#soano

“you have to focus!”

“i can’t!”

“well you have to!”

“why don’t you focus for the both of us?”

“how the hell am i supposed to do that?”

“by focusing!”

“i am focused!”

“no you’re not!”

“how did the tables turn so quickly?”

marco sighed, watching as his two friends continued to bicker without getting any actual work done. the trio were sat on the training field, marco sitting on the hard concrete, and jean and you standing on either side of him, yelling obscene words at each other.

the three of you did not need to train at this very moment, for the weekends had arrived, meaning that only half the day would be used for training, and after noon, you were free to do whatever you wanted (aside from breaking any other regulations, of course). however, unlike every other weekend, both marco and jean had decided that they would do some voluntary training in preparation for the upcoming exams coming the following week. you had protested, but certainly not hard enough to convince both of your friends to take the day off with you, so huffing and puffing, you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed to strain more muscles in your body because that was just how miserable you were.

you hadn’t completely forgiven marco for betraying you the other day, and he knew it, for you did not let any of his comments go free without a jab at them: 1. ‘the porridge tastes weird today, huh..’ — ‘weird, like how weird it was when a friend betrays a friend, right?’, 2. ‘i can’t fight without a weapon!’ — ‘but you didn’t have a weapon in your hand when you chose to fight for shadis last week’, 3. ‘jean, it’s not my fault!’ — ‘just like how it wasn’t your fault when i was left helpless in the stables?’, and many, many more occasions.

at first, he would look down in shame, but after it happened for the nth time, he seemed to have gotten immune to the feeling, and merely rolled his eyes at you, smiling all the while. you were not impressed.

but that was a topic for another time.

right now, you needed to focus on your pla— training. your training. you had to focus on your training. your plan for training, really.

although you had been deemed as number ten for the southern division of the 104th cadet corps, that position could change before the final examination. next week, it would be the second to last change, and you knew you had to maintain the pace you were working at (if not slightly harder, seeing as people were beginning to step up their game).

your initial plan was to move up the list, because you knew you could. however, you had realised a little later on that it wasn’t necessary to, for all you needed to do was be in the top ten to reduce the risk of a growing population of future mp’s, and seeing as you were most definitely joining the scout regiment, there was no need for such brutal competition for the higher positions. you were doing just fine at number ten.

so you had to keep it.

but how were you supposed to do that when jean would keep eating your ear off as if it were as tasty as dry hay?

“are you thinking about captain levi again?” snapped jean, both hands placed on his hips. he reminded you of a mother scolding their child.

“no!” you denied, folding your arms over your chest, attempting to ignore the heat crawling up your neck, choosing to rest in your cheeks. it was a hot day today after all, you couldn’t be blamed for how warm you were beginning to feel. “i saw him just last week, there’s no reason for me to be —”

“cut the bullshit y/n,” interrupted jean exasperatedly. “you look like he just proposed to you.”

you grinned.

“stop giving her ideas, jean,” marco groaned from below.

you looked down. he seemed to be picking at the grass, calloused hands seeming to be weakened with the amount of work marco had been putting in for the last couple of days.

“scrap it already,” demanded jean, staring at you firmly. “it’s never gonna happen. he’s the captain of the scouts and you’re — you’re —”

your stare hardened. “i’m what?”

“out of damn control,” he finished, running a hand through his hair. “we’re lucky enough to even be in the top ten, you know that?”

“doesn’t matter to me,” you shrugged mindlessly. “i’m not joining the mp’s.”

jean frowned, his thin brows knitting together as he performed a stretch that would help with the back of his upper arms (one elbow raised whilst the other hand pushes it down his back). “the garrisons would be pretty happy with a cadet who has a high ranking.”

“the scouts, you mean,” you corrected, eyes narrowing.

you watched the way in which his face appeared to be blank for a moment, the hardened gaze he usually held so proudly beginning to falter ever so slightly. the heavy breathing from marco had been halted, too, and you wondered whether he was choosing to hold his breath.

“sure,” jean nodded calmly. you couldn’t help but believe that he still did not seem to approve of your idea. “whatever.”

“i think we should just cut to the chase,” marco calmly added, carrying his weight on his elbows, leaning back to look up at you. he was hiding in your shadow in an attempt to shield himself from the blinding light of the sun. “what’re you planning?”

you blinked, dumbfounded.

“huh?”

“you’re not fooling anyone, y/n,” said marco.

“except, maybe, yourself if you actually think that we haven’t noticed how distracted you’ve been lately,” commented jean, only resulting in you exaggeratedly mimicking him out of spite. he scoffed at your childish act.

“i would tell you guys,” you began truthfully, “but i have trust issues now.”

marco groaned loudly. “i’m sorry, okay? will you let it go already?”

“never,” you stated coldly. “live with regret.”

“how come you don’t bother jean about it? he started it!”

“oh jean’s already learnt his lesson,” you answered smugly. and with a glance at jean, you said, “haven’t you?”

“shut up y/n.”

“watch it,” you warned, “i won’t hesitate to put you back in there.”

“shadis wouldn’t believe you unless you do it like last time,” said jean, lip quirking upwards. “and that would mean you have to be there too.”

you smiled innocently. “so be it.”

jean took a step back to create a larger distance between you two.

“you’re psycho.

“no, i’m y/n.”

“i’m convinced they mean the same thing at this point,” sighed marco, shaking his head tiredly.

“okay, fine, i’ll tell you,” you said, and marco actually sat up in interest expectantly. “but under one condition.” the two boys looked at each other warily. you continued. “you help me with something.”

jean did not waste a single second before he spoke loudly.

“absolutely not,” he protested, shaking his head defiantly. “no way. whatever you’re getting yourself involved in, i’m out.”

you rolled your eyes. “i only need one of you anyway. marco?”

marco hesitated; you smiled. the single hesitation told you that he was actually considering it instead of shutting it down straight away.

jean was aware of this, his light brown eyes darting from you to marco in alarm.

“no, marco’s not doing it either,” he demanded with an air of dominance. he made eye contact with the said boy. “you’re not doing it.”

“who are you, his mother?” you teased, smirking. “he can make decisions for himself.”

“yeah, except when it comes to you.”

“and that’s where you come in?”

“i’m saving him.”

“from what?”

“from you!”

“i pose no danger to him,” you say honestly. “it’s just a small favour.”

“a small favour for something big, i know it.”

you said nothing.

“i’m right, aren’t i?” questioned jean, eyes wide.

“marco,” you say soothingly, choosing to ignore jean and his frantic self, “what do you say? help a girl out?”

marco had a hand over his chin, looking as though he were deciding something life threatening. men are so dramatic, you thought to yourself.

“i don’t know..” he said, causing your patience to thin.

“marco, you’re smarter than this,” that stupid jean intervened, and you felt a tingle in your arm that you knew could be solved if you swung it at his face.

you racked your brains for a small moment, trying to gather ideas of what could persuade your rational friend.

“i’ll forgive you for your betrayal?” you tried convincingly.

“sold.”

“what?” yelled jean, outraged.

you smiled widely, holding a hand out to marco to pull him up. he took it sheepishly, standing up and then shaking it as if you guys had made a wonderful business deal — to you, perhaps it was. you did mean business after all.

“i knew you’d redeem yourself,” you told him excitedly, blocking out jean’s exaggerating arm movements of protest. you had half a mind to tell him how he looked as though he were neighing but decided that this was punishment enough.

marco scratched the back of his head once his hand had been released from your hold.

“so what’s this plan of yours?”

“i need to get into keith’s office,” you revealed calmly; jean looked scandalised.

he turned to marco.

“don’t tell me that’s not risky,” he said sharply. then, he looked back at you, eyebrows raised so far up his head, lines were beginning to form. “and who the fuck are you calling ‘keith’?”

you groaned, slapping your forehead.

“it just keeps slipping out,” you admitted, barely abashed. “never mind that. i have to get something in there.”

“what’re you looking for?” asked marco curiously.

“i don’t really know yet,” you answered.

jean let out a dry laugh.

“definitely not a red flag or anything.”

“can it,” you hissed, eyes narrowed. “i just need to find anything in there that’ll tell me when the captain’s next arrival is. i have to see him again.”

“that’s great and all,” marco began, sounding hesitant once more, “but.. what makes you think that..?”

you raised a brow at him expectantly. the way in which he was searching for words but also leaving his sentence incomplete made you question whether he was expecting you to finish it, to immediately understand whatever he was trying to get at.

“what, marco?”

he rubbed his palms against his jacket, shaking his head rapidly, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch.

deciding to forget whatever he was going to say, jean seemed to have thought the opposite, choosing to complete his friend’s sentence without a single stutter and the upmost confidence.

“what makes you think that the captain wants to see you again?”

you blinked up at him.

“why wouldn’t he want to see me again?” you shot back. “i’m amazing.”

“so amazing that you even have commandant shadis hiding from you?”

“he doesn’t hide from me.”

jean scowled. “the day after your little farting mishap, i saw him use odm when you came out of the mess hall.”

you were beginning to think that perhaps he was right but you were much more stubborn than jean was.

“all of the higher ups use odm,” you tried, shrugging as though it did not matter at all.

“yeah.. when they’re in definite danger. gas and supplies have to be saved at all times, so the fact that he uses it when he sees you near —”

your heart had probably dropped in to your stomach and you felt sick. if you had managed to scare away shadis, what first impression did you leave on your soon-to-be husband? what did he think of you now? a cadet that went haywire? a cadet that is in need of proper discipline? or worse.. a cadet that is unworthy of joining the scout regiment?

the urge to pull your hair out of the roots was only growing bigger and bigger, for the realisation that perhaps he was even considering banning you from joining the scouts and reuniting with your partner in crime (erwin) had just become more notable to you.

no, that can’t be possible, a voice in your head spoke, erwin would put in a good word for you, right? … right?

and now a sense of dread filled you from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes.

instead of deterring you from your plan, your friends seemed to have accidentally got you determined to complete the plan at more urgency than before.

“well then the plan has to happen today,” you declared, determined.

jean’s face resembled one of trauma.

“what? no, that’s not what i —”

“scrap that,” you re-decided, ignoring the way jean’s shoulders had dropped as though a weight had been lifted off of them, “the plan has to happen right now.”

he looked more alarmed than ever.

“no!”

“where’s keith right now?” you asked marco, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “is he on duty?”

“i don’t know his schedule,” marco responded nervously. “i thought you would. hey, why are we doing this right now?”

“because i just realised i need to make a new first impression,” you answered confidently. “he probably wants nothing to do with me, i have to see him and prepare a plan b.”

“just.. why?” groaned jean, rubbing his hands over his face exhaustedly.

you glared at him.

“all married couples have arguments like this, we’re just in the middle of one,” you told him wisely. “stay out of it, jean.”

“trust me, i will.”

a headache beginning to form, you turned around, a hand placed just over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun for a better view of the mess hall from afar. you wondered whether keith would be inside there, frightening the cadets as they wolfed down their breakfast. the only way, you concluded, that you would be able to see if his office was free or not was to walk by it, slyly shaking the door knob to see whether it was locked or not. and seeing as keith was trying his best to avoid you, if he did encounter you, it’s less likely that he would reprimand you in comparison to how likely it would be that he merely ignores your presence and runs away.

you clapped your hands together, ignoring the way both jean and marco jumped ever so slightly at the impact of your palms meeting.

“i know what i have to do,” you stated proudly, eyeing marco. “what we have to do.”

“marco,” jean called out warningly.

“jean, do not make me get you a family reunion,” you threatened honestly. “believe it or not, i really don’t want to —”

“please stop arguing,” sighed marco, standing between the two of you as a peacemaker. “please?”

you smiled innocently, gazing up at jean’s chocolate-brown eyes in victory; he did not return the gesture, opting to glare daggers at you instead. victory truly was sweet, because no matter how many times jean tried now, marco was still part of your plan out of his own free will — nothing to do with you of course.

“i have to check keith’s office,” you told them, specifically marco, calmly.

“commandant shadis,” corrected jean bitterly. “before you go around telling everyone i told you to call him that.”

“it happened six days ago, get over it,” you dismissed him bluntly. “now, i just need to go over there and get inside. you have to cover me.”

marco looked you up and down before sharing his thoughts with you.

“not to be cocky or anything,” he started, scratching the back of his head with a brow raised, “but with how short you are, i don’t think you even need me for that.”

“not just physically,” you said, flicking his forehead at his stupidity. “if keith comes over, then you have to talk to him, bring up some sort of conversation.”

“won’t he get suspicious?”

you laughed.

“marco, you of all people don’t have to worry about that.”

“that’s not what he meant,” added jean, rolling his eyes at you. “shadis will think something’s up ‘cause, for some stupid reason, we’re friends with you. he’ll know you’re up to something and that you’re using marco to do it.”

although it was a good point, you knew that this part of the plan would be the least of your worries.

“keith’s not that smart,” you countered, sounding as sure as you felt. “if he was, the countless other stuff that i’ve done in the three years that i’ve been here wouldn’t have happened under his watch. just trust me on this.”

jean did not seem convinced, but marco looked worse. it would be more helpful if jean was helping out, but seeing as he was so fucking stubborn on his decision, you knew he couldn’t be moved and you would rather die than admit that his help was very much needed. it didn’t matter as much that he was not persuaded, so long as marco was, you would be fine, but that was the problem: he wasn’t.

“if we get caught — which we won’t — i’ll take the blame,” you reassured, but that only made marco’s frown deepen.

“what? no, that wouldn’t be fair at all —”

you’d had enough.

“marco, if you don’t shut the fudge up and just let me take the lead, i will slap you.”

sheepishly, he smiled.

“i guess i deserved that,” he mumbled. “i’ll do it.”

you beamed. “wonderful! let’s go now.”

you turned away, feeling a swell of pride bloom in your chest. this was one out of the many failed attempts that you had managed to successfully corrupt marco bott, and jean was not able to prevent it like he usually could.

“n-now?” you heard marco stutter.

“no, tomorrow afternoon.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you intertwined your fingers together behind your back, walking along the corridors lightened up by the sun through the windows with ease, trying your best to look as though you were not up to anything.

it was difficult, though.

on several occasions, people looked back at you with curiosity, grinning behind their hands as they whispered amongst themselves something that, no doubt, had to do with you. once or twice you heard the very words ‘what’s she doing now?’ when you waited by the window sill, carefully watching marco run around the field keeping an eye out for keith.

at long last, marco turned around and looked up, waving frantically to grab your attention and then presenting to you two thumbs up, letting you know that the beast (keith) had been spotted and the plan was to commence.

adrenaline running through your veins like a marathon runner, you hurriedly walked over to the door, walking up and down the corridor once.. twice.. three times before standing in front of his office, hands behind your back as you clasped the cool door knob.

you pushed your head forwards and looked left and right before movement had been caught to your attention: ready to explain yourself, you noticed that it was a false alarm, that keith was still outside somewhere with marco covering you. instead, the very people not far down the corridor were three you knew all too well: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, and armin arlert.

sighing in relief, you violently shook the knob not realising how old the door must have been, because it made a loud clattering noise so that the three that were walking away from you were now forced to look over their shoulders and identify what (or rather who) was making such a racket.

it didn’t matter that mikasa’s dark eyes were piercing directly into yours in mild peculiarity, nor did it matter that eren was now intrigued with whatever the hell you were doing — judging by the way he opted to step back and regard you with a raised eyebrow.

“what’re you doing?” he asked, when you had silently cheered because of the creak of the door opening. “why are you outside the commandant’s office?”

if this kid wasn’t so damn nosy all the time, you thought to yourself, taking a step back into the office.

“i’m waiting for him,” you lied quickly. “er — be on your way now.”

eren’s brows were beginning to furrow. ah shoot, you cursed in your head, forgot he has anger issues.

“sorry,” you apologised, eyeing mikasa for help. you knew she also felt that eren stuck his nose in business that was not his. “i just have something to do.”

“like farting in the commandant’s office?” armin perked up.

at first, you thought he was spiting you, but when you actually stared at him, you realised that he was drop dead serious, a question with no malicious intent behind it. besides, it was armin, armin who never caused any trouble, armin who was almost as innocent as marco. his cheeks turned pink when he got no response from you, so you hurried to correct him.

“no,” you scowled, barely abashed. “i didn’t do it on purpose —”

“why didn’t you just hold it in?” asked eren, shrugging.

armin nodded in agreement. “yeah, you couldn’t have gotten in trouble if you did. was it really that bad?”

“i —”

“commandant shadis looks distressed nowadays,” mikasa commented coolly. “is it because of you?”

“it was a fart, it’s super unhealthy if you hold — wait.. why am i even explaining myself to you?”

you became wary of the little time you had left in your hands, majority of it used up because of eren’s stupid inquisitiveness.

“i have business to attend to!” you stated, frustrated.

and with that, you shut the door in their faces, exhaling in annoyance.

only for you to open the door once more and find them standing there, bewildered and blank faced.

