The Demon Slayer Corps hadn't been a formal military organization, per se.
There had been no specific branch that was tasked with formal, standardized training. Cultivators of Breath styles took on students to pass on their craft, and slayer-hopefuls who did not land themselves such a mentor usually had training from within the ranks or, in rare cases, were entirely self-taught.
The closest thing that there was to a formal training camp was the sadistic amalgamation of "training" that the Pillars (herself included) had put the lower ranks through just before Muzan's attack on Ubayashiki Manor. Even then, those who had come to them were not only full-fledged demon slayers but (mostly) battle-hardened veterans.
That distinction was probably why it was pretty damn funny to Mikoto how the Commandant of the 104th Southern Cadet Training Corps was attempting to scream combat stress acclimation and backbone into a bunch of snot-nosed fifteen-year-olds.
" Listen up! I've seen a lot of shit in my time, but you are the sorriest pieces of shit I've ever seen! " The tall bald man yelled as he marched down the lines. Eyes zeroing in on his next victim, he stopped before a tall boy just the row in front of her. " Who are you?! "
" Jean Kirstein, from Trost! " The boy with the ash brown hair repiled.
" What are you doing here?! " Mikoto couldn't see the smirk on the boy's face from her position but she certainly heard it in his reply.
" Joining the Military Police for a life deep within the walls. "
The redhead bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek to swallow her laughter when the instructor headbutted the boy.
Despite her initial amusement, Mikoto began to tune out the barks of the Commandant soon enough. It was funny the first few times but watching brats being put into their place got old when she wasn't the one spitting burns. So, she let her gaze fall to the side in search of stimulation to ease her out of mind-numbing boredom when movement from her right caught her eye.
It was a girl, of average height, with brown hair pulled up in a ponytail and brown eyes of the same shade. She was all-around unremarkable to the eye. After all, it wasn't the girl's appearance that had caught Mikoto's eye but rather the potato she had pulled from who-knows-where within her standard-issue jacket.
Was this bitch for real?
Mikoto raised an eyebrow as she side-eyed the brunette. Slowly, but entirely conspicuously, the brunette raised the potato to her lips and took a giant (loud) bite. Mikoto cackled internally.
The Potato Bitch was for real!
And it seemed like she caught more than just Mikoto's attention.
" Hey, you... What are you doing? " Instructor Skullface looked so unbalanced that Mikoto would've snickered if she wasn't within his line of sight. The situation was so ridiculous that the man completely forgot to even yell.
As if deaf or half-witted, Potato Bitch didn't so much as flinch, her entire concentration put towards savoring the potato she was consuming. That was all the head instructor needed to start yelling again.
" You're the one I'm talking to! You! Who are you?! "
Mikoto almost wheezed when the girl saluted, slamming her fist (and the half masticated potato) to her chest.
" Sasha Blouse, from Dauper Village, Wall Rose South District! "
" Sasha Blouse, what are you holding in your right hand? "
" A boiled potato! " The girl replied shamelessly. Mikoto was going to bust a blood vessel using Total Concentration Breathing to keep herself from laughing. " The kitchen had a fresh batch, and I couldn't resist. "
" Did you steal it? " The Commandant was mystified, tone placid as he took in the incredulity of it all. " Why? Why would you choose to eat a potato now? "
" Letting it get cold would've been a waste, so I decided I should eat it now. "
" I still don't understand... Why would you eat that potato? " Potato Bitch frowned, a mixture of confusion and genuine sadness crossing her face as she considered her superior officier's question.
" Are you asking me why people eat potatoes? "
Mikoto immediately bit her tongue and tensed her stomach muscles to keep her laughter at bay as the girl broke off a tiny part of the potato and extended it, almost regretfully, to the man, claiming it to be 'half'.
What a fucking riot!
—
" Potato Girl is still running, " Baldie (the who got his head squeezed, Mikoto recalled with sadistic glee) remarked, whistling lowly as he watched the girl jog along the perimeter of the facility.
