.
I shed my black zip up leaving me in my loose fitting jeans and a-line obsidian cropped tank.
How had Eren gotten away with continuously manipulating the people who had cared about him most?
I throw my hair out of the low bun, letting the long mocha locks trickle down my spine and wrap over my neck.
And his actions seemed to have just been getting worse since the day I left. The way he lied to Sasha and made the kindest human being feel like the root of the problem caused an unrelenting turmoil to invigorate me.
With immense speed, I shoot forward on the board and lock in with the rusty cylinder.
He not only wanted me to leave, but he wanted pure control over everyone around him. He leveraged his family's past to get whatever he wanted, using it as a scapegoat to support all his malicious deeds.
The board screeches as it grinds against the rusty metal. I twist my body perpendicular to the obstacle and slide off with ease, maintaining my speed.
The more I think, the deeper the anger gets. It shoves my vision into a small pin-hole, only gathering the senses that fall in my two-foot vicinity.
I pick up a nearby kicker while racing down the concrete course, dropping it right in front of a pyramid built moulded into the ground.
Carving in and around a few obstacles, I once again align myself with the kicker. I finally dismount the board and walk about four meters behind it.
My mind is a battlefield driven by remorse. It almost hurt me for a moment–the way I knew Mikasa, the alluring girl who made me promise I'd be her maid of honor in grade six, was smart enough to see through all this bullshit as well and still actively chose to take Eren's side, no matter the cost.
I begin my sprint, jumping onto the board with an even faster pace than before. In a few moments, I've mounted the kicker and am suspended in air.
Grabbing the base of the board to tuck it in close, I bend my knees.
If I had left, would this have still happened? Or would I have been strong enough to fight against it?
Fuck that. I already know the answer. I hate every inch of who I was before.
The board smashes into the concrete and keeps moving. There's no way in hell I would've landed this just twenty minutes ago.
It's speed pushes me up a nearby side ramp that dips into the park itself. I race up it and for the first time notice that no one else is riding anymore.
The momentum of shooting down the ramp heads me in the direction of the park's tallest vert ramp. I redirect my course not even considering the 10ft monstrosity I'm heading towards.
The only thing my mind can seem to focus on is the unfair circumstances all these innocent people had to endure thanks to a juvenile with too much power.
Without thinking, I realize I'm in the air.
A panic fills my veins. Never have I attempted something like this, let alone now 12ft in the air.
I breathe out calmly. Grabbing the nose of the board, I kick my feet out slightly, attempting an airwalk.
"Otherwise you'd be a fucking psych–"
The board finally lands back onto the ramp when me feet make contact. I'm falling down the vert, yet somehow still stable on the weak mechanism.
Fuzzily in the background, I hear shouts and screams of excitement.
But I make one fatal mistake. The landing causes me to zoom across to the side of the park where Eren sits. I'm coming down with speed like I've never used before when I see the devil-like smirk on his face.
Using only a small pebble, Eren throws a rock directly in front of one of my wheel's path.
The collision causes the board to halt movement completely, my momentum shooting it backward while my wrists come into contact with the concrete to break my fall.
"EREN," I hear Jean command with a rage an intensity I never thought possible to leave his lips.
Moments later we hear a sick-in-your-stomach crash from the direction that the board went in. With the way Eren positioned his throw, the board shot back into the only side of the park exposed to the nature around us, specifically the abandoned power plant.
"Are you okay?" Jean comes kneeling down next to me, Sasha and Connie following shortly after.
While my wrists did smack into the ground, I was prepared enough to push some of the speed into a somersault. This is probably the only reason why both arms aren't currently snapped in two.
I stare at the scuffing around my hands and down my arms. Blood leaks from a few cuts, but nothing worth visiting a clinic for. Not that I would anyways.
However, Sasha seems to think the opposite.
"Ara! We need to get you to a hospital," she panics, biting down on her nails and visibly shaking.
I drop my hands to the side and look up at her. "No, no. I'm fine. I promise," I turn to Jean, "But we should grab your board."
His look turns from worry to fury as he looks up, locking eyes on Eren who approaches us.
"No," he points, "This son of a bitch needs to get my board. What the fuck Eren?" He stands tall, ready to push him over.