“if anyone asks, you didn’t see me here,” you said, slamming the door again.

you could have sworn your heard armin question whether you were up to something or not and whether this meant that it’d be joint enterprise because they were at the scene. yep, you thought dryly, as innocent as marco.

shaking the thought away, you began to get to work, all but sprinting to his desk in search for papers, notes, anything that would alert you of the captain’s next arrival. there was no luck at all, all the sheets on his desk were merely random forms for god-knows-what. you did, however, notice a small change to the room in comparison to your last visit: there were several candles around the room even though the lamp was still working (you had checked just to be sure). it was after a more thorough examination (where you brought the candle up to eye level) did you realise that it was scented. what smell was he trying to get rid of by using scented candles?

you shrugged, lord knew at this point, because you surely didn’t.

you began to grow more irked with your constant failure at every attempt on searching for anything that would hint at the captain’s next arrival, before you grew intrigued by a thin sheet underneath one of the lit up candles.

interested, you dashed forwards, lifting the candle and taking the note underneath it. hands shaky, your eyes scanned the messy scrawl you noticed to be keith’s handwriting before nearly squealing in excitement, feeling the same rush of exhilaration you usually felt when flying through the trees using odm. the note read: ‘higher ups expected to help with the examinations for the 104th cadets next week’.

and that was all the information you needed before bolting out of the room, passing keith who paused, stared at you, and then sighed, shaking his head as he walked away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

today was a good day. the day after was even better. and the day after that was brilliantly excellent.

even the during mandatory training session, you had managed to out-do annie in hand-to-hand combat, and when she stood back up after taking a particularly hard beat down from you, she regarded you with a nod, which was much more recognition she gave to anyone ever.

“do i even want to know what’s got you in such a disgusting mood?” keith had the audacity to ask that day, reluctantly ticking something on the paper that was pressed against the clipboard in his hands. you had a very strong feeling it had something to do with your training progress.

“i’d be happy to explain,” you lied, sending him a smile that was all too fake.

the commandant walked away from you, grunting. “please don’t.”

you raised your middle finger at him as he marched over to mikasa next.

by that point, both jean and marco had made it to your side, all of you collectively watching as keith nodded to the dark haired girl, praising her silently with his eyes.

“think he noticed?” questioned jean, leaning in to your side to speak in a low voice.

“he’s daft,” you assured, mainly for marco’s comfort — who was standing on your right shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “hasn’t suspected a thing.”

“good,” voiced jean sourly. “you know what we — i mean — marco had to go through trying to speak to him? it was hell.”

you looked up at him skeptically. “so why are you so pissed?”

jean took this accusation to heart.

“i’m not!”

“okay.”

“but i’m not!”

“fine.”

“i don’t know what made you think —”

“jean, shut the frick up,” you sighed, clueless as to why he was getting so defensive. you raised a brow at marco, who shrugged at your friend’s odd behaviour.

but jean, instead of continuing to act in such a weird manner, opted to glance at you in disgust, looking you up and down and returning to his usual argumentative personality. you scowled at him, tilting your head up to address him directly.

“what?” you vocalised accusingly.

“it wouldn’t kill you to swear, y’know.”

“what’s it to you?” you interrogated defensively. “honestly jean, keep your flipping mouth shut.”

“on a better note,” started marco, very obviously changing the conversation, “your training has gotten so much better, y/n. had a change of heart?”

you looked away from jean, watching as your fellow classmates continued battling each other with desperation. as keith moved around the different pairs, you noticed how every time he got close to one of them, they would immediately fix their posture and fight as if their lives depended on it. it seemed as though people were really taking it serious from here on out, but it made your stomach flip uncomfortably. as much as you would love to join the scouts, this was only a scarce reminder that the three years you spent with all these people would be long gone and (possibly) forgotten, too.

“no,” you answered truthfully, releasing a tired breath. “i just feel good. and humble me real quick because it’s only hand-to-hand combat. i’m the best at that.”

“won’t help you much if you plan on fighting titans,” mumbled jean.

you chose to ignore his comment, clearly made to prove to you how the scout regiment is not where you should be going.

still, that didn’t stop you from stepping on his foot and relishing in the feeling of triumph when his face turned a nasty shade of blue; you grinned nonetheless.

the day after that was when it was real competition. the second you woke from your long, recharging sleep, you noticed how the bed across you (usually occupied by sasha) was made neatly and looked as if it hadn’t been slept in. this was an odd occurrence because you knew sasha very well, and you also knew her to be up only moments after you for breakfast — which you sometimes skipped to join jean and marco in their early morning training (begrudgingly, of course).

when you walked along the corridors to make you way to the boys’ barracks, people were putting their heads together to whisper in hushed voices, looking all too stressed with dark bags underneath their reddened eyes. their nerves were beginning to make yours become more existent. had they lost sleep over this? but you hadn’t, so what did that say about you?

palms tingling, you ignored the sign besides the entrance to the boys’ barracks stating (in bold) ‘no girls allowed’. you weren’t even sure whether the higher ups put it there or if one of the former cadets did. either way, you had ignored it on your first day in the training corps (and had several pillows thrown at you) and will continue to ignore it till your last day; it was tradition now.

and with that, you reached the fourth door down to the left of the corridor, one that you had memorised after taking this path for three years straight without fail. where you used to receive grimaces at your appearance in this area of the building by the boys who resided here, you now no longer get a second glance, as if you had become the exception to the words in bold. funny, you thought, as you entered their room without knocking, because you remembered the odd glances krista had gotten when she (bless her soul) was helping patch thomas wagner up after a particularly rough day of training.

you didn’t get to breathe a single bit of sweat and whatever else their stinky room smelt of before your face was met with the soft impact of a pillow mashing against your nose. hand tightened on the door knob you hadn’t let go of yet, you opened your eyes — when had you closed them? — and frowned at your attacker: jean was sitting upright on the bottom bunk of his bed, glaring at you as if you had betrayed him in some way (the irony).

“wow,” you spoke dryly, “that hurt.”

“learn to knock, woman!”

“i called it,” you heard marco sigh from the other end of the small room.

you raised a brow at him.

“your arrival,” he clarified helpfully. unlike jean, marco was not completely dressed, still taking his time with the straps on his chest. “i predicted it.”

you shut the door behind you, leaning against the cool wood. “congratulations buddy. want a reward?”

marco, to your surprise, actually nodded.

“not exactly,” he answered, and then turned around to reveal his back side where the straps had not been tied properly. “just a little help if you don’t mind.”

you said nothing as you helped him out, stepping forward without hesitation. ever the smartest one of you all, jean had decided that your compliance and lack of energy meant something was wrong, whether for you or for them, he had no clue, and took great care in demanding answers from you.

“thought you’d be excited for today,” he snapped after you carefully placed his pillow on his bed rather than choosing to smother him with it. he narrowed his eyes at you. “what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing,” you shrugged.

“bullshit.”

“hey, if she’s behaving, that’s all we’ve ever wanted,” intervened marco brightly. he stood beside you, smiling, and you noticed that the proximity between you was so little, you could count each freckle dotted on his cheeks if you so wished. “i don’t think we should be questioning it.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?” you voiced defensively.

jean sat up in a way that looked as though he was expecting something.. almost hopeful you’d let out a certain reaction to confirm his theories. luckily for him, you did not have the energy to annoy them like you usually did, and so you had no choice but to resort to a more calm response (which was notably very much unlike you).

“whatever,” you sighed, tired.

his eyebrows rose up so that there were lines on his forehead.

“wha—”

“when are we leaving for breakfast?” you asked neutrally.

jean’s head swivelled to face marco, who was looking mildly impressed.

“you’re not gonna question her behaviour?” he demanded, staring at the dark haired boy in outrage. “why’s she acting like this?” he glared at you. “why are you acting like this?”

you blinked. “do you want me to hit you?”

“maybe it’s the stress for the exams,” marco innocently suggested.

at that, jean did not waste any time in demonstrating how wrong he felt that answer was. bursting out in fits of laughter with a hand draped over his lower abdomen and his other hand pointed at their freckled friend, jean practically choked on his own spit. you scowled.

“all right man, it’s not that funny.”

“her? stressed for the exams?” he managed to breathe out, unnecessarily slapping his knee at the thought. you hoped he would injure himself sooner or later. “have i ever told you how funny you are, marco?”

marco scratched the back of his head, shrugging instead of choosing to reply. obviously jean had not, but nobody was going to voice that out loud.

truthfully, it wasn’t exactly the stress of the exams that had got you in such a lazy mood, but rather the fact that your husband — hang on, time to be serious — your crush was going to be present, and you had spent no time attempting to better your scores like everyone else had been doing. it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because you had no care for it, but that was the issue: the idea that because you had no care for it — unlike everyone else — there’s a possibility that you won’t be able to impress him when some people might have surpassed you during the time that you had decided to not do excessive training.

but of course, if you told them that, then they’d just go back to thinking you weren’t being serious when you one hundred percent were.

“we’re going to miss breakfast,” you pointed out observantly.

jean stood up, dusting himself off with an air of free confidence, a smirk playing on his lips which you wanted so badly to slap off. perhaps when you finally get into a better mood, you will.

“come on then,” he suggested cheerfully, striding over to the closed door, “if you’re so eager.”

jean was probably the only person you had seen that day who was not shitting himself due to the exams. well, perhaps sasha too, but did she really count when before she had been gifted with some bread and cheese, she looked so close to tears?

it didn’t matter in the end, not when the dry bread in your mouth nearly choked you mercilessly at the sound of his voice.

his voice.

it was enough to wake you from your non-existent slumber, enough to shake you from your lazy mood, enough to splash ice cold water on your face like a harsh reality check. you slapped a hand over your mouth, tears blurring your vision as you coughed, your other hand gripping onto the wood of the table so hard, you felt your nails digging into the table.

jean gave you a single glance before ultimately deciding to help out, slapping your back (albeit, harder than he should have and the fucker knew it) before looking around, trying to decipher what had got you in such a state.

“woah, even y/n’s nervous,” you heard connie chuckle from beside marco who, bless him, was silently urging you to drink some water.

you glared at the cocky, bald headed cadet who was holding his head in the palm of his hand.

“i am not nervous!” you snapped, a hand around your neck to ease yourself.

it wasn’t a complete lie, because no, you weren’t nervous about the exams. you were nervous about how you performed in front of captain levi, the man who was having a conversation with keith outside of the mess ha— hang on a minute.. he was having a conversation with keith!

sight now coated in red, steam might as well have been protruding from your ears, for if glares could kill, keith would have been dead ten times over.

connie coughed loudly. “chill out man, i was just kidding.”

you averted your gaze to him.

everyone at the table was watching you intently: you hadn’t realised that it looked as though you were directing your anger towards the clown that you knew to be connie even though you knew all too well it was your arch-nemesis, but they had no clue. maybe that was a good thing, your cover would have been blown if not for their completely wrong ideas. your blood was no longer boiling as much as it had been previously.

exhaling through your nose, you shook your head.

“it’s not that,” you informed them, ripping off another piece of bread and popping into your mouth with a sigh. “i have someone to impress.”

at that, everyone’s heads leaned in, some looking amused, others looking baffled. some even had the audacity to look skeptical (stupid idiots, you’ll show them!). jean and marco, however, shook their heads and sighed, looking unimpressed.

“here we go again,” you heard jean mutter. you repressed the urge to shove his face into marco’s porridge.

connie cackled loudly, pointing at you as if he had heard a joke worthy of making even captain levi’s mouth twitch. “you got your eye on someone?” he chortled, wriggling his brows. he looked more like a clown than ever.

“no,” you rolled your eyes. how dumb could he be? “he’s got his eye on me.”

they all looked at jean and marco for confirmation.

“don’t look at me,” stated marco, raising his hands up in a way that practically screamed ‘i’m not involved’. a form of betrayal you won’t forget.

“come on now,” began thomas wagner, who had been sitting quietly up until now. after hearing his next sentence, you thought that perhaps he should have stayed quiet. forever. “you guys aren’t actually buying this?”

you narrowed your eyes at him, your grip on your bread tightening. your day was already not having a good start, this was merely worsening it. “why wouldn’t they?”

maybe jean was sensing trouble, because he seemed to be acting as a piece maker for the first time in his life. someone give him a reward. “thomas,” he pressed on warningly.

thomas wagner, however, continued to joke. jean knew he meant no harm, just a friendly conversation, but where these conversations used to poke some fun at armin, or eren, or even him, jean, they had rarely ever been focused on annoying you, y/n. especially not when you were already in a sour mood. if commandant keith did not scare you on your good days, what the hell were you capable of on your bad ones?

wagner was playing a dangerous game without knowing it, it was only fair jean warned him.

but the blonde idiot was not getting it, and jean could tell your patience was waring thin.

“every guy is scared of you,” answered thomas, rewarding himself with laughter from the listeners.

true, you thought carelessly. but captain levi is not ‘every guy’.

jean’s shoulders drooped in relief. he didn’t say anything too bad.

“and,” wagner continued; jean was tense again (why doesn’t this idiot just shut the fuck up?), “this guy probably doesn’t even exist.”

BAM!

you kicked the bench wagner had been sitting on, hard enough to push it back despite the fact that it was being shared by the weights of many people, and the next thing anyone knew, he was on the floor, clutching at his buttocks in confusion and pain.

oh, and that wasn’t all.

keith was now looming over the table, sporting a deep scowl (when had he gotten here? you had no clue).

“it was y/n, sir!” some redheaded guy accused loudly.

you didn’t even bother denying it, but that did not stop you from sending him the dirtiest look you could muster: who even was this guy?

“do i know you?” you voiced, watching as his ears turned a deep shade of crimson.

“y/n,” sighed jean, nudging you with his foot as marco put his head down to avoid eye contact with the exasperated commandant.

“i already knew who it was before i even looked at what had happened,” keith scoffed, ignoring the way reiner braun was stifling his laughter, ignoring the way bertholdt hoover was silently choking on his bread, ignoring the way mina carolina was using her pigtails to silence her giggling. keith then shoved wagner from the behind with his foot. “get up, scum. your training starts now.”

and then he left.

wait.. he left? you questioned, raising your head to glance at the door to find that, yes, indeed, he had left.

but it was not only you who had been pondering his odd actions. the entire table was now gazing at you with wonder, envy, and amusement as you pushed away your now empty plate.

“and if it were any of us..” began jean, bitterly.

“what’s your trick?” asked connie, looking very interested as thomas wagner begrudgingly climbed back onto his seat. “whatever it is, i need it.”

“no, i do!” argued sasha, which (to be fair) she really did. ever since the first day, keith had it out for both of you — mainly you, seeing as sasha had only done one wrong whereas you had committed plenty of offences.

“i think he’s just fed up of you, y/n,” armin helpfully answered the question you failed to. “every single one of us set the standard. fortunately, y/n set it really low, so he expects everything she does now.”

“oi,” you snapped, realising how troublesome that sounded. maybe that was why your mother did not seem too upset with you leaving the house for the training corps.

“you’re annoyed ‘cause it’s true,” said jean sternly.

his stupid ass was so engrossed in lecturing you, he missed the way sasha had stolen his final loaf of bread from right under his nose. well, because of his annoying self, you decided you wouldn’t tell him that the bread sasha was now munching on was definitely not her’s.

“maybe use this new information to.. i don’t know.. fix up?” suggested marco kindly. he looked away when you met his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck timidly. “or i think that’s what jean meant —”

“i didn’t.”

“jean, i’m trying to make her less angry at you —”

“you do realise that i can hear you perfectly well, right?” you interrupted, frowning at their stupidity.

and the last few minutes of breakfast went by with you and jean arguing, marco attempting to make peace, thomas wagner being awfully quiet now (though watching your trio with amusement like everybody else), and none of you noticing the watchful, grey eyes that the stoic figure by the double doors had on you all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“line up, maggots!”

you stood behind a tall, brunette boy. after some close examination, you realised that it was eren, and then you felt depressed all over again. not only was he being so damn determined, his height was preventing you from seeing anything at the front, including the delicious, short man standing beside keith with his arms folded tightly over his chest. so, frustrated, you took a teeny, tiny step forwards, standing on your tip toes so that eren could hear you when you whispered.

“move a bit to the left, will you?”

eren’s posture, already extremely tight, tightened even further, shoulders raising ever so slightly which told you that he most definitely had heard you. you waited.. and waited.. and waited.. why the hell was he not moving?

you nudged the back of his foot with yours, reminding him of your presence.

“can you move a bit?” you asked again, nicely so that the angry voice that urged him to have anger issues would not go against you when you needed him to comply the most. “please?”

you heard him exhale through his nose. still, no movement. you were beginning to grow agitated as keith’s speech was slowly growing nearer to an end.

“hey, i’m talking to you,” you whispered again, slightly louder to demonstrate your growing agitation.

“no,” you heard him respond, and although it was through a whisper, you could hear how firm he sounded.

you scowled at the back of his head, fingers tingling, prompting you to pull at his hair. goody-two-shoes.

you didn’t give up though, and began poking his back with every chance you got. there were other higher-ups walking up and down the paths, eyes wandering over every single cadet to make sure they were not talking and were completely focused on keith’s speech before they would enter the examination room. this meant that any time the coast was clear, you’d go back to poking him, nudging him, begging him, and all the while he remained stagnant. like the idiot he is, you thought sourly.

“(…) and if any one of you is caught talking, you will be disqualified and get a fat zero for that specific exam!” keith was saying, but it was only going through one ear and out the other for you, your main focus being on trying to see the captain. “your first exam will be the written test! empty your pockets now! any pieces of paper we find on you once you go in will count as a cheat sheet, you have been warned, cadets!”

annoyed, you kicked at the back of his knees, and to your surprise, he quite literally nearly fell, bending over before catching his balance and standing up straight once more. it would have been quite funny for you if you weren’t so furious right now. the movement did not go unnoticed by keith, however, who moved over to the right and glared at eren.