The sun was setting over the Southern Training Division and Potato Bitch— bless her gluttonous soul— was still running. Mikoto snickered internally as she thumbed the pages of her book, perched lazily on a railing with her feet lazily grazing the ground. She was surprised that that girl even made it so long. Apparently, she wasn't the only one.
" Wow, five straight hours? " A voice she didn't recognize from Shadis's initiation pipped up. " Then again, she was way more upset when he said she won't get dinner than when he told she had to run 'til she dropped... "
Mikoto peered over the top of her book in mild curosity about the boy who hadn't been hazed. At first glance, she wondered why he hadn't been so, considering he looked to be nothing more than a pretty boy.
His bone structure was certainly attractive, with high cheekbones with a little baby fat clinging to them and a sharp proportional jaw. His dark brown hair fell around his face, parted down the center, and his eyebrows were full and boyish; it complimented his lightly tanned skin well. Altogether a pretty boy— but not exactly the hardened soldier she was expected from someone who escaped the Commandant unscathed.
Upon closer inspection, pretty boy belied a little more substance.
The boy stood tall and proud but his hands twitching at his side, with his knees slightly bent and one foot a little in front of the other as if ready to shift into a fighting stance at any moment. His knuckles were skinned— like he'd been in a fight. His frame, though a little on the willowy side, seemed to be leaned with muscle. Judging from the way his cheeks held less fat than she'd typically expect from a boy who ate three square meals, he was used to fighting to survive.
That desperation to survive, the fire of sheer will, shone in those startling, starling green eyes of his. Mikoto hummed, tilting her head almost imperceptibly from side to side.
She'd call him Green Eyes.
With a little nod to herself, she went back to her reading; though keeping half an ear on the conversation. If her upbringing had taught her anything, it was that any information was always good. Her fellow cadets conversed a little more about Dauper— the hunting village Potato Bitch was from, apparently— and dropouts before Green Eyes caught her attention yet again.
" I'm from Shiganshina, the same as him. " Her breath hitched.
Shiganshina. Where it...?
" Then, you were there that day? " Baldie gawped, earning panicked squawks from the naive freckled boy not so creatively termed Freckles. " Did you see the Colossal Titan? "
Oh, boy, the redhead pursed her lips slightly as she side-eyed the boy, don't say yes or you'll never hear the end of it. Of course, he didn't heed her telepathic advise.
" Yeah. "
Well into dinner, cadets surrounded the sorry fool, forcing him to jabber on and on.
" ... I already told you I saw it... Big enough to look over the walls... No, it wasn't that tall... It barely had any skin, but it had a huge mouth... "
Mikoto rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it. Then again, she suppose she had to be somewhat thankful that Green Eyes had diverted attention off of her being the shiny chew toy. She'd noticed one or two of the more friendly-looking cadets eyeing her as if wanting to come and befriend her before they'd been diverted by the Titan talk.
Dipping her silver spoon into her stew, she stirred for a moment before deeming it safe to consume. It was bland and chunky but she forced it down knowing that she'd need the energy for the intense workouts to come... even if she mourned her tastebuds.
Finally deciding she had enough of being in close proximity to plebians, she dropped her empty bowl in the return area and skirted around the most crowded parts of the Mess to beat a hasty exit. Instead of his green eyes this time it was his loud confident voice and exuberance that caught her attention once more.
" I'm joining the Survey Corps— " he declared "— so I can wipe the Titans off the face of this earth! I'll kill them all! "
Mikoto almost paused as she passed the threshold of the door. In the distant recesses of her mind, in another place another time, another girl (the one she used to be) let out a similar war cry.
Oni ga... zenbu korosete yaru!
She couldn't resist peeking over her shoulder at the green-eyed boy.
Perhaps I'm not so alone.
—
What a joke, Mikoto scoffed as she hung motionless from two wires, I forced down that shitty stew... for this...?
