As we stood there in shock, watching Mikasa's hysterics, pain began lacing its way back into my consciousness.
Oh, yeah. My ankles.
In one second, the pain roared back to life, and I was forced to my knees, teeth gritted. Jean turned to me.
"You alright, mate?"
"I'm fine, Horse-Face."
Jean glared at me skeptically. "You don't look fine."
"I'm fi-"
The pain screamed again, and I clenched my fists until my nails sank into my palms.
Jean hefted me to my feet. Reiner noticed and they both lead me away.
"Guys, come on," I moaned, "It's fine. I'm not in any pain."
I winced as I said this.
"Shut up, Larsson," Reiner said, "You're clearly in need of professional medical attention."
"Darn it, Reiner," I said.
Chaos met us the minute we were inside. Kitz Weilman was hoarsely screaming to his soldiers, ordering them outside to arrest the monster, and to stay calm. The irony was hysterical.
Kitz was anything but calm. His eyes were crazed with terror, and his voice was constantly breaking.
"The monster?" I said, "Does he mean Eren?"
"Don't worry about that right now," Reiner said, hefting me into a lift.
We ascended slowly, and the constant jostling caused me to black out before we had even reached the infirmary.
I was in an alleyway, fingers interlaced in my dark hair. The windows of the buildings on either side of me cast a golden glow on the pavement. I pressed against the walls, cringing against the light. The darkness seemed more welcome.
I slid one hand down to the blade by my feet. The more I thought about it, the more logical it seemed. No one needed me. I was just trouble for everyone.
It felt like I was drowning. Suffocating weight squeezed around me, pressing in, tighter and tighter. My breath was coming in pained gasps, and the sound of my exhales seemed distant, as if they came from someone else.
The blade whispered to me.
'Dad said it himself,' I said, 'I shouldn't have been born. I'm nothing.'
My fingers wrapped around the blade. My mind was a whirlpool of disjointed thoughts. The knife traveled up to the place where I needed it. Fragments of my life stabbed me.
The cold blade stung my neck. My hands were shaking.
I had expected to cry when I met death. However, the suffocating pressure twisting around me seemed to have evaporated any moisture that might have been there. I felt like a vast wasteland, numb and void.
The blade pressed deeper, and I gasped at the bite of metal.
I looked up at the stars glinting above me. Their serene twinkles seemed to be mocking me, laughing at the girl in an alley who felt that there was nothing left.
Deeper pressed the blade.
I felt something beginning to seep down my neck. Pain was lacing itself from the wound to the rest of my body.
The knife suddenly dropped to the ground. My blood scarred the blade.
Shaking hands pressed against the wound, my brain only numbly registering the pain. Blood was seeping into my shirt, a dark bloom of mockery, screaming my cowardice.
My knees sank to the ground, taking the rest of my body with it. My hands blindly searched for the knife.
"Igor!"
"Oi, Larrson!"
Someone was slapping my face.
"Oww," I moaned, blinking into the faces of Reiner and Jean.
"You alright, mate? You just passed out."
"I'm fine, Kirstein. It's just my ankles." The flashback clung to me like sweat.
"Naturally," Reiner said. "Do you need to be carried or anything?"
"Ugh, no," I sighed, "I'm fine. I don't need to be carried. I'm not a princess."
"If you insist," Jean said, "Your Majesty."
"For goodness sake, Jean," I shouted, "Shut up."
I shoved him, and he shoved back, causing me to wince.
"Sorry, mate," he hastened.
"Jean, I told you to shut up."
He smiled. "Yes, Your Majesty."
I aimed a slug at him. "You are going to be so sorry when I can walk again."
"I'm sooo scared." He was still smiling.
I aimed another punch at Jean, who dodged it nimbly.
Reiner and Jean lifted me up again, and the lift stopped. We made our way out and reached the infirmary.
The change from an hour earlier was drastic. Before, it had resembled a tomb, silent and devoid of life. Now, the curtains had been drawn back, and medics were swarming like ants. Light filtered through the windows, one of which was broken.
Reiner waved at a medic, who came over. She lead us to a bed and I sat down.
My boots were removed and the medic inspected my ankles.
"Your ankles are sprained," she said, "Not seriously, but still, it was unwise to attempt to walk and stand on your ankles. The damage could have worsened."
"Alright," Jean said, "We need to go, mate, but we'll come back soon."
"Bye," I called after them.
"Farewell, Your Majesty."
"Shut uuuuup!"
The medic looked mildly amused. "Anyway," she said, "You need a few days to rest so that your ankles have the chance to heal."
"A few days?" My stomach wrenched itself into a knot. "But I'm supposed to begin my duties as a soldier!"
"Your duties will have to wait," the medic answered firmly, "You are in no shape to do anything."
I sank back into the bed. I could feel the disappointment latching onto my arms like shackles.
"Just rest," the medic said, her eyes full of pity, "You're one of the lucky ones."
She got up to grab some more supplies, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
That flashback had rattled me. I had hoped never to revisit that moment in my life, and reliving it had caused doubts to begin creeping into the corners of my mind.
As I sank back into the bed, I tried my best to keep more memories away. Snippets flashed across my closed eyelids.
Hansi crumpled on the floor, sobbing.
Dad staggering across a dark room.
My stepmother shrieking, her face inches from mine.
Hansi bleeding.
Blood. Blood everywhere.
"Oi, Larsson."
My eyes flew open at the sound of En's voice.
"Surprised to see me?" he asked.
"Not so much surprised as disappointed to see you whole and unscathed," I said briskly.
En chuckled. "Well, I can't say the same for you."
I rolled my eye. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
"I was just looking around to see where I could help. Know one really knows what the heck is going on."
"Tell me about it."
En crossed his arms. "You alright? Your insults seem unusually pathetic today."
"Probably just because your face is even more unusually pathetic today," I countered.
"Well, you all seem just fine here," En said to the medic who was returning, "I shall offer my services somewhere else."
As he walked away, he turned over his shoulder.
"By the way, that kid you saved. He's safe. He made it onto the boat."
With that, En left, his swagger causing many double-takes as he passed by.
I turned back to the medic, who was slightly pink.
"I'll just stitch up this gash in your leg, and you will be free to rest."
Fabulous.