“JAEGER!” he bellowed, the whites of his eyes so visible his pupils looked like slits. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

before eren could even apologise, keith had his attention elsewhere, looking around for something.

you tilted your head to the side, still attempting to find captain levi, only to see that you had fallen right into keith’s line of sight. fuck’s sake, you thought to yourself, not because his features were slowly starting to harden even further as he looked around, but because moving out of position was now useless when the commandant was covering the man you so desperately wanted to see. you moved your head back in place so that you were concealed by eren’s tall figure once more, disappointed. no use in having eren move for you now, you concluded.

“line up straight, maggots!” the commandant ordered, everyone’s posture straightening by instinct. “AND WHERE IS L/N?”

people around you were now turning their heads, no doubt looking for you. you eyes widened, trying to think of what you might have done that had gotten you into trouble again. bending your knees slightly so he couldn’t find you (you glared at the people around you so they knew not to snake you), you racked your brains of the morning, trying to figure out where you had gone wrong. apart from the wagner incident which keith knew of, what else had you done wrong today?

before you could think of anything, the back of eren’s head that you were looking at was now replaced with the front, and you were surprised to see that the bastard had a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“don’t move,” you whispered pleadingly.

he didn’t say anything and only turned around, as slow as a snail, before raising his arm up.

“what, jaeger?” snapped keith, distracted.

again, eren said nothing.

but instead, he did the opposite of what you asked of him.

the fucker moved. to. the. left.

and keith saw you.

“you actual snitch!” you snapped, the desire to pull at his hair till he turned bald eating you up inside. “you snake! teacher’s bloody pet —”

“i want l/n at the front, now!” demanded keith, voice ringing in your ears despite being such a distance away from him.

you wanted to stomp your feet to demonstrate your irritation, you wanted to throw a tantrum loud enough for him to reconsider, but most of all, you wanted to slap eren jaeger till your handprint was left on his cheek: now you understood why jean hated him so much.

“any day now!” the commandant shouted when you hadn’t moved.

grumbling (and muttering profanities and curses you knew eren would most definitely be able to hear), you slowly made your way to the front, dragging your feet against the concrete reluctantly. because the lines were ordered without a flaw in place, you had to switch places with annie leonhart, a blonde haired, stoic girl who had a heart made of stone so that you had a position at the front. she made no comment about this decision, and silently obeyed by marching to your previous spot without complaint.

keith opened his mouth to continue his speech, but you were left with questions unanswered.

“why am i at the front?”

he did not bother giving you a single glance as he responded. “something always goes wrong when i don’t have my eye on you. i believe what happened to jaeger was all your doing.”

“no it wasn’t —”

“RIGHT, you worthless shits!” continued keith, rudely ignoring your argument.

you scowled, hands behind your back which you straightened at last. keith continued talking to your peers, walking up and down the rows of cadets addressing what would happen next. however, you were not listening. where at the back you were most distracted with finding captain levi, now at the front you were most distracted by captain levi himself. being at the front had its benefits, it seemed, for now you had a clear view of the man. you were close enough to see the exact, precise colour of grey his eyes were, close enough to see every thin strand of his hair that would fall against his head (slightly out of place), close enough to see the crease between his brows when he looked around. if you wanted to, you could examine every single detail about his flawless face and draw it on paper better than jean — who had much more experience with sketching — ever could.

he wasn’t looking at you, though, but that was okay. you would probably faint if he made eye contact anyway.

he looked majestic. grumpy, yes, but majestic all the same. the way in which he stood —

click! click!

you couldn’t see him anymore, vision taken over by a tanned hand that you knew belonged to —

“PAY ATTENTION, L/N!”

blinking several times, you looked up, met with the hard eyes that were keith’s; he did not look impressed. when did he ever? you thought to yourself, unamused. neck warm, and unbeknownst to the second pair of eyes that were focused on just you, you took a step back, grimacing at the hand in your face.

“i’m listening, i’m listening,” you mumbled, trying to stay in place.

“you’re unfocused!” keith scolded loudly. “take that trait with you to the scout regiment and you’ll be the first to die!”

you knew what he was trying to do. make you look bad in front of the captain of the scout regiment himself so that he would fall for him and not you. you bit your tongue, holding it so that you did not get yourself stuck in a sticky situation like last time.

“focus, cadet!”

“i am —”

“backs straight, all of you!”

you sighed, aware that it was going to be a long, long day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

all the cadets were taken into the examination room, line by line. the only issue with this was that keith had (without hesitation) ordered the higher-ups to escort you specifically and to walk by you side-by-side as if you were a child who needed more discipline than the others. for starters, no, you were not a child, and it was unfair that he would single you out just because of your unspoken chemistry and connection with captain levi. it wasn’t your fault that his love was unrequited (or maybe it was, because you were a barrier indeed).

anyway, the main problem wasn’t that you had to be singled out and escorted. the issue was that when keith loudly instructed that one of the higher-ups volunteer themselves to willingly do so, none of them agreed. in fact, when you looked around to see why it was so silent, you were sure that many of them even pretended not to hear him.

it had to be reiterated.

they pretended as though they could not hear commandant keith shadis, who needed no megaphone to allow himself to be heard.

offended, but content that you could walk independently like an adult, you grinned, a sight keith was not happy with.

“what’re you smiling about?” he jabbed, hands clasped behind his back as he towered over you in a way that you thought was supposed to be intimidating. it wasn’t.

“i can walk in myself, then?” you questioned, knowingly giving him the answer to the question with pride.

to your surprise, however, keith did not give you the answer you were expecting.

“no.”

you blinked. “no?”

“are you DEAF, CADET?” he yelled, and your head throbbed with the increasing volume of his voice. “DO YOU NEED ME TO REPEAT MYSELF? IF YOU CAN’T EVEN HEAR ME SPEAK, HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO HEAR THE FOOTSTEPS OF ONCOMING TITANS? YOU’LL BE THE —”

“‘first to die’, yeah, yeah, i get it,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. you could hear sniggering as the lines began to move. what the hell did these people find so funny? “can i go in now?”

“not without an accomplice,” he answered, turning on the spot to glance at captain levi.

the captain stood there, scowling at the commandant. he said nothing, did absolutely nothing, yet somehow you knew that it was going to be him. what you did not know, however, was when that had been decided. had they been having a secret, silent form of communication, a sort of code that you were unaware of? but you were watching keith the entire time, what could you have missed?

it clicked.

every time they looked at each other, it was like there was some type of conversation going on through their eyes.

and then you were jealous.

but you hid it well of course, not letting the anger in you show so that keith wouldn’t be satisfied with how his plan of tearing you and your lover apart was slowly working.

you glanced at captain levi as if waiting for a confirmation. he turned around, began walking, then stopped, craning his neck over his shoulder to glare at you.

“are you sitting this exam or not?”

you swallowed on nothing, nodded, and then marched forwards, falling in line with the captain. the walk was silent, but also wrong. not in the sense that you and him walking together was a bad thing, but because he was walking around the building instead of going through the same entrance everyone else was walking in. curious, you addressed this.

“why are we going this way?”

he didn’t answer.

“everyone else is going to the classrooms.”

he didn’t respond.

“are you taking me to the mess hall?”

he didn’t say anything.

“why do you walk like that?”

“fucking hell, the bald shit was right about you,” the captain grumbled, side eyeing you as he walked.

you narrowed your eyes, figuring that it probably wasn’t anything good.

“what did he say?”

“none of your business.”

“it is my business if it’s about me,” you replied, almost skipping as you walked. who knew having a conversation with the stoic captain levi would be so chill?

he took note of the slight skip in your walk.

“walk properly,” he demanded, looking away when you glanced up at him curiously.

“what, like you?”

if he heard you, he didn’t make any indication that he did. shrugging, you formed an expression like his, shoving your hands in your pockets and then exaggeratedly straightening your back, attempting to walk just like he did, except for the fact that there was more femininity in the way you did, which you tried fixing, but could not.

you walked like this for about a straight minute before he noticed what you were doing. when he did, you smiled, gesturing to your legs that weren’t exactly complying.

he gave you the dirtiest look you had ever seen him give anyone. “what the hell are you doing?”

“am i doing it right?” you asked brightly, ignoring his question which you knew he already had the answer to. “i think i got my top half right, it’s just my legs. you walk like you’ve got somewhere to be —”

“that’s the purpose of your legs, idiot.”

“see, you calling me an idiot isn’t the serve you think it is if i like it,” you notified him wisely.

he glanced at you in a way where you could not decipher what he was thinking. would it kill him to smile just a little? you pondered.

“Coccydynia,” said captain levi, looking as though he was pretending not to await your response.

“it’s not an insult if i don’t know what it means,” you revealed, laughing before realising that captain levi does not laugh when he walks. you coughed, covering it up, but you could tell he knew what you were doing.

“that explains everything,” he stated quietly, but you heard it all the same.

“has keith been telling lies behind my back?” you said, a brow raised in concern, nearly tripping over your own feet. “i don’t know how you walk like this every day —”

“i don’t, you brat,” snapped captain levi, scoffing at your act that he thought looked nothing like him, “and stop calling him by his first name. that’s an order.”

“fine,” you agreed.

he raised a brow at you.

“fine?” he repeated, as though he heard something not worth believing like it was a trap set to kill.

“fine,” you nodded calmly.

he furrowed his brows, looking ahead once more as the two of you walked through the opened double doors.

"that was easy," commented captain levi, regarding you with little emotion as you followed him like a shadow. you were now taking notice of the fact that you were walking towards the classrooms, but the long way. "so what does shadis find so difficult about giving orders to you?"

"he doesn't find it difficult," you announced, undisturbed, "and if he does, he gives them to me anyway. second nature to him now, i think."

captain levi scoffed, almost in a way that sounded like it was a form of realisation. "so you're one of the trouble cadets? should've known."

"wha— no!" you denied, brows furrowed and no longer attempting to walk like him. "i follow orders really well actually. kei— i mean — commandant shadis just doesn't give me enough credit for it."

"you have anyone that can vouch for you?"

he trapped you in a corner now, because when your first thought was jean and marco, the voice at the back of your mind told you that they would most definitely not vouch for you. that short moment of silence was enough for the captain to know the answer, so scoffing, he walked on, making no attempt to bring up a conversation any longer.

"i followed your order," you pointed out smartly. 

he stopped walking, and so did you; stood a few metres behind him, you could tell you had him backed into a corner like he had you at one point. for what reason, though, you had no clue. 

captain levi glanced at you from over his shoulder, face stone cold and voice just as bored. "you'd be foolish not to," he told you, stultifying.

"is that a challenge?" you said, brow raised and a ghost of a smirk on your face. 

the captain was now staring at you in definite shock. of course, his brows weren't as high up as yours would have been, his eyes weren't as widened as yours would have been, his top and bottom lip weren't as widely parted as yours would have been: the small change in his demeanour like the way in which his pupils dilated ever so slightly or the way in which his sharp jaw was left just the slightest bit agape was enough to tell you that you left him speechless. 

the question was why. why was it such a shock to him that you were challenging him? had he never had someone speak to him as if it were a regular conversation? or had you, perhaps, said something completely out of line?

"i'm not part of the scouts yet," you mentioned, walking forwards so that you were directly in front of him now, "so i don't have to answer to you, right?"

he blinked..

and then frowned, the lids of his eyes back to covering half of his pupils. 

"you're asking for a kick to your backside," he finally voiced, "i don't know how shadis keeps up with you."

"i'll take that as a compliment."

"wasn't supposed to be one, now start walking or i'll drag you myself."

you scowled. "keith's rubbing off on you —"

"cadet," he hissed, teeth gritted.

"commandant shadis, i meant," you sighed, disappointed. 

and as the two of you continued to roam the halls in a comfortable silence, you then began to realise that you were taking long detours before reaching the classrooms. wondering why that was, you looked up at the man beside you, trying to figure out his intentions. as if a light bulb was placed directly above your head, your breathing quickened. 

he was trying to get you alone.

but.. why would he do that? you weren't even married.. yet. you weren't prepared, you hadn't even told jean and marco that this wasn't part of your plan, how would they react when they find out eventually? or the better question: could you even bring yourself to tell them? 

palms sweaty and head in a whole other world, you weren't aware of the short glances that the captain would give you every once in a while, a form of checking up on why the lousy cadet beside him (that was you, by the way) would keep looking around warily as if you'd been caught in an illegal act. you were nervous, perhaps, for the exam, which brought him to the conclusion that not only were you such a menace, but you held no regard for the exams, too. he rolled his eyes because, as he said, you were a trouble cadet. 

or maybe even a troubled cadet. why were you nervous to the point where you were now walking closer to the walls of the corridors than to him? 

at last, when you began slowing your walking pace (which thoroughly irked him), he voiced his questions aloud.

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

and he said it harshly.

did not help calm your nerves, by the way. 

"nothing," you lied shakily. "what's wrong with you?"

he scowled at you, turning away briefly and deciding in his head that no, he would never ask you that question ever again, if the situation ever called for it.

but now he had no choice but to take notice of your odd behaviour, because you were practically glued to the wall at this point, slowly lingering as if there was something so interesting about the dust gathered for years that no one had bothered to clean. tramps, he thought in his head, sourly. 

watching you, he waited. 

and he was as impatient as ever.

"get over here," he demanded, vexed. 

you didn't.

"that's an order."

you did.. but ever so slowly. a snail could beat you in a race without even trying. exasperated, he strode forwards, gripped onto your upper arm tight enough to leave marks, and then pulled you forward so that you were forced to walk beside him. 

he must really want me then, you mused, conflicted between feeling panicked or excited. 

"escaping your exams won't get you anywhere but back in the stables," he told you firmly. your brows were knitting together, confused as to why he was talking about exams when he was clearly trying to get you alone in a room with him. he scoffed at the look on your face, walking faster when you tried pressing your feet to the ground. for a man as short as him, he sure was strong as hell. "yeah, i remember. seems like you've forgotten though, don't make me remind you."

what the fudge does that mean?

but before you could ponder on that for any longer, he stopped at the wooden door of a classroom. the very classroom - you noticed - where you took your daily classes, the very classroom you were told you would be in for your written exams. and here you were, not alone with captain levi the second he twisted the knob and opened the door to find befuddled cadets trying to find their assigned seats. 

"get in," he said, wasting no time in turning away to leave. 

you couldn't. not when your heart was practically threatening to leap out of your chest, not when your brain had been completely fried, not when your limbs were rooted to the spot, frozen. and you could see, from your peripheral vision, that he was still looming around the corner, waiting. 

"oi," he called out, voice bouncing along the walls so that you were shaken out of your stupor. you shifted on the spot, staring at him expectantly. "stop wasting time and go inside."

the look on his face - he remained expressionless, a small pout pulling at his lips like something between a frown and a scowl - made it look as though he wanted to say something, but was holding back. in the end, his expression merely hardened, a silent order with his eyes.

"if you don't walk yourself in that room right now, i won't hesitate to use force —"

"all right, all right, keep your hair on," you quickly replied, after thankfully recovering from your petrified state. you felt your heartbeat return to its usual pace, beat after beat, you stood waiting for him to leave. when he didn't (as if he expected you to run away the second he turned the corner) you grinned, lifting an arm to send him an exaggerated wave. "wish me luck!"

the aloof captain simply rolled his eyes; you took that well regardless. 

when you found your seat at last (after taking your sweet time walking in the room as you were processing the previous events) you sat, pulled yourself in with your chair, and clasped your hands together on the table in front of you, deep in thought. yes, you were one hundred percent wrong with the captain's intentions, and now really thinking about it, why would someone like him try to get you alone after knowing you for only a solid five minutes? it just didn't make sense, and if you had just realised that earlier, perhaps the disappointment blooming in your chest wouldn't have existed at all: even though you were scared and unprepared shitless, you would practically kill now for some time alone with captain levi. 

and after the disappointment, the anger settled in comfortably. how dare he not want me? i am amazing, i am awesome, i am —

"hey, y/n, i've gotta ask you something."

leisurely, you turned your head to face the cool toned voice that interrupted your very important thoughts. mildly annoyed, you raised your eyebrows at the freckled brunette who sat on her chair carelessly. 

"you're number ten as of now, right?" asked ymir, brown eyes staring at you in confidence. 

you nodded, inquisitive to see where this was going. 

"well i got a favour i need from you," she told you calmly. swinging on her chair as the other cadets walked up and down the isles to find their seats, she continued without a waste of a single second. "i heard you're joining the scouts. is that true?"

again, you nodded.

"how do i know you won't change your mind at the last second?" 

you tilted your head, confused. "what're you talking about?"

ymir whistled lowly. "i remember a time where you were pretty serious about joining the garrisons."

you shook your head, waving a hand dismissively. "that was ancient. a long time ago —"

"it was three weeks ago —"

"i was a different person then!" you shot back, outraged. she seemed unfazed, almost pleased with your response, which brought you to a single question. "why do you care anyway? it's my choice."

"i want you to do something for me," said ymir, and when you searched her face for a single suspicious look to see where the lie was, you found none. ymir halted her swinging for a moment, the legs of her chair slamming against the wooden floor as she slapped a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to her. instinctively, you leaned in. "see krista over there?" 

you followed her other arm, traced it to where she was pointing and was met with the sight of krista lenz, a blonde haired girl with doe blue eyes to match, muttering and speaking to herself. judging from the way her brows furrowed so tightly that it created lines on her forehead, you could tell immediately that she was preparing for the oncoming exam. 

you liked krista, she was a nice girl who had shown you kindness since your first day here at the training corps. with that in mind, you also knew how ymir and herself were glued to the hip, so whatever ymir was going to ask of you, it was safe to assume that it had something to do with little krista. 

