You kicked out multiple viewers from the seats on the second floor, looking over the balcony. You'd thought that they may have attempted to fight you for them, but one glance at the pure temper and adrenaline simmering on the auras projected by your friends somehow convinced them otherwise.
"I don't want to be here," Marco whispered, and made to get up – but with a ruthless glance at Isabel, the red-haired girl snatched at his sleeve and jolted him to a halt.
"You can't leave," you said, sitting down and making sure that at least all of the judges had looked up at your crew at least once.
"Jean's spotted you," Isabel breathed in his ear, her green eyes glimmering. "You can't abandon him here. Stay for his trial."
You leaned irreverently over the railing, Connie biting his lip as Petra prompted him to sit next to you. "You're a sadist," Connie said. "Leaving Jean here to suffer as a criminal is one thing, Y/N, but making us watch as he gets sentenced to it? That's cruel."
Jean had indeed clocked all of you. He wasn't looking spectacular – not that he ever truly did. His square jaw was dusted in bruises, and his lip had been cut by a shoddily thrown punch. But his eyes were dry as he raised them to roam the silhouettes of your crew, snagging on Marco's as the dark-haired boy was dragged into a seat beside Isabel.
The disturbance caused by your arrival was quietened by the head judge, who looked like he was trying very hard to not be caught glancing up to you. A court visit by the Ruler herself – the pressure was on. And when things were put under pressure, you mused, they would buckle.
Or they'd break the thing pressuring them.
That's what you were all here to find out – which would break first. The judges and the law system, or the rules made by you and Team Gluttony.
"Back to the case at hand," the judge said, his tone frosty, "do you deny falsifying records?"
"Yes," Jean said, without preamble. He leaned forwards, and the dim light of the candles caught the sheen of sweat on his brow. "I didn't falsify anything – the sources of food are appalling! The food isn't safe!"
"But you are not who you claimed to be," the judge interrupted, leaning back – the picture of satisfied elegance, if you could imagine him without the ugly chin. "Bring a copy of the book of laws, please."
You raised an eyebrow as Jean shot a look up at you. His face fell.
The book was carried in by three guards in the old breed of armour – the iron clinking as they moved, bringing in a leather-bound book that looked far too old to exist. The judge and the book deserved each other, you thought. The crowd of viewing people leaned forwards, holding their breath as the judge flipped his way through the pages, his eyes winking behind his glasses. The mission you'd given Connie yesterday must have worked out, if there were this many people here. Indeed, the small group of elderly people that must have been regularly present in court sessions were looking rather confused at the sudden population of seats, clearly wondering why on earth a mere boy of Y/A years old was so entirely dangerous.
"It says here that falsifying any records of any origin, be it name, merchandise or of economical nature, should indeed suffer the appropriate punishment listed under the section of imprisonment," the judge read, his voice triumphant.
"Imprisonment?" Jean repeated, his voice pitiful in comparison.
"The duration of which shall be decided on the jury of people," the judge continued, looking less pleased. The jury of people looked stunned – which wasn't surprising. Court cases ordinarily did not rely on them – the punishment was usually decided on by the judge.
Connie let out a strangled breath as the jury fell into chatter, not even bothering to give Jean a second glance. To his credit, Jean didn't look up at you again. He stayed glaring at the floor, his knuckles white from where they were clenched at his sides.
"They're going to do it harshly," Connie said. "They're going to want to do it harshly. This is the first time they have power. Please tell me that you paid them off."
"Judges would have been easier to bribe," you murmured, softly. "An entire jury of people is chosen at random, and on the day of the court. It's impossible to bribe all of them."
The jury stood, signalling their decision. "For crimes befalling the people of this city," they began, and you stopped listening. You schooled your features to become blank, irreverent. Anyone looking up at you and your crew would think that you truly didn't care.
Good.
The court began whispered, and you realized that you hadn't heard his final sentence.
"How long?" You breathed, to Connie.
"Twenty years," Connie replied with equal softness – although it was more damning. "This is ridiculous, Y/N, we cannot leave him here for a minute longer, let alone twenty years."
The judge was all too happy to bring down his hammer and have his guards lead Jean away, who had turned a rather ashen grey. Eren was the first to stand, twisting his body to you as he opened his mouth – about to yell. You shot a glare at Armin, who hurriedly shut him up.
"Let's go," you said, tersely. "All of you, right now, follow me."
You stalked out, linking arms forcefully with Connie so that you were practically dragging him along with you – harshly, but you couldn't afford to let him rip himself free and run himself into the jail that Jean was being taken to. Your crew were silent behind you – but they were all following.
Using all of the knowledge about shortcuts and the longer routes that Levi had taught you over the past few days, you led your team on the longest route back to the entrance of the Underground that you could manage, ensuring that you circled back many times throughout.
Levi didn't question you – but you knew he wasn't happy.
As you reached the main square, your friends had just about had enough. "What the hell was that?" Isabel snarled. "Was that part of your plan?"
"For Jean to get twenty years in jail?" You snapped back, twisting your hands. "No, Isabel, it wasn't."
"What the hell are you going to do about it?" Connie joined in, finally ripping himself free. "You got him in there in the first place – it's your job to get him out."