The sun was high in the sky and doing absolutely nothing for her mood considering she was bored as fuck. Arms folded across her chest and a scowl tugging at her lips, she could've cried out of relief (if she wasn't entirely sure that she had tear ducts) when her ten minutes were up.
" You didn't even tremble! Not once! " The instructor who's name she didn't bother to learm gawked, slack-jawed at her as she was unhooked from the station. She could basically see the sparkles in his wide eyes. " How did you do that, Rothschild? "
" I breathed? "
She wasn't sure why her alleged superior was treating the act of hanging in mid-air like it was some great skill. It was literally that: hanging. It was only a matter of tensing the core, evening her weight out and breathing. Sure, she'd been using Total Concentration Breathing, but she was always using Total Concentration Breathing, it was basically normal breathing to her.
" Ridiculous, " the soldier murmured, " you and that Ackerman girl both. "
For a good moment, Mikoto genuinely had no idea who 'that Ackerman girl' was before she realized, ah, Red Scarf.
Her bunkmate.
She'd met the girl with the red scarf the evening prior when she'd walked in on her hacking her hair off over a sink. Expectedly, they'd both been stunned. They looked disturbingly similar to each other, after all. Not in the way people of the same ethnicity or from the same region look similar but they'd look similar on a familial level.
If the other girl had been taller, with shoulders that were teensy-bit more narrow and limbs a little less corded with muscle... If Mikoto had raven hair paired, a less defined cupid's bow, and softer, rounder, slightly down-turned eyes...
They'd have been twins.
So the girls stared at each other with placid expressions, surveying each other carefully before Red Scarf raised her right hand. In a sure, fluid motion, she pushed down her sleeve to reveal a small tattoo inked onto the back of her wrist.
The mon of the three swords.
Mikoto responded by wordlessly raising her left hand, revealing the same mon on the inside of her left wrist. Then they'd stared at each other some more, before the shorter girl nodded once and the redhead jerked her chin up in response.
When they met again for the second time at their bunk beds, they barely acknowledged each other's presence.
" You're dismissed, Rothschild. There's no need for you to practice this. " The instructor's admission pulled her back to the present. Well, that cleared out her schedule for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, she shrugged noncommittally and beat a hasty retreat— lest Head Instructor Skullface caught her 'slacking'.
Perhaps she would kill the sudden abundance of time she had with going over her sword forms?
In her haste to separate herself from the pack, she didn't notice a pair of wide blue eyes pinned to her retreating form.
—
" There's one more person we can ask for advice. Rothschild— " Armin's brows furrowed as he later tried to recall the reclusive girl's first name "— Cadet Rothschild. She was in my group earlier and she got it on the first try. "
Eren shrugged. He was in no position to argue, clearly needing all the help he could get.
So they set out to search for the girl, first at the Girls' Barracks, much to a lot of the other girls' ribbing and giggling— thankfully Mikasa had been in the shower— before they found the girl in question reclining on the dry grass of a training field, arms cushioning her head as she stared up at the moon in the night sky.
Armin wondered what she was thinking about to make her look so sad. Nevertheless—
" Rothschild...? " The blue-eyed boy squeaked hesitantly. The only indication that he was even audible was the almost imperceptible lift of her brow as her eyes slid over in their direction. " Um, Miss...? Roths...child...? "
" Miss? " She almost looked like she was going to laugh before clearing her throat thoroughly. " It's Mikoto, " she said instead. " What do you want, Mumbles? "
" ...Mumbles? " Eren pointedly ignored Armin's existential crisis. Instead, he single-mindedly bulldozed past his friend and word-vomitted questions at the other cadet.
" What's the trick for staying upright?! You didn't even wobble earlier, right?! How did you do it?! Can you teach me?! Please! " His earnest and panicked voice echoed possibly too loudly in the still night air— all three of them were out past curfew after all.
The boys both froze, eyes darting about as if the Commandant would pop out of nowhere and yell them into an early grave. Mikoto was less perturbed. In fact, judging from her relaxed posture, reclined on the grass, she'd be the type of person to simply raise an eyebrow in the face of their instructor's yelling and send him into an early grave.