"what about her?" you went on to say, watching as krista rubbed her temples with her fingers. 

"she looks stressed, right? i know a way you can help a girl out," suggested ymir, releasing her grip on your shoulder to clasp both her hands behind her head. "let me cut to the chase. you have no intention on joining the military police, you made that pretty clear from the start. no clue what your deal is with them but i like it, 'cause that means you'll have no problem with taking position number eleven instead of ten, just so krista can join the mp's and live in the interior?"

you rested your chin on the palm of your hand, surprised. "so.. you're asking me to be a little lousy on the exams?"

ymir clicked her fingers, pointing at you as if to say 'bingo'. 

"exactly. how's that sound?"

you were now in deep thought, which you didn't completely mind. it took your brain away from any thoughts about captain levi, something that you knew was needed due to your unhealthy obsession. you honestly did not mind dropping a position, it wouldn't be too bad. besides, your only plan with these exams is to impress the captain, and you could still do that being number eleven, right?

ymir was not a patient girl and it showed. she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, forming a fist with her knuckles so she could press her cheek into it and rest her tilted head there.

"c'mon, if you don't plan on joining the military police, what's the point of being part of the top ten?" 

"but that's the point," you began to explain, conflicted, "i hate the military police. the only reason why i plan on being in the top ten is to prevent another potential member of the military police. if i now know that krista will be one of them, well my plan goes to shit."

"it's krista," clarified ymir, frowning, "do i need to spell her name out for you? what bad would krista do in the military police?"

that was a good argument.

"if you had to choose anyone to be part of that regiment, krista would be the best option and you know it."

you did not spend any more time in thought. smiling, you gave ymir two thumbs up.

"all right, fine," you agreed, content. "i'll go down one step, number eleven it is. doesn't sound too bad, right?"

"not at all," encouraged ymir, smirking all the while. "but if you change your mind —"

"i'll let you know beforehand,” you assured her truthfully. “'m sure i won't, though.”

ymir nodded abruptly, looking pleasantly pleased with your answer. the two of you then decided that you would stop the small talk to pay attention to the examination’s officer, who was giving a small pep talk at the front of the class. he merely summarised the things you were taught in class, which wasn’t at all that difficult to forget: where the weak spot of a titan was, who came to discover it, the theoretical aspect of the existence of the titans, etc.

however, despite knowing all of this, you couldn’t help but believe that the stuff you wrote in the exam weren’t as sharp as they would have been on your best days. perhaps it was because a certain someone had been plaguing your thoughts throughout every question you read and every answer you thought of.

you left the classroom feeling elated either way, deciding that this one exam would pull your grade down (like you had agreed with ymir) but the rest would be quite all right.

the next one was the use of odm gear and titan killing. of course, real titans weren’t used, it was just like training, where you’d fly around the woods and the cardboard titans would appear out of the blue; the goal was to slice the cushion part of their necks. for every kill in the set amount of time given, you earned a point, boosting your grade.

and how did that go for you?

better than the written exam, sure.

you were sure you’d have made it past position number five from the second you took off the ground, the hooks of your gear latching onto the thick trunks of the trees, pulling yourself up against the force of gravity as the wind smacked your face harshly. you had one of the female higher-ups following you close by, observing your every move, her face showing no crack of emotion for you to decipher whether she was impressed or not, but that was okay, you knew that you did particularly like well for this part..

except for when you caught sight of him.

the second you spotted a flash of dark green in your line of sight (one that you knew did not belong to the leaves hanging on the trees), you froze, flying in mid-air with a hollow head, the remaining gas left in your canisters being wasted on the movement of simply moving with no sense of direction.

and then your nose met a wall. hard enough to know it was solid, and flimsy enough to recognise it as cardboard, you were well aware that one of the last pop up titans that was meant for you to kill had stopped you right in your tracks.

and then you fell.

— caught yourself just in time with your hooks so that you were bent over a tree branch, arms and legs hanging limply in exhaustion —

but you still fell nonetheless.

that would most definitely effect your grade.

you groaned, opening your eyes to stare deeply into the brown ones belonging to the woman who had been previously observing you: she was sitting on the branch in front of you, higher up than you, and shaking her head.

“how much do i have to pay you for you to forget this ever happened?”

she ignored you and instead announced that your time was up. you came to the conclusion that that exam didn’t go as well as you wanted it to go, but it was definitely something, enough to make up for the grade you messed up for the first one.

keith later announced that all cadets would be allowed an hour break before continuing on for the last set of exams. relieved, you sat by yourself by the tree near the field where the hand-to-hand combat training usually took place. you weren’t alone for long, for jean and marco had come as a pair to sit beside you, pulling you into a conversation on how the first two examinations went.

“i smashed it,” jean announced proudly, leaning on one of his elbows with an air of unhinged confidence. “probably did better with the odm than the writing though. like did you see that question — what was it? — oh yeah, the one about ‘approximately how many titans can one single soldier kill’? how the hell should i know? isn’t that supposed to be up to the skill of a soldier?”

“i think that was meant to be the answer,” marco sheepishly replied, jean responding by smacking his forehead and then grunting at the impact. “and i’m pretty sure we’re supposed to write the statistic.. like the highest kill count done by somebody —”

“which would be captain levi, right?” you asked, because you remembered writing about him somewhere on your paper.

jean rolled his eyes at you. “for the love of god, i hope you did not write that —”

“it would be, actually,” answered marco, raising his brows at you in surprise. “you wrote that, didn’t you?”

“of course i did,” you revealed, laughing at the scowl on jean’s face, “who do you think i am? there’s no way i’d forget such an important thing about him.”

“i saw you walking with him earlier too,” mused marco, smiling. “how did that happen?”

“keith,” you stated, venom laced on your tongue as you spoke the single syllable that was his name.

“shadis,” corrected jean, bitter.

you rolled your eyes. “that paranoid are you?”

“can’t blame me when it comes to you.”

“anyway,” started marco, interrupting as the peacemaker he is, “how did you do, y/n?”

sighing, you leaned back against the tree trunk, the rough wood scratching against your harnesses.

“aside from a silly little mistake —”

“i bet it wasn’t ‘little’ —”

“— i think i did really good actually,” you continued as if jean hadn’t commented his unwanted thoughts. “i’ve decided that i’m gonna step back a bit.”

jean and marco, ever the only ones to be so curious with what you get up to, sent you curious looks as if to say how?. you saved them the time of panicking for no good reason by clarifying exactly what you meant.

“i’m taking position number eleven now.”

and they certainly weren’t pleased with your answer.

“what? why?” demanded jean, a single vein protruding from his pale (now very pink) forehead. he sat up properly, towering over you in a fit of white hot rage and fury. “you’re taking yourself out of the top ten? why?”

marco did not look too impressed either. he was frowning - pouting almost - eyes downcast in what looked like to you as disappointment. he didn’t say anything, choosing to let jean express his contained anger instead.

“how are you going to get into the military police if you’re not in the top ten?” argued jean, his thin brows knitting together tight enough to form lines between them.

“you forget,” you started, irked, “that i never planned on joining the military police. you know that —"

“you won’t be in contact with us!” snapped jean, actually gripping onto your arm tight enough to leave half moon crescent marks where he touched you. “you’re insane —”

“it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. i’m banned from joining the military police regardless, remember?”

jean had definitely forgotten this crucial fact, because he leaned back again, the grip on your arm loosening as he ran a hand through his light hair with his free hand. “shit.. yeah, you are,” he murmured, realisation seeping in. “fuck’s sake, y/n, the hell did you have to go bothering nile dok for?”

“hey, it was for erwin!”

“commander erwin,” mumbled marco, who had been eerily silent up until now.

surprised, you turned your head to shift your gaze from an irate jean to a calm marco, who was silently picking at the grass squashed beneath your weight.

“you’re gonna need to say his name with his title in front.. for when you join the scouts.”

blinking, you were convinced this was a dream. it had to be. marco, who had secretly (though not slyly) been wanting you to join any regiment but the survey corps, was now encouraging you to pick them? marco, who had always lowkey sided with jean, was now siding with you and your choice?

this definitely wasn’t real.

“pinch me,” you breathed, startled.

“no, pinch me,” said jean, in awe. he stared at marco. “you’re supporting her?”

“not really,” said marco, giving you an apologetic shrug when you frowned, “but i do believe that it’s her choice. i’m sure she’d want us to join the scouts with her, but she’s not trying to convince us about it because she knows it’s up to us, our decision if we want to join her there or not.. or that’s what i — that’s what i think —"

“you’re right,” you admitted, beaming at him. “i’d drag you guys there with me but i know you don’t want to.”

“hm,” voiced jean, seemingly at rest. “what changed your bipolar mind anyway? i thought you wanted to impress captain levi?”

“i can still impress him by being at number eleven. besides, ymir wanted krista to take number ten —”

“you’re doing this for them?” asked jean, outraged. “what about you? the fuck do you owe them?”

“it’s not a debt i’m trying to pay!” you exclaimed. “i’m doing this ‘cause i want to.. and like i said, we wouldn’t be in the same regiment even if i did stay at number ten. nile dok hates me.”

jean scoffed. “and whose fault is that?”

“his. i’m extremely loveable —”

“not wrong there,” chuckled marco, and you sent him a toothy smile, showing off your pearly whites.

“that’s why captain levi’s already asked you out, right?” jean jabbed at you.

“i’ll have you know that he nearly did today!”

“straying too far from the truth, i think,” marco intervened, causing you to slap his arm playfully.

“whose side are you on, marco? you keep switching.”

“whichever one benefits me most.”

“devil in disguise, you are —”

“you’ll be working for the devil in disguise, sooner or later,” said jean, flicking your forehead.

you yelped, jumping away from him as you rubbed your head, glaring at the culprit in front of you. “you’d better not be talking about erwin —"

“i hope not too,” replied jean, annoyed, “i hope i’m talking about dot pyxis, or nile dok —”

“hey, you never know, she might even decide to find a way to stay in the training corps and work for commandant shadis instead,” said marco, sheepishly moving away from you when you sent him an unmoving glare.

“anyone but the one man that could get her killed,” agreed jean, nodding, “even if it’s the commandant —”

“i’ll slay those titans better than even the commander,” you vowed dramatically. “that’ll prove to you guys that i’m not gonna go rogue out there.”

“and now you sound like jaeger —”

“jean!”

“whatever. just don’t die when you join the scouts,” jean finally uttered, and instead of the usual joking manner the three of you spoke in, there was a sense of grave urgency in his voice, the vein that had previously been visible on his forehead pulsing beneath his skin. you could tell he was still not on board with your decision, but there was a difference to his attitude from then to now. it was all sinking in, genuine worry painted over his features which made this entire thing seem more real. it was only a couple more weeks before you parted ways, the potential thought that you could die outside of the walls without a body to be returned did not ease both jean and marco’s nerves, however they were accepting: one more than the other but even still, accepting.

and that made you content.

you found yourself grinning at jean, leaning forward to tease him. “aw, do you care about me suddenly jean-boy?”

“shut up, i take it back.”

“you don’t,” you chortled, pulling at his ear as he swatted your hand away.

“why are you always like this with me?” he grumbled, rubbing his pink ear grumpily. “what about marco?”

“marco can admit he cares,” you answered, placing your hand on top of marco’s when he shakily smiled at you, “but you’re the idiot who hates affection for some stupid reason —”

“he wouldn’t hate it if it was from mikasa,” marco joked, and you bent over in laughter, surprised at how easily the joke slipped past the precious, peacemaker marco’s lips with such ease.

“w-what? that’s not — fuck you guys, i hate you,” sputtered jean, left in a pool of his own embarrassment as the two of you continued to make fun of him.

not long after, the hour break was done as soon as it came, and before you knew it, the lines were formed once more to proceed with the next set of exams. of course, you were at the front again, not that you didn’t try to take back your original spot, however, eren was not having it, and he purposely stepped to the side to reveal your sneaky figure hiding behind him. you threatened him lowly as you made your way to the front, but you felt victorious when you saw the look of unease and fear on his face when he heard you curse at him; at least he knew he was fucked. we love a self aware king.

the next exam you had was hand-to-hand combat. you were placed in pairs (random pairs) to fight it out and hold it for an entire minute. you had been paired with hannah diamant, a brunette haired girl who you knew to be a hopeless romantic, a girl you had interacted with many times but never actually trained with her one-to-one. thankfully, you were aware that hand-to-hand was not her best, but it certainly was yours, so you held your ground incredibly well throughout it all.

until..

him.

you saw him. you saw him eyeing the cadets, you saw him observing their every move, you saw him criticising them with his calculating eyes.

and when you tried getting yourself to focus, under the impression that he would be watching you too, you lost it. taking steady breaths, you put yourself into position, preparing yourself, only to trip over your own feet and go tumbling over poor hannah, who had done nothing but fall victim to your clumsiness.

the examination’s officer tutted at you, shaking his head as he scribbled aggressively on the board clutched tightly in his iron grip.

so like odm, you figured it went well till this very point: unfortunate, but not too bad, right?

that was okay, because you were sure to make up for all the mess ups in your assessments when you would go in for the final exam: the knowledge crunch.

here you would be in a room, alone with an examination’s officer and a single higher-up. the examination’s officer would have some pre-set standardised questions in front of them, and you simply had to answer correctly. show off your knowledge, really, and be creative too.

which you were one hundred percent sure you could do. there were many times where you left people speechless, and what was that due to? your creativity, the ability to freeze them and have them expect the unexpected.

you were certain you’d do well when you lined up by the door with your fellow cadets waiting for your turn, you were certain you’d do well when the line began moving, you were certain you’d do well when you caught sight of different higher-ups leaving and entering the room..

but you weren’t certain you’d do well when mina carolina skipped out of the room, squealing in excitement.

“how’d you do?” you asked, beaming at her when she sent you a radiant smile full of exhilaration.

“i think i did excellent!” she smiled, bending her knees to stop herself from jumping, “i thought it’d go horribly because i was so nervous of the man in the corner!”

“man in the corner?” you repeated, confused.

“he’s the captain of the scouts, captain levi’s in there,” mina clarified, watching as your face fell. she gripped onto your biceps, gently shaking you as some form of comfort. “oh don’t worry, y/n! when i saw him there, i thought i’d start stammering like crazy. remember when we’d have commandant shadis ask us the questions? it was nothing like that! he just sits in the corner and watches!”

you absentmindedly nodded, before realising what she had uttered at the last sentence.

he just sits in the corner and watches!

(..) just sits in the corner and watches!

(…) in the corner and watches!

(….) and watches!

“he watched you?” you asked, unintentionally cutting through her vibrant explanation of how she wasn’t a stammering mess like she usually was; she did not mind, happy to answer your question either way.

“yeah, and he looked really intimidating, i nearly lost track of thought,” said mina, chuckling. “word of advice, just don’t make eye contact with him. i did once and i lost track of what i was saying. he’s got this face that just makes it look like everything you’re doing is wrong, y’know?”

you’d have thought that you’d be happy to see the captain again, and no doubt, you most definitely were. the only issue was that you came to the conclusion that your exams went really well.. when he wasn’t around. somehow, when he did come at the last damned second, you managed to fuck up. it was like fog was building up in your brain, so much so that you could not think clearly. he was as desirable as cheese in a mousetrap.

before you knew it, your name had been called out by a voice deeper than even reiner braun's. gulping, despite the encouraging smile mina gave you, you walked into the room, nearly walking directly into the chest you knew belonged to captain levi.

"you again?" he said, looking down at you as if you were such a nuisance. 

you smiled through the rapid beating of your heart. "don't act like you want to get rid of me so soon."

"it's not an act."

"captain levi," the deep voice sounded again. you looked past the shoulder of the captain's, met with the eyes of a man who looked old enough to be your grandpa. "we're a little short on time. i thought you said you were leaving?"

you walked over to your chair, taking a seat and crossing one leg over the other, leaning forward to take a look at the piles of paper stacked in front of you. you took one, your eyes running down the page skimming and scanning. 

"eugh, whose handwriting is this?" you questioned aloud, making a look of disgust as you tried reading whatever the scribbles of writing were. "could use a lot of work —"

"i'll have you know, it is mine," the examination's officer remarked, impertinent. 

your face dropped, eyes widening and heart stopping altogether. you wanted nothing more than the ground to just swallow you whole. even death seemed to look more appealing than this form of embarrassment. he was definitely not planning on giving you a good grade. 

you let out a shaky laugh, offering the paper back to him timidly.

"yeah — erm — so you might want this back, right?"

he all but snatched it out of your hand. you shrunk in your chair. 

"actually," began captain levi, who had been present throughout this whole interaction, "i don't remember saying i was ready to leave."

the other man looked up, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose further up at this revelation. he shook his head, "but you just —"

"you said your time was running out," the captain reiterated.

"of course," the examination's officer said, flipping over the pages on his notebook, "of course."

it felt like hours had gone by when the questions had started. the captain, like mina had said, made himself comfortable at the corner of the room, arms folded over his chest as he watched you. you tried not to focus on him, and it was working.. almost:

"there has been a titan break in: wall rose has been taken over. what are you going to do?"

"run to erwin."

the examination's officer blinked. "erwin?" he raised, the end of his pen poking at his cheek. "erwin smith, you mean?"

you nodded. "that's him."

"why?"