"I asked you all how you felt about being thrown in jail," you said, allowing a trace of condescending attitude to imbed itself in your tone. "He was the only one who answered that he'd like to."
"He was joking, you prat," Sasha said, raising her hand.
You nodded, glancing deliberately to the right. Sasha didn't follow your eyes, but Levi and Petra did – their eyes catching onto what you were looking at and understanding what you were doing. Relief flooded Petra's face, and she started to smile before catching herself at the last second and following Levi's impartial notation.
"I can't believe he's in jail," Petra started to say, looping her arm through Gunther's and tugging him to look at her – looking deliberately to your right so that he'd follow her gaze. "I didn't expect anything to do with this."
"We can't do anything," Levi agreed, crossing his arms and glaring down at the floor. "The brat's in jail, I can't be bothered to do anything about it either."
Isabel caught on then – and Armin followed.
Slowly, they were realizing that guards were nearby – and a specific patrol following you, very close to your right, having followed you from the courthouse, and listening very closely to you all. When you all gathered by the entrance and assumed various woeful positions, they began to lose interest.
And then they were summoned by an emergency bell – stating that there was an urgent need for back up in the southern part of the Underground, and for every guard and soldier to bring their gear. You hadn't anticipated that they'd summon every guard apart from the mere ones manning the entrance station, but they had.
"The soldiers underground are cowards," you said. It was the worst insult you could give them.
"They're really bad at maintaining security at the jail, too," Mikasa said as she walked closer with two hooded figures in tow. You knew that she'd only taken off her own hood because of the lack of guards around, them having rushed to the site of the titans. "It's mad."
You smiled at the final piece of the puzzle as Jean and Christa lowered their hoods and smiled at you all. "Nice to see you," you grinned fiercely at Jean, hoping the tears collecting in your eyes would not overflow. The brown-haired male grinned just as savagely back, and he raised his fist. You met it with one of your own, the brief contact telling you that he, at least, had no doubt that you'd never leave without him. You turned to the rest of your party, not being able to resist your chin raising a few centimetres in an action of insufferable pride.
Marco took one step forward, as if in a trance. He then flung himself at Jean, who could barely prepare himself fast enough so that when Marco's body hit his own, they did not tumble into the dirt. You only saw the pale, freckled face as it peaked over Jean's shoulder, looking at you with shining eyes.
"You got him back," he said, his voice steady despite the heaving of his chest.
You swallowed. "You thought that I would leave one of my own in the dark."
Eren swaggered forward, hitting Jean on the shoulder and coming to stand beside you. "Nice job," he muttered to you, his hand briefly touching your elbow before he squared up against Isabel, who had been eyeing the ground sheepishly.
"I know," she said, rolling her eyes at the jade-eyed male. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you," she said to you, her tone creeping into a more apologetic stance. "I'm sorry for thinking that you would leave him, but –"
"It's tempting to leave Jean to rot in jail, I know," you finished. You stuck your tongue out at said male before turning to Isabel. "But I would not leave someone in a dungeon willingly. I put hours into thinking things through, and you think I would do anything as stupid as putting my own friend into prison? As if."
Your friends all had the good graces to look ashamed of themselves. Jean raised his eyebrow, his arms still around Marco. He met the eyes of Eren and smirked at him, who just inclined his head back. You took a breath, reaching into the satchel at your side and withdrawing the passes. You handed them out, each person gripping their respective passes tightly. They all knew just how much everything had been to get these.
"So how did they get Jean out?" Isabel asked as you passed hers to her.
"That man we stole the wallet from was a guy who dealt in freeing thugs from jail. He had an address of a house that had a tunnel in the basement leading right to it," Mikasa supplied. "Whilst Christa and I were supposedly leading the guards around in a wild goose chase, we were at the house, preparing on collapsing the tunnel once we'd gotten Jean through."
"You collapsed the tunnel?" Eld repeated, his hands shaking as he reached for a pass.
"I don't want any more criminals getting out from now on," you answered. "They sentenced Jean harshly in front of a crowd – that means they've accepted the new laws without questioning whether they'd been changed. Any time that my children need a distraction, they have the hair dye to distract the guards with the same beauties that we've used. And, of course, now that Jean's escaped – they'll be tightening security at the jail."
"New laws, check. New leader, check. New food system and jobs, check," Petra listed off, counting it on her fingers. "Nicely done."
"I thank you," you said, inclining your head at her. "I needed Jean to be a scapegoat. They can't even say that we broke him out, because several eye witnesses saw us nowhere near the courthouse after we left – we just walked to the entrance. There's no way to connect any of this to us anymore."
Isabel smiled, and bumped fists with you.
You led your mismatched team towards the doors of freedom, ready to see sunlight and this time, face it. You could not deny that when you'd arrived here three weeks ago, it was because you had been running away.
But you had many more things now.
Another title to be used. Your friends, their loyalty earned once again.
You were still going to run – but not away from anything. Instead, you were going to run towards things.
Y/N L/N had done all that she'd set out to do in the dark of the underground.
Exterminate all titans.
Establish a new, better society.
Become a figurehead.