The silence was tense as the girl slowly pulled herself to her feet and only served to tense more when she circled Eren like a buzzard around a carcass. His stomach flip-slopped as her scrutinizing gray eyes swept over him.
Finally—
" Breathing, " she stated nonchalantly. " I breathed. "
" Breathing? " Eren let out the breath he had been holding in, a look of supefifcation coming to rest over his (usually scowl-ridden) features. Armin nodded, a hand touching his chin as he thought back to that morning.
" Right, you mentioned that to the instructor this morning... " he mumbled thoughtfully. His mind whirled to piece together how the simple act of breathing could give a person an edge when done in, he hypothesized, a special way.
Eren was less thoughtful.
" That's it? " Mikoto rolled her eyes at his incredulous tone.
" You say that like you can breath correctly, " the redhead scoffed. Looking him over, up and down, once more she jutted her chin up and looked down her nose at him haughtily. " Plant your feet firmly, relax your upper half, and breathe. "
Eren scowled but was decidedly desperate enough to do as she said. Shifting his feet hip-with apart, he held the slightest bend in his knees as he took a breath in... and was summarily winded when she slammed the heel of her palm into his stomach.
" Wh...at the he..hell... " he wheezed, arms curling around his sore stomach as Armin panicked indistinctly in the background.
" Your breathing technique is wrong. You're utilizing half of your lung capacity... if that, " she stated, wholly unapologetically as the boy gasped for air. Once he had gotten a hold of himself, she repeated her previous command— " Plant your feet firmly, relax your upper half. "
Circling him once more, she narrowed her eyes obviously noticing some error that Eren clearly was not privy to.
" Relax your shoulders— relax for fuck's sake— they should be down and away from your ears, you're not fucking neckless, are you— so fucking tense, and for what? "
Eren's scowl deepened a fraction though his ears burned when she grew impatient and decided to manually adjust his posture. Her hands were surprisingly gentle and, judging from the finger she hooked under his chin to raise his head a fraction, quite soft.
Nodding to herself when she was seemingly satisfied with his posture, she'd took a step closer to him, grabbing his wrists.
" What are— " he blurted out, startled by how close she suddenly was to him. She was only a couple of centimeters taller than him and that meant their faces were very, very close to each other. Eren didn't think his face had ever been so close to a "— oof! "
A hand met his stomach for the second time that evening. This time his own. His other hand found a home on his sternum.
" Breathe in through your nose. Feel the air move from your nose to your abdomen— " she instructed in a short-tone as she took a step back "— feel it expand into your stomach, into the sides of your waist. You should feel it in your core. The hand on your stomach should be the only one moving. If the one on your chest is moving more than a tiny amount, you've fucked up. "
Eren followed along as instructed the best he could. It took him a few breaths before he really got the hang of it.
" Okay, now this time, when you exhale, do it through your mouth. Feel your stomach contracting. Concentrate. "
The green eyed boy nodded thoughtfully, concentrating on his breath, exhaling with a low long 'tsk'. The heel of her palm slammed into his stomach once more but this time he barely even flinched. Mikoto nodded.
" Congratulations on learning how to breathe. " The redhead clapped sarcastically.
In any other situation, Eren would've snapped back at her and all three of them knew it but with another deep diaphragmic breath, his temper simmered down as a kernel of hope bloomed in his chest.
" This is what you do? With this I'll stay upright? " Mikoto hummed, shrugging.
" This is a little tiny baby step towards what I do... but it should improve your core stability and lessen your energy expenditure at the very least. " As if sensing both of the boys were going to ask more questions of her, she powered on.
" Before you go all 'teach me, teach me' I'll have you know it takes much longer than you can accomplish in a single night. You've only been doing that for, what, three minutes? And look— " she jerked her chin towards him, taking note of his shoulders rising "— you're back to your old ways. I breathe like that constantly. When I run, when I eat, when I sleep. It's second nature. "
With every word that fell from her lips, Eren grew more and more desolate.