"commander of the only regiment that deals with titans.. why wouldn't i?" you responded, leaning back with your elbows resting on the arms of the wooden chair. "and because he's my best friend, of course —"

"watch it," captain levi voiced. 

you looked up, having almost completely forgotten that he was even there. you raised your hands up in 'surrender', shrugging. "my bad, forgot you two were tight."

the examination's officer coughed, eyeing you eccentrically. "you and commander erwin.. you're acquaintances?"

"more than acquaintances," you answered. "he told me his entire life story —"

"don't be fooled," captain levi butted in, "she begged him for it."

"you don't know that," you retorted quickly. 

"did you?" the examination's officer asked. "beg him for it?"

"yes," you said lowly, "still makes us more than acquaintances!"

he coughed, bringing his notebook of questions closer to his face. "we're stirring away from the exam.. let's see.. ah — yes — so you would contact erwin smith.. and say what, exactly?"

"that he's not doing his job properly and that titans have broken through."

"not doing his —? okay, all right. let me rephrase. what is the first physical action you would take against a titan, should you come face-to-face with one?"

"slice the nape."

"and if a fellow comrade is in danger?"

"slice the nape."

he begins noting things down in his book. you wonder if what he's written is even legible. 

"who would you report back to after seeing titans invade wall rose?"

"erwin —"

captain levi clicked his tongue. "that's commander erwin to you."

"or him," you added, pointing at the moody captain residing to the examination's officer's back left corner. 

"i wouldn't believe you."

this guy, you thought to yourself, aware that the man in front of you was probably noting down every interaction you'd made with the captain as a bonus, too. 

"i'd make you believe me."

"what the hell did you just say —"

"is this exam finished yet?"

"not quite," the old man said.

and he was a liar, because he made it seem as though it would be done in a couple of minutes: it wasn't. you were there for nearly ten whole minutes before things were finished off. many, many times you had rendered the man in front of you speechless (your main goal, of course), and you were convinced that you had done well. impressed the captain? you must have, there was no way around it.

you left the room feeling giddy, convincing yourself that it hadn't been nearly as bad as you thought it would be. mina was right. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

a week later, you were alerted of the results of the new list.

a crowd of people had been spotted by the corridor opposite to keith's office, huddling and shoving and pushing each other. immediately, you knew what it was, especially when marco excitedly dragged you across the substantial amount of people regardless of their loud complaints about how it wasn't fair that you were going in front of them.

 ⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

1st - Mikasa Ackerman

2nd - Bertholdt Hoover

3rd - Reiner Braun

4th - Annie Leonhart

5th - Marco Bott

6th - Eren Jaeger

7th - Jean Kirstein

8th - Krista Lenz

9th - Sasha Braus

10th - Connie Springer

⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟

so you hadn't made it to the top ten. expected. you weren't disappointed.

so you read number eleven, where you should be, but found:

11th - Ymir Fritz

what? you thought to yourself, baffled. okay, so maybe you were at number twelve. again, not too bad, but instead you found:

12th - Samuel Linke-Jackson

13th - Armin Arlert 

and now it made no sense to you. you appreciated all three of these people, ymir, samuel and armin, but you knew that your skill was much better than theirs, and as your finger moved further down the list, you found yourself.. lower than expected:

38th - Y/n L/n

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you just had to drag marco into your bullshit, didn't you?

jean did not know why he chose to be friends with you, or how this friendship even came to be, but it's not as though he regrets it.. of course not.. you were just a handful. or more than a handful, really.

marco was an absolute stammering mess, scratching the back of his neck as he tried bringing up conversation to the commandant for your sake. it was a painful sight to watch, yet jean had found himself leaning against a particular tree, eyeing the back of the commandant's head, just picturing the look on his face that had marco cowering back in fear. 

should he go in and save him?

no, jean, don't even think about it, he scolded himself. the second he did so, he was reminded of just why he shouldn't get involved, unless he wanted to ask marco for an ear massage like last time for when shadis twisted and dragged him by his ear. no, he would watch from a safe distance, because he warned marco, had he not? he warned him not to agree with whatever plan you had going and marco made the stupid choice to ignore him. he did this to himself, now he must suffer.

he listened intently, silently cringing at every word he could hear. 

"i just wanted to.. i wanted to ask you a question about something, s-sir?"

silence.

the silence was too damn loud. 

it felt like hours before shadis responded.

"are you waiting for me to grow out some greys or what? ask the question already!"

"o-oh, right! sorry!" said marco hastily. "well, i was curious about.. about.."

fuck's sake, thought jean, mentally face-palming himself, he's just about as much of an idiot as y/n is. he willingly brought himself in shadis's presence unprepared? 

should he interru—

no, jean, no! he reminded himself cruelly. he knew what he signed up for, it's not your problem.

yet watching him fish for something to talk about was physically painful. 

"cat got your tongue, bott?" exclaimed commandant shadis, impatient. "speak now or forever hold your god damn peace!"

and marco actually stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, with nothing to say.

commandant shadis shook his head at him, sighing. "what was i expecting?" he snorted, sounding mildly annoyed. "you spend too much time with l/n, i knew this would happen."

"y-you knew what would happen.. sir?"

"i knew that she would rub off on you and i would lose another extremely capable cadet."

and that couldn't be more further from the truth. 

ah fuck it, jean thought, you owe me one, y/n.

"that's not true," jean called out, feeling heroic. both marco and the commandant turned to see jean  with his head hung, eyes trained solely on the floor in shame. "that's not true because.. i asked him to speak to you."

silence.

calm before the storm.

and then he was yelling.

"YOU? AGAIN?"

"i wanted him to ask you something that i couldn't.." said jean, eyes scrunched shut. i hate my life, he thought, before uttering the last few words. "i need.. relationship advice."

-

jean left the field after several sit ups, squats, and laps with a dull ringing in his ears after listening to the loud lectures given to him by the commandant. 

you were definitely a handful. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

so so sooo sorry for the late update. i've just been extremely busy with school and everything, so i'm juggling writing chapters like these on top of all the work. i probably won't be as active in the next 2 months, but i promise, after mid june, i'll be here a lot. 

i did not expect this fic to get as much love as it got, so i did king of neglect it a bit. and then came back to a swarm of new notifs so yeah, felt special ig lol. anyways, hope u enjoyed? 

all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted in to the story myself.

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

taglist: (send an ask to be added)

today was a bad, bad day.

and the day after that too.. and the day after that also.. you were in dire need of some comfort, but found none; it wasn't all too surprising when you really thought about how you were now sat at number thirty-eight, no where near your rightful spot at number ten. could you help yourself? no. could someone else help you? potentially. perhaps the company of captain levi praising you for ranking thirty-eight for the southern division of the 104th cadet corps — instead of making random remarks at you like he had during the exams — might cheer you up?

but even that sounded quite unrealistic.

his expectations were high, you didn't need a genius to help you comprehend that. you'd heard things about him before you had even met him: that apparently he had his own squad handpicked by himself, that supposedly all of the members included ranked from numbers 1-10 during their own cadet corps, that maybe there was only one female out of the entire group (which hadn't bothered you then, obviously, for you didn't even know the man) and it did not bother you now either, not when you were benched at the corner during your hand-to-hand combat training due to unleashing your rage at reiner who (though jokingly) made a comment about your current position.

which ultimately led you to have marco now at your side, rubbing your back soothingly and lightly scolding you for your actions.

"what did he say that made you explode at him like a ticking time-bomb?" marco asked you gently.

you did not answer. your eyes were trained solely on the figure of reiner who was rubbing his backside in pain, his mouth moving as if he was talking to someone, but you were unable to lip-read. the sight almost made you chuckle. almost.

"hesaidihadpotentialorsomethingidunno," you mumbled lowly.

marco coughed, confused. "i didn't get that."

you sighed exaggeratedly, leaning away from marco's touch to grumble under your breath once more, begrudgingly.

"i still didn't quite catch what you —"

"he said i had potential!" you snapped, wincing when you realised just how wrong you had been. still, you were angry, and unfortunately for the blonde brute, he had been in your way.

expecting another more firm scolding, or even a carefully crafted lecture, both of which you never received, you turned your gaze to glare at marco instead, pondering on why he was so silent. he did not cower under your gaze like others might, instead, it was almost as though he was relishing in it, a lazy smile plastered over his delicate features that practically screamed you (in a gentle manner) 'no-i-am-not-scared-of-you'.

your gaze softened at the sight.

"it was a praise," said marco, finally, "what was so bad about that?"

"he was laughing!" you argued defensively, mildly shocked at marco's reaction. it was almost as if he was teasing you. "and you are too."

"i'm just surprised," he corrected, hands raised in mock surrender. "i mean, for someone who's been complaining about being so tired for the last couple of days, you sure flipped him over your back without a struggle."

you scoffed.

"and he weighs a lot, too," he added, pinching your cheek (in response, you threatened to bite his finger off).

so marco wasn't entirely wrong. you walked around the grounds of the training corps as if you were a ticking time-bomb, a count down representing just when you would explode again, but worse.

you'd heard what the other cadets had been saying, and although it would not usually bother your happy self, now it was more annoying than ever — it irked you to no end. still, you kept your silence, choosing to stomp around and keep your anger buried well inside you like a rotting body in a coffin. however, this did not keep it hidden.

there was one particular day where everyone had been gathered at the mess hall eating their lunch. it had just struck noon and you found yourself hungry.. but not for food. you didn't exactly know what you were hungry for, but on this day, you (and everyone else around you) became well aware of how aggravated you had become, and you pinned that all down on when ymir had grasped your shoulder in a particular manner that had you moving backwards and forwards against your will, to praise you.

"i know i told you to slack off a bit, but you were really committed, huh?" she laughed, clapping you on the back encouragingly. your front jolted forwards, stiff. "thanks anyway!"

"haha, yeah.." you sheepishly laughed, watching as she marched away from you (you could have sworn there was a little skip in her step), "you're.. welcome.."

the boiling fury wasn't present then, obviously, but it made its appearance not long after.

and that's when the whispers slyly travelled to your ears.

marco and jean both had spent quite some time trying to get you to sit with them and eat, but by their tenth (or was it the fifteenth?) try, they had given up, letting you be. so you found yourself walking around the mess hall, swallowed up by your thoughts, a moving vexation to anyone near. you had circled the hall more times than you could count, but after a particular number of circles, someone at the table had spoken up. not to you, of course, they wouldn't be stupid enough to do that (not when no amount of discipline could keep you in check) but about you.

"has anyone noticed how pissed y/n's been?" you heard connie lowly ask the table.

you tried not to look, keeping your head straight and eyes downcast, continuing your walk.

"have you only just noticed?" you heard a more womanly voice respond: immediately, you were aware that it had belonged to sasha. her question was then followed up by the sound of cutlery clashing against each other, and then lots of protests after that.

"shit, sasha, you didn't have to hit me for that!"

sasha ignored connie and went on to say more about your newly adopted attitude. "she wakes up early just to sit and glare. i thought it was because of extra training, but —"

"y/n and extra training aren't compatible," jean countered smoothly.

"but i remember her training on the grounds in the morning with you and marco not too long ago," said a lighter male voice: armin, you could tell. "or maybe my memory's not serving me right —"

"you should give yourself some credit, you saw correctly," another voice added, and this one pissed you off: eren. you had been holding quite a grudge against him since the stupid thing he pulled during the exams.

"bold of you to assume that she came willingly," jean replied, and that was followed by many murmurs of agreement.

"she's just angry," said marco.

"i'll say," a deep voice commented: reiner. he sounded way too amused for your liking. did he need to be taught another lesson? "the little lady can fight."

"i'm holding that against you forever," chortled connie, and the rest of the table was now laughing, but you could also hear that reiner was too, a deep chuckle emitted from his chest. "she showed you —"

"if she can do that to reiner, just imagine what she could do to you," said sasha, but her voice was extremely muffled. you came to the conclusion that her mouth was full.

"jokes on you, i'm not on her bad side!"

idiot, you thought, knowing that everyone was currently on your bad side whether they had spoken to you or not.

"for your own sake, i hope none of you are," commented jean, and as much as you hated him entertaining this conversation, you appreciated how he was correct.

"hypocrite," you heard the stupid green-eyed boy voice. just the thought of his smug face made you want to punch something.

"not again," sighed armin.

"what did you just call me?" jean shot back. for once in your life, you were siding with him.

"you heard me," said eren, the idiot being unable to back down, "you're always on her bad side!"

"yeah, and wanna know where that got me?" jean challenged loudly. "cleaning horse shit, that's where. you should be grateful i'm even warning you about it, jaeger. you're not on her good side either."

"what did you do?" a cooler female voice asked: it sounded to you like mikasa. you figured that she was directing the question to eren.

"nothing!" proclaimed eren.

the urge to turn around and swing your arm at his neck was growing more tempting, equivalent to an itch at the spine you couldn't exactly reach. how dare the little punk lie about what he'd done?

on instinct, you whipped your head over your shoulder, glaring daggers at the particular table at the centre of the mess hall that housed all the people that thought it was okay to talk about you as if you could not hear them despite their low voices. sasha yelped when you had made eye contact, connie began coughing profusely, jean (though his back was to you) had stiffened up, shoulders raising in tense movement, marco was gulping down large amounts of water, mina was fixing her hair (though you noticed there was actually nothing to be fixed), franz kefka began laughing shakily, armin began playing with his food, nac tias turned away, eren's ears went pink, and reiner and bertholdt were now conversing in a conversation that had little to do with you — although you noticed how their eyes would dart back to you every once in a while. mikasa was the only one being normal.

you turned away, continuing your walk, but keeping your ears open.

"way to go, idiot," you heard jean curse, "now she knows we're talking."

"how is this my fault?" demanded eren, offended.

"shout a little louder, won't you?" jean snapped. "it's not like she's only a few feet away from us —"

"isn't it your job to calm her down?" a bemused sasha asked, her voice lowered by the plate on her face. when you looked, you caught sight of her snacking on the crumbs left over. "i mean," she began, slamming the plate onto the table dramatically, "what kind of a friend are you, huh? oh, not you, marco. i meant horse-face —"

"you don't see me calling you potato girl every time!" exploded jean, scandalised. "so quit it!"

"to answer your question," intervened marco, nervous, "even though it's not for me, y/n has a good way of pissing jean off in ways that even eren can't —"

"stretch," commented jean, bored.

"okay, so maybe not as much as eren —"

"you talk about me like i'm not right in front of you!" exclaimed eren, and the urge to leap across where you were currently standing to strangle him to death had only grown at the sound of his loud voice.

"i'm gonna punch you," jean threatened, and then you heard multiple voices of protest over eren's own challenge of 'oh yeah? bring it on'.

commotion was now sounding from the mess hall; it wasn't helping the little voice inside of your head urging you to throw a tantrum worthy of shaking away all the attention from the eren-and-jean drama to focus on you. so, angrier than you had been when you first walked in, you stomped away, making little attempt to create the loud noise from the meeting of your heel and the floor, yet it sounded anyway, some people turning around and watching you instead of the rowdy table at the centre of the room.

only, the second you had passed the double doors, your forehead clashed against the rough harnesses belonging to someone who was tall enough to tower over you. groaning as you took a step back to rub your pained head in annoyance, you opened your eyes to find the culprit you were willing to hit, only to be met with your arch-nemesis: keith shadis.

of course it had to be him. it just had to be him to be the one hurting you some way or another, and it only irked you more that he had managed to do it in your lowest moment.

you knew you couldn't raise a hand against him. after every single problem you had fallen into, none of them would amount to this if you even tried to make them. even on your weirdest days, you knew better than to attack the commandant (even if you had an entire plan made at the back of your head where you were sure never to be caught).

"what did you do this time?" he asked, sounding so confident that you were the cause of the argument behind you.

that made you smug.

he was wrong.

"it wasn't me," you told him coldly.

"i've heard that more times than i can count," he responded, glaring daggers at you, "and not once has it ever been true."

okay.. fair, you thought to yourself reluctantly. still, at least now he truly was wrong.

and then an idea rose to your head.. a brilliant one, one that would have your victim begging for your forgiveness, knowing never to mess with you again.

"it was eren," you stated quickly, attempting to form the most honest face possible.

the commandant regarded you with little emotion, raising a thin brow at you so that the lines on his forehead became much more prominent. you fought to keep your face truthful.

"jaeger?" he said skeptically. "what did —"

"he was going to start a fight," you informed him knowingly. technically it wasn't a complete lie, it was half the truth really.

"with —"

"with jean."

"biased."

"no it's not!" you argued, almost, nearly stomping on his foot in fury. you didn't, of course, knowing better. "when have you ever seen me side with jean, huh?"

he looked up, eyes searching the ceiling above you as he delved deep into thought. you waited impatiently, scanning his shrivelled up features in a silent fit of rage. could he take any longer?

he looked back down at you, shrugging. "i suppose not.. like the odd thing you are, you don't ever seem to side with your own friend when he's in a mishap with that jaeger."

you smiled, radiant and true. he wasn't lying, of course, for every time jean and eren would begin arguing — in order to piss your friend off a little more, for the sake of it — you would always cheer eren on at the back; he also thought it was weird, you could tell from the way he would scrunch up his brows at you at the end of everything without actually saying much, but you didn't seem to mind. so long as you got to see jean and that funny pout he'd make when he was annoyed at you, you were content all the same.

"i can tell you what happened from beginning to end," you announced proudly.

keith raised a hand, a gesture for you to halt.