"I'll just buy you a new one," Eren shrugs with his hands in his pockets. He looks down at me, green irises fully amused by my humiliation and pain.
But I remember the glee Jean had when showing me the artwork he traced into every crevice of this board. Money wouldn't buy back something that meant that much to him.
I rise on my own, neglecting Connie's hand that tries to bring me up. Once I stand up, I brush my hands on my jeans without thinking, internally wincing at the rubbing pain.
"You're a fucking asshole," I say as I turn to Eren, even more pride racing through him at my remark.
I start making my way over to the power plant. Cracks, dead vines and graffiti embellish its every curve.
"Where are you going?" I hear Connie yell after me.
"To grab the board," I say nonchalantly while keeping my eyes fixated on the ominous building.
There were very few things I was scared of. The main thing right now being the memories that haunted my sleep. However, adventuring into this building could be a contender.
Even in the daylight, it held a menacing demeanour. I notice a small window, ones that you'd see on the side of a basement. It's composition is completely destroyed, glass spewed all over the dead grass and a whole on its left.
The window is just about four inches off the ground, but large enough for one body to slide in.
I squat down to see that jumping down into the building would land me on a rusty, metal deck about seven feet down from the window itself. It was still a pretty cramped space with no lighting except what filtered through the window we had shattered.
"Oh hell no," Connie chimes in, "No one's going down there. I don't plan on seeing a dead body today."
"But you plan on seeing one eventually?" I laugh as I rise up, but everyone seems to look at me with worry, except Eren who watches a few feet to the side with a blank expression on his face.
"Don't tell me you're actually thinking about going in there," Jean says, "I really don't need it back that badly."
I refuse to answer him, especially because I can tell he's lying. The way he tried to keep a straight tone but failed shows me that this is something that means a lot to him.
I walk off for a moment into the nearby shrubs and fish out a semi-thick stick. Sasha looks at the whole building in fear while Connie squats down in the same way I had before. Jean, however, keeps his eyes trained on my next action.
Taking the stick, I use it to trace the inside of the window, getting rid of all the glass shards that could potentially slice through my hand. The window has now become a 4ft by 3ft opening.
Kicking away the glass from the brown grass that intersects with the bottom ledge, I sit myself down and let my feet dangle into the lifeless power plant's space. From this proximity, I can faintly hear subtle drips of water and quiet clanging from inside.
I lock my hands onto the top of the window sill before Jean rushes to my side.
"Seriously, Ara. It's not that important. Go in there and you literally might die."
I smile up at him. "Well at least one of us will get what we want then."
Hearing Sasha's dramatic gasp behind me, my feet come into contact with the metal platform, glass crunching underneath.
I let out a breath. At least this part was stable. I was a bit worried that it might give out the moment I landed on it.
Looking around, it's hard to make out the place itself. It seems like there is a narrow stairway that leads down to this platform on the left, though when I look up, I see a couple stairs completely falling a part from rust.
The only other way out from this platform is a narrow tunnel that juts off from it. With the walls being composed of dirty white brick and cracks all around, it feels like the building could collapse at any moment.
I find a light switch and make a feeble attempt to flick it on. Nothing happens, which is to be predicted. Taking out my phone, I turn on my flashlight.
A loud commotion rumbles from behind me and shakes the platform, causing me to spin on my heels.
The sight fills me with shock. I see Eren swiping dirt off his pants before he makes eye contact with me. He jumped in, too.
"Is someone deciding to play hero for today?" I turn forward and keep scouring the area for the skateboard.
"I feel like I have a better right to ask you that question," he replies. I choose not to continue wasting my time with the conversation, instead venturing a bit further down the tunnel.
He lazily follows in my direction, also flicking on his phone flashlight.
"What did you say again before you jumped in here?" he asks, almost with genuine curiosity.
"None of your business," I lash out, taking a few more creaky steps.
"Is there something wrong?" he pushes once more.
"I said, none of your goddamn business. Stop wasting my time trying to get information you're just going to twist against me."
He reacts in mock hurt, hand over his heart before bumping into the wall. Finally, I find the skateboard flipped over on the ground and pick it up.
"You really think that little of me?" he plays.
I meet his gaze and flash the light directly in his face, causing him to grimace and squint. "Who wouldn't? Oh, and you leaned into a shit ton of cobwebs. They're all in your hair."