All three completed and done within three weeks – one week for each task. But you'd done far more than what you'd originally planned. You'd been planning to use the children as you'd used your friends, ordering them into teams in order to get what they all desperately needed. But all things considered, you were infinitely glad that your friends were the ones that had appeared.
Because you'd earned their loyalty for the umpteenth time now, had won it through your own wits and persona and position. You'd won their friendship back. They were now unspeakably yours, just as you were theirs, through and through.
Petra brushed your arm as she strode past, shooting a wink at you as she linked arms with Eld and Gunther. She hadn't let on that she'd missed them the week that you'd had her placed in a different team – but there she was, bathing in the necessity of touch with her comrades. You noticed how she made an effort to stay firmly away from Levi, walking next to Isabel.
Petra Ral. You smiled at her back, unable to stop the reaction. She was just another woman stuck in a world where she was going to fight tooth and nail to do some good. Who knew that you could have been so utterly, totally wrong about a single person? She was yours now, too. You knew without doubt that she was one of your most steadfast allies here – for who among you would have the strength to do as she'd done? Hatred was no easy burden to bear – especially not to a person who cared more deeply than she let on.
Your heart couldn't help but sink at the sight of her bare ring finger, though. You remembered how bright her smile had been when she'd put it on, how clean and sparkling the ring itself had been – as if she kept it polished and well cared for, despite not wearing it. How radiant a bride she would be, with those eyes and the love that was in every expression.
Your thoughts stuttered.
You shook your head, putting aside those emotions. There would come a time where you'd allow yourself to feel things and sort through them. A world where the odds were still stacked against you was not soon going to give you that time.
But it didn't matter, you realized.
Not as you spotted how Marco was still gripping Jean's hand, tightly enough that you could see the tips of Jean's fingers going pale. How you saw Connie shooting you idle smiles that were, you supposed, his carefree version of an apology. As you watched Eren wink and banter with Mikasa and Armin, the latter two looking more at ease than you'd seen in a while.
As long as there were little moments like these, the future of worry and stress did not seem as daunting as it would have done.
Your party reached the guard house, and silence fell. You stepped forwards, presenting your pass to one of the twenty guards waiting nearby, and smiled charmingly. "I think it's time for us to see the sun again," you said, shrugging in an unspoken gesture of violence, making sure that your knives clinked at their belt. Behind you, you could almost feel your group drawing themselves up and smiling like hellions.
Naturally, with all of them being utter messes and their weapons recently bloodied, it did not take long for the guard to look through all the passes and jerk his head towards the door. A favour, you realized. He was doing all of you a favour and not looking too closely, lest he drew attention to the shoddily dyed hair of Mikasa and Christa. A favour for the help you'd given his comrades, maybe even a few of his friends, as you'd help them fight their way out of the festering pit of titans hidden in plain sight.
The guard didn't know that it was your crew that had led them all there, but none of you were feeling inclined enough to reveal that to any of the guards on duty. Instead, you all trooped towards the stairs.
You allowed everyone else to go first.
Isabel and Levi took the lead, not even sparing a farewell glance to the city that they'd both braved facing again for your sake. The odd friendship between Petra, Connie and Armin followed next, as well as the wary eyes of Eld and Gunther. You tried not to smirk at the rolling of eyes, the easy flowing speech that was between them all. Odd ties, but still connections.
The rest filed through pretty much as a bulk. Christa couldn't seem to wait to get back to the light, her now-brown hair drawn back from her face. Eren and Jean were laughing now, talking about the lack of carpets – for whatever reason – and Ymir closed the group, giving you a frank assessing look before striding to catch up with Christa.
You wished you knew what was behind that look. You'd seen the odd companionship the girl had struck with Olyver, the freedom she'd felt in working alongside him. Perhaps she disliked the fact that whilst you were all prepared to walk back into the sunshine of the world above, he was staying below.
There was no guilt, which surprised you more. You'd tried to work around it all – leaving Olyver in the darkness. But the fact remained – the fact that the children needed someone to lead them into a brighter future, the fact that as Ruler, you needed someone down here to help you pass information to and from the Underground.
Olyver had been that someone, from the moment you'd broken him out of jail and claimed that life debt he owed you.
He was a shit thief, a slightly better cleaner – but now you were evaluating his worth as a friend.
With that, you almost didn't allow yourself to look around the city. But your eyes were darting around before you could shut the door to the pit that you'd done your best to make better.
You only saw the flash of a dark cloak at the end of the street, but that had been the only movement. The wearer had wanted you to see him, mark him. Everyone else was either yelling at the courthouse or trying to find the two girls in the south.
You didn't give Kenny Ackerman the pleasure of knowing that he'd unsettled you, that he'd guessed enough of your plan to know that you and your team would be exiting the Underground at this exact moment. So instead, you flipped a vulgar gesture in the direction that he'd gone, making a few of the puzzled guards choke, and firmly shut the door behind you. The laughter of your friends above spurred you on, a few of them looking back with pleased grins to see where you'd gone.
You smiled back at them, the faces of those people who you'd claimed.
Y/N L/N arose from the unending dark, ready to do what more needed to be done.