"you won't even get to the end with how much you crap you spew," he said, and you found yourself frowning at him, contemplating whether to fart in his face once more (to remind him just who he was talking to) or leave him be. you decided on the latter.

that did not mean you wouldn't show him some attitude, though.

you pushed your chin in the air, hands clasped behind your back as you stepped to the side to leave.

"stop right there, scum," he ordered, and you obeyed, halting in your place. he continued. "stay here while i sort this shit out. move an inch and you'll find yourself cleaning again."

you said nothing, eyeing him blankly. he waited, as if expecting you to do something. very well then, if that was what he wanted, and you liked a bit of a challenge, too.

you raised a hand, your pointer finger lifted, and poked the air.

"are you hard of hearing?!" he shouted, the mess hall going quiet. it seemed that the cadets in there had finally caught on to his silent (well not so silent now) presence. "i said, don't —"

you poked the air again.

he shook his head, sighing to himself.

"what was i expecting?" you heard him grumble, before you were left with a bit of ringing in your left ear after he parted his bottom and top lip once more. "JAEGER!"

you grinned. now this was a sight you yearned to see.

turning on the spot, you revealed the smug look on your face, met with the bewildered looks plastered over the faces of every single cadet surrounding the rowdy table at the centre of the room. several people began scattering away like a herd of sheep in a farm. at the middle of the once-present huddle, were jean and eren, both standing side by side, yet looking out of breath.

when jean had made eye contact with you, he looked as though he was about to be sick, a type of green coating the expanse of his pale skin. you rolled your eyes: it was obvious that he was assuming that you were on eren's side and attempting to get him in trouble with keith again.

stupid jean.

"GET OVER HERE," keith demanded. you stepped away, silently cursing at whoever gave this man a voice louder than a rooster.

eren hesitated.

"TODAY!"

with a sideways glance at his two best friends, eren swallowed down any form of anger he had left in him and held his head high, walking over to the commandant and forming the salute position.

"sir."

keith, with both his hands clasped behind his back, walked forward so that he was almost nose-to-nose with the brunette boy. you watched in glee as eren was met with the sight you had been faced with a million times. this was a taste of what he basically had you go through previously. stifling a chuckle, you pursed your lips when you saw eren grimace.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING, BOY?"

you could sit back and watch this all day. it felt relieving watching someone else other than yourself getting in trouble.

"i was.." began eren, who seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

he hasn't got a clue in the world, you thought, satisfied. with keith, nobody was right but himself (how narcissistic of the bald bastard), but it worked in your favour in this very case. poor eren is under the impression that there's some sort of answer he can pull out from the abyss where keith would release him, where keith would accept it and he could go about his day again.

he couldn't be any more wrong than now.

"WHAT, JAEGER? YOU WERE WHAT?"

patience also wasn't something that keith possessed.

you had cursed this fact multiple times, but for once, it tasted like honey on your deprived tongue.

"i —" stammered eren, growing frustrated with himself, "i was defending myself, sir!"

"defending?" repeated keith, and there was something about the lowered tone of his voice that unlike everybody else, you recognised.

you knew keith like the back of your hand. if he was beginning to grow agitated, you would know. if he was delighted (though it was a rare occasion) you would know. if he was exhausted, you would know. if he was feeling merciful (again, a rare occasion) you would know.

so unlike everyone else, all of whom were expecting him to let eren be without a punishment — you'd heard nac tias whisper just now about how 'jaeger got lucky' — you became well aware of what was going to happen to eren.

and you were beyond ecstatic.

"how could you possibly be defending yourself, jaeger," started keith, face hardening like stone, "IF YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT?"

the look on eren's face was enough to have you slap a hand over your mouth to prevent a single sound slip; if only you were as good of an artist as jean was, you would have begun drawing his face right now, have it hung on your bedroom door to look at every morning.

his muscles had softened, eyes going hazy and distracted, jaw un-tightening, lips parting, brows un-knitting.. before they went back to being more firm again with only one difference you could note: his fists were clenched.

"but i didn't —"

"I HATE LIARS!"

and before eren could even begin to explain himself, keith strode forward and grabbed eren by the back of his neck, forcing him to walk along with him as he lead him to the exit of the mess hall right where you were residing.

as they made their way past you, you and eren had made eye contact, one where you could see the fire burning behind his viridian eyes, and he could see the light shining behind yours: he was well aware of how fucked he was now, and you thought it was best to rub it in his face even more.

so, leaning back against the wall, you winked.

or tried to, at least.

the thing was, you were good at everything you tried.. apart from winking.

it was a gamble, really, choosing to do the one thing you could not do in a victorious moment like this. your wink came out more like a hard blink or so, perhaps something even worse (judging by the confusion written all over eren's face as he left, his lips silently moving: you read it as 'what is she doing?').

"yo, why's your eye twitching like that?" connie called out from the distance.

"fudge," you uttered under your breath, facing the crowd of people now staring at you.

"your eye," clarified connie, pointing at you, "it was —"

"i was winking!" you interrupted, disgruntled.

"that's your wink?" he asked, and he did not give you time to respond before he began howling with laughter, clutching onto sasha's arm to prevent himself from falling.

you stared at him, a neutral face with no emotion. his laughing went on for what felt like hours before sasha shoved him off her and he fell. sitting himself upright (still laughing) he choked when he met your gaze, holding his mouth and practically pinching it.

"i'm not — i'm not laughing —"

"liar. he totally was," sasha helpfully commented.

it seemed as though he had realised the severity of his actions. tough luck for him, then.

"you're next," you threatened icily.

and as the mess hall began going back to normal — with a few glances at armin and mikasa, both of whom did not seem angry (like how you expected them to be) — jean and marco were back by your side, one more brooding than the other.

"i'm at loss for words," said marco, shaking his head. "i can't believe —"

"i can't believe it," said jean, expressing his surprise by placing a hand on your shoulder and gripping tight enough to crease your ironed jacket. "you sided with me, for once. thanks."

you shrugged his hand off you, scowling at him. "i didn't do it for you," you revealed, scoffing.

jean blinked.

exchanged a blank look with marco.

and then blinked again.

but then he began smiling, and he looked disgusting doing it. you wished you had some sort of magical ability to wipe the smirk off his face. no wonder he's got no bitches, you thought, grimacing at the way his brows began wriggling at you.

"yeah, sure," he said, too confident for your liking.

"stop making that face," you told him firmly, "you're gonna make me eye-vomit."

jean didn't speak to you for the rest of lunch.

not that he could even if he wanted to anyway. for keith had returned not long after and gave you an earful for moving away from where he had left you. growing annoyed at your life once more, you left him to shout at nothing when you stomped out of the mess hall, ignoring his calls of your name for you to return.

but he was that persistent, you were actually surprised.

usually, you were able to accurately predict the commandant's next move, mainly because you had become familiarised with everything he would do. yet today, somehow, you were wrong. assuming that he would punish you later for ignoring him, you were left with your mouth opened agape when you heard a pair of footsteps following you out of the mess hall. perhaps it was another cadet who had finished their lunch..

wrong.

because he was still calling after you.. and threatening you too.

you turned around, a hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the intense gaze of the sun, staring at the tanned man with narrowed eyes, blinking profusely up at him.

"let me make this CLEAR," he started, furious, "KNOW YOUR POSITION, SCUM. AND POSITION NUMBER THIRTY-NINE SHOULD, IF ANYTHING, LESSEN YOUR CONFIDENCE!"

you stayed silent. or opted to, at least, because holding your tongue was never an easy task for you.

"actually, it's position number thirty-eight," you corrected, disappointed at his stupidity. "get it right."

"big difference."

"well, actually, i believe —"

"i don't have time for opinionated statements," declared keith, sniffing loudly. no grace and decorum, clearly. "even more so that they're coming from you."

"if you're done insulting me, kei—"

he had straightened up, almost daring you to finish the last two letters. you knew better than to end up like eren, of course.

"i'm willingly here to talk to you for a reason, you little shit," informed keith, staring down at you in a way that you knew would make little krista shiver and cry. "i'm not impressed."

you waited.

and waited.

and then could wait no longer.

"er.. what do you want me to do about that?"

"I'M NOT FINISHED!"

"all right, geez man, it's not that personal," you quickly mumbled, stepping back because at this rate, with how often your ears fell victim to the constant yelling, you were positive you'd go deaf in your mid-twenties (and that's if you're lucky).

"YOU, CADET L/N, COULD HAVE DONE MUCH BETTER THAN NUMBER FOURTY!"

"it's thirty-eight —"

"WHY ARE YOU SLACKING?" he demanded, the whites of his eyes dominating. "HAVE YOU GRADUATED YET? WHAT REASON IS THERE FOR YOU TO RELAX?" keith took a deep breath in and used it to form his next statement. "you dropped thirty places —"

"twenty-eight places, actually —"

"SHUT IT!"

you pursed your lips apologetically, allowing him to continue.

"the scouting legion might accept anything after ten but I. DO. NOT!"

you raised your eyebrows. there were many things about today that had you spiralling in confusion. yes, your ranking is definitely not the best, but you had been watching the commandant carefully (not for the reasons anyone else might be thinking, like watching for trouble) and you had yet to see him approach a cadet who had gotten much lower than you and scold them like now. what made you the exception?

"well that's inevitable," you defended yourself calmly, "someone has to be past ten. after the first ten positions are taken, everyone else is automatically placed past ten, what would you do then?"

"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF A POSITION PAST NUMBER TEN, MAGGOT!"

he was shouting praises at you, now? were you to be flattered or offended? were you to cry or laugh?

"er.. thanks?"

"extra training, four in the morning tomorrow, on the training field. do not be late."

"four in the — but i didn't agree to this!" you exclaimed, scandalised. "but that means i get no sleep at all.. regular training starts at eight!"

"TOUGH!" spat the commandant, shrugging. "it depends on just how nice your trainer is."

you pondered for a moment. "that means it's not you then, is it?"

"do you honestly believe, in your right mind, that i would lose an extra three hours of sleep, for you no less?" he questioned, and now fully paying attention, it did make sense, for the enmity between you two was not unrequited after all.

you responded by shaking your head, expecting him to say something after that. when he didn't, you decided that you would ask him about your queries.

"so who is training me?"

"another higher up," he responded vaguely.

you frowned. "yeah, but who?"

"do not chase him away."

you blinked, raising a brow at him skeptically. one, how did he even come to that conclusion? and two, he had completely disregarded your previous question, answering another that you had not even been curious about. unlucky for him then, because you could tell that he desired nothing more than for you to shut up; he had only piqued your interest, resulting in more questions fired back at him.

"why would i chase him away?"

"do you really want me to answer that question?"

"why else would i have asked it?"

"it's a massive jab at your damn ego."

"i don't have a big ego! you're the one who —"

his glare, if possible, had hardened even further. perhaps it wasn't the right time to pick a fight.

you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"do i know this person?"

"what's his name?"

"have i at least seen him before?"

"have i ever been reprimanded by him?"

"what's his —"

"IF YOU DON'T KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, CADET, YOU'LL WISH YOU HADN'T EVER STEP FOOT IN THE TRAINING CORPS!"

you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, and that threat was not correct at all. for one, you would never back down without a fight, and secondly, it was because you had decided to join the training corps that you had seen captain levi, something that you would never regret, so no amount of fear or punishment could drive you to that wish.

could keith be any more wrong today?

he usually always was wrong when it came to you, but the numbers had increased significantly after this conversation.

without a second word, keith had decided that he had had more than enough of seeing you today, and turned away, marching down the field and into the mess hall. you had decided that he was probably going to torment the other kids now, partly because you had put him in an even more sour mood than usual: you felt no remorse when you heard yelling from a distance. the cadets had really annoyed you today, too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you woke up just before four in the morning to freshen up as you usually would do.. but earlier.

mumbling curses and profanities, you made your way over to the training field. it was empty, despite it being four o'clock sharp. typical. whoever your trainer was, he had no regard for etiquette, clearly. you could have decided to come in late, too, but decided otherwise. how hypocritical.

you settled yourself against the brick wall beside the double doors belonging to the mess hall, head tilted back as you gazed up at the night sky. sunrise had not arrived yet, so the stars were still present, glimmering and glittering where they sit against the clouds, dark as the colour of his hair. you wondered whether he was also watching the same stars as you were now, the thought bringing a warm and gentle fire to light up at the centre of your chest where your heart hid behind. the fairy-tale suggestion made no sense, of course. it was four in the morning, he was most likely asleep right now.

you became envious of the fact that you could have been sleeping right now, had it not been for your commandant and his petty rivalry with you.

distracted and dazed, the one thing that pulled you out of your stupor (and the way in which your eyes had been super-glued to the sight above you) footsteps could be heard approaching from in front of you somewhere, the heels of someone's boots clashing against the concrete floors. you averted your gaze immediately, met with the sight of your trainer..

it was instructor claude duvalier!

keith had really gone out of his way this time, it seemed, for the instructor standing before you governed the northern division of the 104th. you were residing at the southern division.

however, before you could say anything as you pushed yourself off the wall, his neutral expression formed into one of horror at the sight of you.

"you?" he cried, looking outraged, scandalised, and betrayed all at the same time.

you were going to politely introduce yourself, before he began shaking his head, taking several steps back. you, on instinct, began taking those same number of steps forward, confused.

"they never told me it was you i had to work with!"

well that wasn't very nice, you thought, beginning to grow agitated and galled.

"well i don't wanna work with you either, then!" you announced, folding your arms over your chest as you sneered at him.

"i don't care!"

"neither do i!"

"he told me it was a 'cadet who was capable'!"

you raised your eyebrows, offended. "you think i'm not capable?"

the instructor was now a great length of distance away from you. he tutted. "the ranking speaks for itself —"

you don't know what came over you, but your eyes flashed. blinded by red, you stomped over to him, furious and indignant, ignoring the look of panic flashing across his features.

"well let me speak for myself," you threatened, getting no where because he dashed away the second you uttered the final word. you contemplated running after him, but thought against it, already fatigued and breathless.

keith was going to give you an earful in the morning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"i thought you'd be tired."

"why?"

"you had training today, didn't you?"

".."

"..didn't you?"

"y/n —"

because exams had finished, the timetable had gone back to its usual, dull schedule, and jean, marco, and y/n were currently sitting in the classroom answering practice questions that had previously appeared in their exams. they weren't just any questions of course, only questions that that all cadets commonly got wrong.

"what did you do this time?" groaned jean, who had actually been focusing on the work for the first time. ever since the exams, there had been a new glint in jean's hazel eyes: you chalked it down to being a newfound determination to one-up marco on the list of rankings. because of that, during the classroom sessions (which had been revealed was his weakest) he would keep his head down and only look up to subtly join the conversation between you and marco, answer questions from the teacher, and — perhaps — insult you here and there.

you scowled, wishing that marco wasn't sandwiched in between you so you could kick him. the seating plan used to be different: you used to be placed in between jean and marco, but it had become clear that you and jean could not stop fighting, hence distracting the entire class and annoying your teacher. so, naturally, you had been forced to migrate to a different table, a different seat. this hadn't happened once, of course, because you had somehow managed to distract people everywhere you went. with little patience and a whole lot of tiredness, your teacher finally came to the conclusion that only marco could bring some form of peace between jean and you, which resulted in you reuniting with your friends, but marco separating you.

"i hate how you assume i'm to blame," you told him, brows closing in on each other as you leaned forward into marco's side to speak directly to jean.

jean lifted his pen up to continue writing, eyes trained on his question paper as he spoke. "because when is it not you?"

"now," you answered, irate, "honest!"

"i don't think she's lying," said marco, helpfully. "so what happened, then?"

you re-told the story in one simple sentence.

"he ran away from me."

you did not appreciate the way jean did not bother hiding his laughter. at least marco was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from even smiling, but jean made absolutely no effort to stop laughing. you had the inexplicable desire to scrunch up your own question sheet and throw it in his open mouth.

"only you," sputtered jean, barely recovering from his rude laughter, "only — you!"

the class had ended not long after, and as you all packed up ready for your break time, you noticed eren (who had been sitting a couple rows up in front of you) looking back and sending you weird looks. you'd seen him trying to catch your eye beforehand too, but ultimately ignored him. you had no doubt in your mind that it most likely had something to do with how you had gotten him into trouble the day before. had it been anyone else, they would have backed off by now, not try to annoy you even further. what will it take for this guy to learn his lesson?

you had been the first to finish packing up, standing behind your tucked in chair as you waited for your slow friends to hurry it up already. however, the drumming of your nails against your chair had come to a halt when your teacher had called out your name abruptly. you lifted your head just the slightest bit to show him that you were listening.

"commandant shadis has called for you."

quiet sniggering sounded around the room; jean had started it, which encouraged others to continue it.

"he's waiting outside for you."

good, you thought to yourself as you walked out of the classroom, thankful, because when he begins to shout at you, at least it won't be in the presence of everyone else.. excusing the fact that they would probably hear him regardless.

sure enough, there he was, standing in his usual straight posture that made him look as stiff as a board. he did not look too pleased, either (not that he ever did, to be fair).

"sir!" you stated, doing the usual salute, a closed fist over your heart with your other arm resting against your back.

"i'm going to ask you very politely," began keith, sounding as though he was containing himself like he would explode if he didn't at least try, "what the hell happened?"

would playing dumb work?

you supposed not.

you decided to stick to the truth.