" But so as long as I do it, I'll stay upright, right? " He only had to do it for ten minutes. Ten. He'd work all night to perfect breathing if it would get him through. If he could become a soldier. Mikoto pursed her lips but nodded.
" As long as your heads in the right place, sure. " Rolling her eyes (for the umpteenth time) at the blank look on his face. " It's not just about physical aptitude. It's your mental one too. Get caught up in all the technicalities and you're going to fall flat on your face... again. You've got some kind of conviction that led you to enlist, yes? "
Eren thought about just about everyone else was training just to go hide in the Interior. He thought about that day. He thought about how he never wanted to feel that fear again. He wanted to be free.
" Yes. "
" Then that's your weapon, " she stated simply. Jerking her neck to the side (the sound of the cracking horrified Armin) she brushed past the boys, obviously deciding that she was no longer had interest in the conversation.
Watching the redhead sauteer off lazily with her hands in her pockets, Eren wondered—
" Why... Why'd you help me for? "
She paused.
For a moment, neither boy thought she would answer when she scoffed lightly. Looking over her shoulder she shrugged with a careless smirk.
" Who knows? " Mikoto drawled.
Rolling shoulders and looking forward once more, she threw a lazy hand up in parting; heading off on her merry way. Before she could take so much as another step he cried out again.
" Tomorrow...! I'll do it! I'll stay upright so watch me! "
She didn't turn that time but a little huff of laughter was all he needed to know she heard him.
—
As if to increase the pressure on Eren, the Commandant had gotten everyone to watch as the green-eyed boy attempted his final attempt at balancing on the wires.
Trembling in the slightest the fateful moments the hooks were secured to his belt, his eyes darted across those in the crowd frantically. Mikasa looked calm. Armin concerned. Several others looked smug. Most were bored.
And then his eyes settled on the tall girl with the crimson hair.
Mikoto looked like she would've much rather been in bed as she used a hand to lazy block her the sun from her eyes. The confident tilt of her chin was visible even from her place at the very back of the crowd, as was her aura of complete self-assuredness. Her lips were curled into a little half-smirk, like she knew something no one else did, and her eyes were— she was looking straight at him.
He'd been observing her so long and so intently that he didn't even realize it when her eyes met his. Raising a brow, she tilted her head to a side as all the blood in face rushed to his ears in embarrassment. Her shoulders quivered with a barely concealed chuckle before her mouth moved forming a word: Con-cen-trate.
Concentrate.
She had said that to him the night before.
Conviction.
That had been another thing she'd said.
Eren was stricken with realization as they slowly lifted him into the air. That's right. He had the most conviction out of anyone else there— probably of anyone alive. He might not be naturally talented and he might not have any outstanding qualities but he had more purpose in his pinky than most had in their entire being.
He was there to kill all the Titans, and he wasn't going to leave the Cadet Corps unless it was to graduate into the Survey Corps. That was his conviction.
That was his weapon.
For a few moments, he hung completely still, on sheer willpower alone.
Then, he felt it. The wires twisted and something clicked as he began to wobble. Whatever it was seemed to give under his weight as he fell forward, making an unstoppable revolution until he hung upside down, writhing. From behind him, Commandant Shadis approached.
" Let him down, " he ordered. No!
" I... I can still..! " Eren began to protest.
" Wagner, " the Commandant interrupted. " Give Jaeger your belt. " Huh?
Switching the belts out, he trembled as he pulled up once again and this time... this time...!
He remained upright.
" The metal fillings of your belt were rusty, " Shadis explained after an examination of his belt. " I've never seen this part rust before. We'll have to add it to a list of things that need to be inspected. "
" So...! What's your decision...?! " Eren asked desperately, still hung mid-air. The Commandant fixed him a look, one that he could not really place. Then—
" Train hard. "
He pumped his fist into the air as his eyes searched once more, catching sight of a single figure clapping slowly at the very back of the cheering crowd.
Are you watching me?!