Rapidly, Eren begins combing through his hair and shaking his head. I smile as I turn away, knowing the last part was a lie. Once I reach the window, I shove the board through to hear three sighs of relief.
Jean sticks his hand out to me. "Want me to pull you up?"
"Orrrrr," Eren sings into my ear quietly. I turn and give him a look of disgust for being so close to me, which only makes him smirk.
He attempts to take my hand but I pull it away. Last thing I would want to be is his fuck toy in any light, even if it was in his own imagination.
"Are you up for a little adventure?" he coos, turning his light to the tunnel.
"No thanks." I state, beginning to latch my fingers onto the window.
"You can beat up half the class and practically fly in the air, but you're afraid of the dark?" he mocks, but I don't forget the way it ended up forming into a compliment.
"Yeah, yeah whatever," I reply, showing him no care.
"Do this and I won't fine the three," he looks back up to the window.
This halts me for a moment. I wouldn't regularly be one for doing acts of kindness for other people, but at the same time, I felt like I owed them for how they immediately took to my side and made me feel a little less alone.
I shake my head. "I fucking hate you," I breathe under by breath as I start moving in the direction of the tunnel.
"AYO, where are you going?" Connie's voice booms and echoes around us.
"Bella owes me one," Eren winks back, causing all three that sit on the grass to roll their eyes.
Jean pipes up. "If she gets hurt–"
"Yeah whatever, Jean. That's what you tell me about every one of your flings before they end up wanting to fuck me later."
I hear his footsteps begin jogging up behind me, clamouring down the metal runway. The tunnel runs for a few minutes as we walk slowly in tandem, neither of us daring to lead the way.
"Are there any other ways to get inside the power plant?" I ask, painting the walls with my light.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Eren teases.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, I would. It's be nice to know if we should be expecting a greeting party down here."
"I think there might be one way around the back," he says.
"Did you ever go into it?"
"No," he continues, "No one else would come in with me."
"And you didn't just go in alone?" I inquire.
"I'm not stupid," he remarks.
"Yeah, just little scared right?"
"Yea–Wait, no," he scowls.
We have to duck at the end of the tunnel, noticing a white door with a circular window that's half closed. "Hey, you said it, not me. And may I remind you, I jumped in here alone with no worry."
He scoffs. "That just makes you stupid."
"Whatever you say," I chuckle seeing how he's turning flustered.
As we squeeze through the door, we enter another round of wide stairs that seem to be stable enough to climb down. The top of the platform holds old canisters of various gasses labelled with explosive warnings.
We both venture down in silence minus the subtle shaking of the building. Once we reach the bottom, our lights show us that we've made it to an old water treatment system, the sound of rain drops echoing in every corner.
But something seems, off. If it were really an abandoned treatment centre, then we'd only hear these drops and the soft rush of the small river inside. We wouldn't be hearing various splashes ever so slightly in the background. Or maybe I was the only one hearing them?
I stop at the bottom of the stairs, wanting to listen a bit closer.
Eren, however, keeps trudging along before calling back. "What's the hold up?"
"Just listening," I reply, "Something sounds a little off to me."
"You're just in your head," he laughs, "Nothing could survive down here."
He stands in the underground system, drops of dew hitting the tunnel of water that glistens in the phone-lit area.
Grandly, he turns around and begins walking backwards, staring at my more illusive form. "See? Nothing to be afraid about. But I'm definitely going to make sure you don't live this down," he grins widely, ego laced in every word he speaks.
Eyes.
There are yellow eyes four feet behind Eren's head, for some reason up higher than his tall form.
"And you're still scared!" He cries out, leaning over with a belly aching laugh, "You should see the look on your face right now, the whites of your eyes could practically light up this place."
The two vibrant dots slowly advance.
"Eren..."
"What, Bella? Don't like the dark or something? Because that's where the freakiest–"
"Eren don't move." Long-pinned teeth accompany the irises, shimmering in the shadows.
Not listening to a word I say, Eren begins to turn to where my eyes are fixated, "Bella, what the hell are you–"
His interaction causes the distorted face to advance at a breathtaking speed. In an instant, I'm running forward and shoving Eren back to the stairwell.
"EREN. RUN."