"he ran away from me."

keith blinked, seemingly tired. you noticed something new about the look on his face, however, as if he wasn't at all too surprised with this information, as if he actually believed you without a doubt, something that he had never actually done before.

his hand came up, and you actually had to think whether he was going to strike you down in anger, but waiting for the blow was useless, especially when you saw that his hand was pressing against his own face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes tight, the lines pulling at each end of his eyes to emphasise his age.

after what seemed like ten dawdling years, the time in which people were now exiting the classrooms, he looked back down at you, sighing. "did he say anything before he ran?"

they never told me it was you i had to work with!

"yeah," you said, nodding. "he was quite rude, actually —"

"in the report he gave me," interrupted keith, exasperated, "he mentioned how you threatened him —"

"i have no regrets."

"WELL YOU SHOULD!"

you didn't know what else you expected but to be yelled at. you winced nonetheless.

keith sighed loudly, reminding you once again just how dramatic the male species was.

"i've found you a new trainer," he informed you firmly. "do not chase this one away, do you hear me? unless you want to end up back in the stables again for a longer period of time, cadet, i suggest you FIX UP!"

"so.. who's my trainer?"

"find out tomorrow, four in the morning."

"but —"

"ARE YOU DEAF?"

"already on my way there with how much you scream in my ear," you grumbled to yourself, walking away after giving him a much more lousier salute.

you hoped this new trainer would actually stick to being your trainer, whoever they were.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you were most definitely not an early bird by any means. if you had any opportunity to sleep in, you would take it without question. hell, even if you weren't allowed to sleep in, you'd do it regardless of the consequences. it had come to the point where a higher up would have to pour water over your face to get you up and running (there had been a time where you had pretended to be in a very deep sleep, even when it was pretty obvious that no one would be able to sleep through keith's bellowing).

but here you were, up and early, strict on four o'clock sharp as you paced up and down the training field. you had admired the stars merely five minutes earlier as you had nothing to do. perhaps this would have been a little more enjoyable if you were accompanied by jean or marco (you would never let jean know that this had ever come to your mind anyway — everyone knew his ego was higher than his ridiculous height). the mere thought of him made you want to spit on the poor ground.

but four o'clock sharp was definitely valued by your new trainer, a man you had never seen before. he appeared through the dark shadows of the trees that were illuminated by the light the moon gave off to create colossal shapes of blackness over the grass.

exhausted as you were (for you had woken up before four in the morning twice in a week now), you did not bother asking the man who he was, what his occupation at the training corps was, what he ranked during his time here. you simply could not be bothered to, fatigue shown in your face and body (your posture has never been more worse).

so, you went straight for it, asking him what he expected you to do and how to do it.

"so, teach, what am i doing first?"

he was a bit of a buzzkill, you had decided, for he quickly reprimanded you for calling him 'teach'. and not saluting, too.

"twenty push-ups!" he demanded, voice raised yet not loud enough to penetrate the walls hiding the area where the rest of the cadets were peacefully sleeping behind (you envied them so much).

but just because you were tired, that did not mean that you would stand for getting into trouble first thing in the morning (before regular training even begins, that had to be a world record, right?).

"i never did anything wrong, why should i do push-ups this early? i'm tired."

looking thoroughly surprised and irked, the man rose his bushy brow up to reveal the lines on his forehead. it looked like lined paper, and you had an odd sort of desire to simply write over it: buzzkill teach.

"pardon you?" the trainer coughed, brows furrowed to form a deep crease in between.

you froze.

had you said that line out loud?

judging from the stiffness of the man's body and the way in which he was now placing his hand over his forehead told you the troubling answer. you wanted to kick yourself. you apologised several times, but he was simply not having any of it. moments later, he ordered you to do five laps around the field. normally, you would groan and show your dislike for such a tiresome exercise, yet you felt terrible about that comment you had accidentally made, that you silently went for it without complaint.

not for long, though.

one and a half laps in and you were dying, throat constricting and lungs practically collapsing. your legs came to a stop, chest burning for air, heaving forward and back as you took in deep breaths. buzzkill teach had spotted your halt, and had several things to say about it.

he came forward, demanding that you start running again even if one of your legs fell off. he insisted that you leave it behind, even. well that sounded ridiculous to you, and you being you..

well you had to express it. you just had to.

"that's stupid," you stated. "if one of my legs get detached from my body, i'll sue you."

"you'll what?"

"sue you," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "did you not hear me the first time?"

"push-ups, NOW!"

"no."

you were growing really frustrated with buzzkill teach, particularly when he had begun shouting at you not even half an hour later for some reason.

"you think i wanted to be here?" he began, when you had refused to climb up a tree. apparently it was a survival technique or something. "i'm the only one that agreed to train you knowing that it was you, everyone else refused!"

you blinked up at him. "was that supposed to evoke sympathy from me?"

he let out a loud growl of frustration.

you were growing to dislike this man; you knew, deep down in your heart, that you were spiteful with people that you disliked (just look at keith). so, when he had revealed that the first thing you would be properly training for would be hand-to-hand combat -- seeing as he was 'scared' to let you approach odm gear for odm training -- you felt the light from the moon radiate against your skin, allowing you to glow with glee.

"don't do that," he said, as soon as he caught sight of you grinning. "it frightens me."

you tried stopping the curl of your lips, but it was simply inevitable.

you held so much dislike for this trainer of yours, buzzkill teach, that you knew you could vent it all out on HIM through hand-to-hand combat. he probably was not alerted of how good you were at it. although he was a professional (more qualified than you, that was for sure) you eyed his physique, and his mannerisms, and the way he behaved, and the odd stance he took before you fought him, and you knew that this one was certainly in the bag.

you won. of course you did.

and when he was on the floor, you did not stop, pulling him closer to you by the collar and narrowing your eyes at him.

"you look good with that black eye," you told him.

training ended very quickly after that, and when you waved goodbye to him, referring to him as buzzkill teach, he did not reprimand you for it at all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

keith was not happy with you the next morning.

still, he insisted that you wake up at four in the morning tonight, claiming that he had found a new trainer for you.

"are you pulling these trainers out of a hat or something? how do you find so many?"

"get out of my office."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

when your alarm had woken you up mercilessly, you felt groggier than usual as you secured your harnesses over your shirt and shoved your arms through the sleeves of your smooth jacket. it was only once you had passed your bedside table again to look for a hair tie, you knew just why: it took you several moments to realise the mistake you had made, blinking at the time that read 3:30am.

like a fool, you had set your alarm (by mistake) to wake you up thirty minutes earlier than expected, leaving you an extra thirty minutes to do absolutely nothing. that time, you realised, could have been best used for some extra sleep.

sighing to yourself in frustration, you aggressively shoved the hair tie into your front pocket, mentally noting how you would wear it once it was time to go out. right now, you had lots of time to spare.

eyeing your bed with a look of desire, you contemplated just lying back and resting your eyes, but decided not to in the end. you knew where it would lead you: in a deep slumber, snoring just like sasha was across the spacious room. you would kill to be in her position, face squished against the soft pillow and body hidden beneath the thick covers.

you became envious very quickly, and whilst you had been wallowing in your self-pity, you had lost track of time. the next time your eyes wandered over to your clock, all you five senses had become buzzed in alarm: it read 3:58am — it usually takes a bit around five minutes to make it down to the training field from the barracks.

jumping off your bed with little regard for the noise you were making (had sasha just turned over on her bed?), you dashed out of your room, heels smacking against the sleek wooden floors as you made your way down the corridor to the training field. perhaps if you took off sprinting, you would make it there in less than five.

heart pumping, with a new stitch forming in your mid-section, you leaned a hand against the wall outside, catching your breath. when you looked up groggily, you were sure your eyes were deceiving you. maybe you had somehow hit your head on the way down here, or maybe you were hitting the next stage of crazy, but was that your new trainer? the little man in the distance, looking irritated and as though he would want to be anywhere else in the world but here?

your husband, levi?

what was going on?

but you couldn't dwell on it any longer, because as you made your way closer and closer to him, he directed his infamous scowl towards you instead, a small crease formed in between his dark brows that were knitting together the longer his stormy, grey eyes were on you.

"you're late," he informed you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

really? you thought to yourself, unsure. "what time is it?" you asked, and you were thankful that your voice sounded steady despite the internal conflict going on inside your head.

he threw something at your chest which you (on instinct) grabbed with your hand, pulling it up to your face to examine. it was a pocket watch, and it read 4:01am.

you raised a brow at your lover, turning the pocket watch over so he could see what sight you had been previously met with.

"it's been a minute," you told him when he had remained silent.

he regarded you with little emotion. "a minute too late."

"it's one minute —"

"you're still late —"

"fashionably," you corrected, gesturing to your clothes.

the captain's eyes raked over your body, and you flushed despite yourself.

"the uniform is a requirement," he stated not long after.

you nodded. "fair point, but have you seen the way some of the cadets here wear it? it's all scruffy. what's their excuse when i'm up four hours before regular training and i still clean up nicely?"

he seemed too tired to even argue with you on that, opting to give you a dirty look instead. you smiled nonetheless, which he casually chose to ignore.

"you turn up even half a second late tomorrow, and i'm leaving you here alone. understood?"

you said nothing: he glared at you.

you still said nothing: he exhaled shortly.

"what's wrong with you? you need to take a shit or something?"

you shook your head.

"then what? hurry it up, we're already behind."

"you do realise that i sleep here, right? so you can't actually leave me behind if i choose to —"

"it's an order."

you shrugged. "i have free will."

he tilted his head sideways to regard you with a look of something between annoyance and tiredness. even without the light from daytime to help you decipher the calculating look on his face, you could still see the gears turning in his head, rotating as he stared not even at you, but as if he was staring straight through, directly through your own soul. if he wasn't who he was, you might have been a little intimidated.

"free will to disobey orders?" he challenged, not exactly pleased but not exactly harsh either.

you took this time to stall, slowly, leisurely, and steadily placing the pocket watch he had handed you in your back pocket. his eyes kept darting from you to something else, you could not tell what it was, but you hoped that he hadn't spotted you skilfully stealing.

he seemed to have decided that talking to you was a mere waste of time, for he promptly turned away and announced that you had to run three laps around the wide field as a warm up; you choked on your own spit.

"why aren't we starting with stretches?" you asked, startled. "we always start with stretches —"

"are you questioning my orders?" he interrupted icily. despite the fact that he was facing you, back against one of the colossal trees, it was as if he wasn't actually looking at you.

you exhaled, defeated. "no."

"no?"

"sir," you finished, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

perhaps it would be better to see the brighter side of things, like you usually chose to do. captain levi was not keith, so there would be no reason to defy his commands. furthermore, he was captain levi — you'd do whatever he asked even if it was to lick mud off his boot.

so, smiling, you spent the next twenty minutes or so running around the training field, the sky barely turning even a single shade brighter as you continued. every time you looked up, admiring the stars and the very precise placement of each one against the smoky clouds, you'd hear the captain bark at you to focus, he event went through the trouble of calling you an imbecile, too. how nice of him.

after half of the second lap was complete, your legs wobbled, and an annoying stitch was beginning to form at your side. had it been anyone else from the 104th, they would have continued running even if one of their limbs had fallen off, but you had more self-respect than anyone.

so you dropped to the floor, stomach flat against the concrete with your cheek resting against it. he wanted you to complete three laps? what a joke. you loved that man, truly, you did, but this was only proof that you needed to spend more time together. he clearly did not know you well enough as he truly believed that you were capable of completing that monstrosity of an order.

the concrete felt cool under your skin, a scarce contrast to how warm your body felt. if only you could just lie here forever —

but a force was now pulling your head up by your hair (and it was not gentle at all). before you could even let out a groan of protest, there was a voice in your ear, deep and familiar.

"what do you think you're doing?" captain levi demanded, harsh.

you shut your eyes, wanting to feel the coolness against your cheek again. however, when you tried to drop your head, you felt a sharp pain tug at the roots of your hair: the captain was still holding on for dear life, it seemed.

"i can't do it," you admitted, still trying to lower your head. "three laps is too much."

he did not miss a beat when responding. "and that's why you're nearly at the bottom of the ranking list."

you raised your head, turning to look at him with a frown. you had not realised just how close he had gotten, so when your eyes had lifted to stare up at his, you noticed how he had leaned back ever so slightly. even so, you replied as if you hadn't noticed.

"thirty-eight," you said, begrudgingly. "that's not near the bottom —"

"anything below ten is near the bottom," he declared, pulling on your hair as if to drill the thought into your head through painful discipline.

you yelped, a hand flying up to grab at his — which was extremely unrelenting, you had to add — to ease the pain. not even a second later, he loosened his iron grip, your hair slipping through his fingers as you dropped. you awaited the pain that would come when your skull crashed against the hard ground, yet it never arrived.

instead, your forehead met the soft palm of captain levi's hand, a protector, a barrier, even, between you and the concrete beneath you.

you laid there for a moment, unmoving. you expected him to leave you there, removing his hand, yet it seemed that he had no intention to, for he remained, perhaps for a minute or so, before slowly taking his hand back. slowly, maybe, to warn you that your head would be meeting the ground again: you raised your head to help.

"could have given yourself a concussion," you heard him say, and the sound of shuffling that filled the next few seconds of silence told you that he was standing now, now longer crouched over you, "idiot."

"i could have lost both my legs, actually," you corrected, staring up at him. he was glaring, as per usual. "and it was because of your order, making me run three laps —"

"which you haven't even completed," he interrupted, arms folded over his chest with a sneer on his face. "you have half a lap to go."

"but —"

"stop wasting time."

so, reluctantly, you got up, dusting yourself off (he tutted when all that dirt came flying off your clothes with each pat), and you completed the last half of your laps.. not without some scolding, though. every time you began skipping instead of running, he would make very.. creative.. violent threats about what he would do to you. on one occasion, you actually laughed when he said he'd break your legs and use them as blades for the coming-expedition.

isn't it just so cute when your husband wants to show you off to everyone? you thought so too.

the second you reached the finish line of your three laps, he could not let out a single syllable before you dropped again, spent.

"are we done yet?" you sighed, exhausted.

"it's only been.." he began, but paused, as if realising something. the scowl he wore the entire time you had been here had turned to something worse. "oi, where's my pocket watch?"

you tensed; you hoped he did not catch you looking guilty.

"i've got a stitch in my side," you complained, praying that he would not notice the way you were attempting to change the conversation and direct his focus elsewhere. "hey, can you give me a massage?"

"like hell," he scoffed, annoyed. "now give it back."

you sat up, legs outstretched and elbows holding your weight. you grinned.

"give what back?"

"you know what."

"really?"

"don't act stupid."

"it's not an act."

"i have never met anyone who proudly admits to being stupid."

"well now you have."

"shocker," he said, and something about the tone of his voice told you that he was finally giving up. "i'm so surprised it's you."

you observed his perfect face.

"i don't even know if you're being sarcastic or not," you revealed truthfully, lifting an arm up. he raised a brow at your hand but made no movement to touch it. "help me up?"

"no."

"buzzkill."

"what did you just call me?"

you laughed, at last deciding to stand up on your own.

"so erwin told me you're always so unbothered —" you told him, as if telling a story.

"when did you get time to speak to him? —"

"and hange mentioned how you basically never react," you continued as if you hadn't heard him, "and all it took was being called a 'buzzkill' for you to be offended?"

"no, you brat," he denied swiftly, "you refuse to give me back my pocket watch."

"i don't have it," you lied, looking over your shoulder dramatically. "it must've fell when you made me do those three laps —"

"are you blaming me?" he asked, as if challenging you to a verbal contest with a higher up.

you looked him in the eye. "karma's a real female dog."

his eyebrows actually rose up at that comment, the first sign of real emotion you had seen from him today.

"did you just state the definition of 'bitch'?"

"i don't swear," you answered, clearing the confusion if there had been any. "it's improper and not very lady-like."

one brow of his raised higher than the other.

"you care about being lady-like?" he questioned, as if it were something supernatural and unbelievable.

your brows began knitting together, looking up at the captain with offence.

"why wouldn't i?" you questioned, folding your arms over your chest.

but it seemed that the captain had no interest in indulging in such a conversation with you.. or indulging in any conversation with you, for his usual scowl deepened and his posture (if even possible) straightened further.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i've been told hand-to-hand combat is your forte."

"mhm," you hummed, nodding. "i've taken down guys that are much bigger than me."

"i don't doubt that," he replied, calm. "you already disarm people verbally."

you raised your brows.

"i don't know what that means."

"doesn't matter," he commented, "do you think you could handle fighting against me?"

you blinked, almost completely stupefied at the question. usually you were the one rendering people speechless with your questions and statements, so it had completely shocked you that you found yourself in that position other people were usually in: at loss for words.

you knew why you were hesitating, though, unlike everyone else who had once been in your shoes. captain levi wasn't that tall, though you could tell he had a nice build under all the clothes he was wearing, but size really did not matter, not when you (much smaller than reiner) managed to flip him over your back with ease. after all, facts quite literally prove that captain levi is humanity's strongest soldier. if size ever mattered, then the many titans he had managed to slay would have never been killed under his watch.

but, foolishly, you pushed the statistics at the back of your mind, smiling as you answered him.

"yes."

he raised a brow. and for once in your life, though you enjoyed the night in a way no one else could, you wished that it had been slightly brighter — you could have seen the look in his grey eyes, then.

captain levi thought to humour you for a bit. "what makes you so confident?"

you shrugged.

"i've only ever heard that you were good at fighting titans."

"you think you're a challenge after the titans?"

"no," you responded, "but you need odm gear to finish the titans off, don't you? hand-to-hand requires no weapons."

captain levi did not look impressed, nor did he look unimpressed with your response. he was a closed off book with a lock preventing any form of penetration, therefore you were unable to read him and understand what he means when he says such vague things, or even when he stands idly by, offering no reply to your thoughtful comments.

"ok," he settled on saying, his shoulders lifting slightly in what looked like a half-shrug.

and then you found yourself on the floor mere moments after he had declared that you fight him. you went easy on him, because there was no way you could actually bring yourself to injure your special man, yet it seemed that he did not hold the same regard for you.

"are you even trying?" he spat out, exasperated. "there's no way you were able to take down people that possess ten times your weight with that."

you were on your feet quicker than you had ever been. perhaps you ought to actually try this time.

"you didn't let me marinate my advances yet!" you complained, turning away from his watchful gaze. "i have to stretch before i do anything."

he kept his gaze set on your back, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "are you going to go out in the real world and tell your opponents to halt the fight just so you can stretch?"

whilst stretching your arm, you craned your neck over your shoulder to eye him blankly.

"why wouldn't i?"

he pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut, a crease forming between his brows where they closed in on each other, almost as if he had completely given up with you.

"stretch, then," he ordered, enervated.

when you were done stretching (the time in which you tried to gain his attention with more obscene movements — he did not go through the trouble of stopping himself when he asked if you keith had taught you those; you stopped angrily) you faced him once more, both of you taking your positions.

"ladies first," he had said, aloof.

"well apparently i'm not so lady-like, and you have very nice feminine features, so —"

he threw the first punch. it landed directly on your nose. you stumbled back, surprised.

"ow!"

but you had no time to complain, because he was charging at you again. you prepared yourself this time, grabbing onto his arm that swung at you with both hands and then kicking him in the stomach. he let out the smallest of grunts, which told you that you weren't doing too bad, before you went in for a second kick which he stop by grabbing your raised leg with his free hand.

there was only one solution then:

with both your hands occupied by that one arm of his, and your one leg held in his free hand, you decided you would bend yourself backwards so he would go flying over your top.

it worked, of course, but he had a swift landing, unlike everyone else you had competed with. that did not mean that he hadn't stumbled ever so slightly.

because he did. and then he turned around. and you knew what you would do then.

you ran at him, practically tackling him to the floor, and you landed on top of him, with a victorious look painted over your face when you caught sight of the baffled expression painted over his.

you straddled his hips, laughing at his startled face. you would have preferred it if his hands were placed on your hips, but instead, they were spread out on either of his sides, like the arms of a literal star.

you grinned. "did i win?"

the disconcerted look on his face had since then been replaced with a look of annoyance.

"no," he stated, putting emphasis on both letters in that single word.

you sent him a look of defiance. "that's not playing by the rules!"

"there are no rules," he shot back, visibly irritated. "now get off of me."

begrudgingly and reluctantly, you clambered off of him, sitting beside him as he sat up, dusting himself off.

"the floor is disgusting," he stated, grimacing. "you took me by surprise."

"no one's ever just.. floored you?" you asked, curious. he shook his head. "not very smart. it's my go-to move."

"why?"

"'cause the reaction is funny."

"well your hand-to-hand is fine."

"just fine?"

"don't push it."

"sorry."

he stood up, glaring at the floor.

"we don't have to work on that then."

and your heart dropped. it was the only part of training where you could actually find a reason to touch the captain without refusal. if you did not train for hand-to-hand, then you would not be able to touch him ever again.

a light bulb rose over your head, clicking on the second you had started planning. if you were bad at hand-to-hand, that meant that you had to keep practising regardless.

so just pretend to be bad at it.

"round 2!" you declared excitedly, standing up and placing both your hands on your hips.

captain levi had already decided what his thoughts were on that. "no."

"why not?"

"it's a waste of time, you already know how to —"

"one more time!" you pleaded, stepping forward. "one more time!"

and that was how you found yourself on your back, staring up at him with pain shooting up your spine. you did not play it lightly like you thought you would need to, because he was relentless either way.

captain levi clicked his tongue in distaste.

"you're doing it on purpose."

"huh?"

"i should've known."

"i'm confused."

"when are you not?"

you blinked up at him, baffled as your chest heaved up and down. nobody told you that the captain was that good at hand-to-hand, and now you had to pay the price, spine burning with pain and stomach flipped over in exhaustion.

he stood over you, the pool of grey in his eyes darkening in realisation.

"get up," he demanded icily.

"help me up," you shot back, lip curling.

his eyebrows rose, and for the first time, you saw the tiniest bit of emotion protruding from the man you knew to be void of any feelings. he scowled, eyes narrowing as he nudged your leg with his foot.

"are you aware of just how annoying you are?" he asked you, still as monotoned as ever.

you laughed, taking him by mild surprise.

"not annoying enough to have you ignore me, apparently."

and you noticed, with satisfaction blooming in your drained body, how he did not bother denying it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

i made my promise that i'd return in june, didn't i? :)

all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted into the story myself.

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask to be added):

you'd had good days in the training corps, contrary to popular belief (quite literally popular belief, for marco had once informed you that the cadets had had a conversation about how you probably suffered the worst of the wrath of keith). and today was one of them.

you were over the moon after your frequent training sessions with captain levi. it had been a week since the first one, and although sleep was dragging at your eyes, you had never been happier. you could spend a thousand years doing countless laps just to be in the presence of those dazzling, silver-grey eyes --

"oi, are you even listening to me?" a wretched voice distracted you, pulling you out of your partial slumber.

drowsily and groggily, you blinked several times, your vision having been previously blurred, now moving into focus to form the view of jean's scowl in front of you. you averted your gaze to your right where you found marco staring at you fondly -- you were all in the mess hall, eating breakfast before regular training began. 

"i'm still half asleep. excuse me for blocking out your dramatic monologue."

before jean could start on you (you had prepared yourself by sitting upright and narrowing your eyes at him defensively) marco had helpfully intervened, calming the usual tension between you all.

"she does more training than the rest of us now," he had informed jean with a shrug. "give her this one, will you?"

jean looked betrayed. 

"you're usually the one taking no sides here, what happened to that, huh?" he demanded, clearly offended. he turned his glare to you once more. "it was you, wasn't it? you probably bribed him under the table or something, you devil --"

"and how do you suggest i do that, huh?" you grinned, wriggling your eyebrows suggestively so that jean's initial point had flown out of the opened double doors and his face had paled notably. much to your amusement, marco had turned a pretty shade of pink as well, the poor boy. you concluded that this was all jean's fault, as per usual.

marco coughed, looking uncomfortable. you laughed, pushing your bowl to the side, a silent gesture for sasha to come and down the rest of your porridge like every morning (it was routine by this point).

"calm down, marco. i'm only interested in one man and it's not you," you revealed. you took note of the way marco was scratching the back of his neck. "it was a joke, buddy."

"that is why you should be siding with me," scoffed jean, after gulping down the rest of his water from his cup. "hope you've learned your lesson, marco."

"'hope you've learned your lesson, marco'," you mimicked, in an unusually deep voice. "do you ever shut up?"

instead of jean throwing his spoon at you, which you could see he was contemplating on doing -- judging from the way he aimed it directly at your forehead -- he frowned, brows furrowing and unclenching his jaw. 

"what, got something on my face?"

"yeah, a weird smile," he responded with disgust. "why are you doing that? it's creepy."

"her smile never hurt anyone," marco intervened kindly.

"it's scaring me --"

"shut your mouth you donkey --"

jean choked. "i preferred horse."

"yeah? well donkeys are uglier," you stated without a skip of a beat. 

"what?"

"guys.."

"you'd be looking at a mirror if you ever came across one --"

"WHAT?"

you stopped, biting your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at jean's face. now, he looked more like a donkey than ever. marco, despite trying to play peacemaker (once again), covered his smile with his cup, bringing it to his lips as if you weren't sitting right next to him, aware of it all. 

"you're not the prettiest flower in the field either, l/n --"

"well let's think about this!" you exclaimed, clapping your hands and then resting your chin on them, elbows standing on the wooden table for grip. you faced marco. "would you rather be a flower or a donkey?"

putting marco on the spot seemed to startle him. he glanced over at jean -- who might just have steam shooting out of his ears soon.

"don't answer that," jean ordered bitterly. "leave marco out of it --"

"alright," you nodded, silently agreeing with him for the sake of marco's comfort. you searched the rest of the table. "connie!"

the bald-headed cadet, who had the end of his spoon in his mouth to play a game with his porridge (flicking it up with the spoon and catching it again), looked up at you, alert.

"would you rather be a flower or a donkey?"

he didn't even try masking his confusion, but he answered nonetheless. 

"flower, obviously," he answered, as though it were the most apparent thing in the world. and then he went on a tangent. "i think i'd be a lily. they look sick. and it's probably the only flower i know from the top of my head, now that i think about it --"

"no, you'd be a dandelion," you counterargued calmly.

connie looked intrigued. "why's that?"

"one blow and it's got no petals."

everyone on that table had started laughing. it was only mina who attempted to mask her snickering with a hasty cough, bless her. 

"what?" connie questioned over the sniggering (the table next to you was now taking part in the laughter too). "what's so funny?"

"back to my original point," you said, turning back to your main two friends with a smile (jean looked too safe for your liking, joining in on the laughter as if he wasn't the root cause of it). "thank you for calling me a flower, jean!"

he gave you a dirty look. "it's a metaphor."

"well mine isn't a metaphor, but i know i look better than you, that's for sure --"

"not true --"

"that's why you can't pull anyone --"

"rich, coming from the girl who thinks she's married to the strongest man within these walls --"

"what's your point?" you demanded sourly.

"you're delusional," retorted jean, drawing out the letters with more length so it sunk in. "no one would listen to a girl that has quite literally lost it when she says that i can't pull --"

"well let's think about this!" you exclaimed for the second time that morning, smiling all too wide with an air of annoyance. 

jean groaned, giving a pointed look to marco for assistance; marco shrugged. 

you looked down the table again. 

"sasha!" you called out. sasha had been finishing off your bowl of porridge when she heard you say her name. "sasha -- do you think jean's good looking?"

"hey!" snapped jean, kicking your shin under the table.

you shrieked, immediately clutching your knee in pain. with a sharp glare at the culprit from across you, you raised your leg and kicked the bench he was sat on harshly. he nearly laughed, perhaps at how you 'missed', but hadn't gotten the chance to, before he found that the bench had slid from right beneath his bottom, and he had crashed harshly to the floor. everyone else on that bench merely moved the slightest inch, and then laughed at jean.

"you won't.. say something embarrassing after, will you?" sasha asked hesitantly. "like you did to connie?"

"yeah, just so you know, i know what you meant!" connie had intervened heatedly, glaring at you with his eyes narrowed. 

you barely regarded him. "pipe down, dandelion."

as he attempted to shout at the rest of the table laughing, you glanced back at sasha, shaking your head.

"connie's on my bad side, he knows that," you informed her, remembering how he had made fun of your attempt at a wink. "you're good."

"phew," sighed sasha, chuckling. "anyway, sorry jean, but you're not that good looking to me."

"whatever, potato girl --"

"cut it out!"

the arguing had continued on the table. marco eventually gave up trying to stop it when sasha and connie had gotten involved, and eventually, even reiner and bertholdt found interest in the debate going on. it was almost a surprise, for the two barely interacted with situations like these.

"i don't think looks matter at all that much," hannah diament added softly. as all heads had turned to her (seated at the very end of the table) she blushed. "i think that you have to get to know the person first --"

"ouch, franz, she basically just said that you're ugly," you muttered out from the corner of your mouth, eyes wandering about the ceiling dramatically.

hannah had begun sputtering out protests. "n-no! i didn't and i -- i wasn't even talking about franz!"

franz, who was sitting across from her, had covered his face with a hand. but from what you could see, his ears were pink. the two were way too close with each other on a daily basis. the whole corps knew that they were an item, yet they still felt the need to deny it all the same. 

"you were giving him heart eyes across the table!" connie accused her, placing his head in his hands and then forming a face which must've been a re-enactment of what he had seen. "i saw you!"

the rest of the table agreed, and even after the conversation had ended, hannah had found it necessary to still try and convince a few people that she was most definitely not talking about franz ("i swear, it was just my opinion!").

breakfast had ended not long after, and the cadets were called to stand out on the training field and line up accordingly. you position was situated in between armin and eren and across jean. this was not the usual schedule that the cadets had to follow, however, keith had ushered you all out of the mess hall, declaring that he had an announcement to make. 

no one was more curious than you, for keith was not a known enemy to them like he was to you. it was good to know your enemy's next move, their ideals, just any info on them. but nothing had prepared you for what you were going to hear today.

as the rest of the cadets were coming out of the hall, taking their places on the field, you made eye contact with jean, who seemed rather annoyed with you. you honestly did not care, you just needed someone to talk to.

"what do you think he's going to say?" you asked, voice an octave lower than usual.

jean did not respond; he chose to glare at you instead, his eyes glinting in a way that practically screamed at you to shut-the-fuck-up. how very impolite.

fine, you supposed armin would be open to having a conversation with you (you refused to start one with eren, the bastard deserved what he got). 

"armin, what do you think he's going to --"

"leave him out of it," snarled jean, who had finally decided to speak to you. "don't drag innocent people into your bullshit."

"bullshit?" you repeated, irate. "it's a harmless question!"

"can you guys stop talking?" the devil's spawn asked from your right. his green eyes flashed angrily, and although his question addressed both you and jean, those same eyes focused solely on you instead, as though jean was no longer in the picture. 

"why are you getting involved?" you shot back, doing the complete opposite of what eren had asked of you, voice growing louder with every word.

eren's brows had furrowed to the point where there was a deep crease in between them. "shout louder, why don't you?" 

"no, no, no, you idiot," jean spat out, eyes narrowing at eren menacingly. "you think she won't do what you just said?"

"wha--"

"'cause she will."

"i will," you agreed. "what, scared of getting in trouble again?"  you were attempting to indirectly refer to the last time you and eren had spoken (or barely spoken, in that case, seeing as you had not said a word to him when you had keith reprimand him).

"no," grumbled eren. "but i've got a bone to pick with you --"

"eren, i don't think we should be arguing here of all places," armin whispered from your left. bless him, he's just like marco, you thought to yourself, amused. "just do it later."

eren wanted to argue -- it seemed like it, at least -- but ultimately let out a breath through his nose in frustration, glaring ahead, his eyes being forced to land on poor mina, who looked confused as to why she was being targeted (the con of having been placed opposite the anger-management-child).

you mouthed 'don't worry about it' to her, which eren had seen from the corner of his eye, and you noticed how the fists placed behind his back had clenched notably. what an angry child. 

none of you had to wonder where keith was for too long, for his booming voice had penetrated the still air the moment you had begun looking around for him. you had tried to figure out what the hell he was planning through the tone of his voice, but it proved to be more difficult due to the distance between you and him: he was shouting from somewhere far behind you, walking up and down the lines, saying something that barely touched your interest. 

until it did.

"this isn't your usual routine, so things will get confusing!" he had said. barely of any relevance to you, clearly. he continued loudly. "but that is no excuse! i expect each and every one of you maggots to know what you're doing -- DO NOT EMBARRASS ME!"

you repressed the urge to scoff aloud. you're literally an embarrassment to yourself.

"now," he went on, undisturbed by you or anyone else who dared to even breathe properly around him, "in preparation for your graduation approaching in a couple of months, you will be trained on everything you've ever known and more with a particular expert! straighten your backs, scums, you look like worms with that awful posture!"

there was movement in the lines, almost like a ripple in water. you hadn't moved an inch. who the hell was he to tell you that your posture was bad? your back was as straight as the wires shot out of the odm gear. 

"you will continue to train as normal, only, through the eyes of captain levi, member of the scout regiment!"

now that moved you.

jean's eyes shot over to you as you visibly turned around, standing on your tip-toes to try and get a good look. the captain was shorter than average, of course, and you weren't excelling in the height department much either, making it more difficult for you to see over the heads of those tall bastards behind you. unlucky for you, it was bertholdt who was placed directly behind you. it's as if..

it's as if keith placed you in that line-up position because he knew. 

he knew damn well what he was doing, saying his speech at a faraway distance where you knew captain levi probably was.

that bald homewrecker --

you could actually scream in frustration. 

"turn around, you fucking dingbat!" jean hissed, voice low but holding every bit of venom it would carry even if he spoke at his usual volume. "oi! listen to me!"

"leave me alone," you squabbled back, waving a hand at him without actually looking at him. "can you see him though? you're tall, jean, where is --"

"i'm not helping you, knucklehead."

"ugh, you're such a chicken."

so when jean did not help you (and you would never swallow down your pride and ask for eren's help) you turned back around and placed your fists against your back again, disappointed. today, you vowed to yourself: you will see him again, and he'll train you specifically. 

"you literally saw him this morning."

"shut your mouth, you donkey."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you saw him.

but he was watching other people. he wasn't watching you, like he should be doing.

is that seriously how it's going to be right now? while you work your butt off with your dear friend marco, he was going to pay attention to other people?

the fake knife in your hand you had disarmed from marco only moments ago was now the centre of your thoughts. if you could just jam it directly into your chest, maybe then he'd pay attention to you, the little shrimp.

"y/n, don't get distracted again," marco told you gently, whilst you threw the knife at him (he caught it easily with one hand). it was his turn, again, to try and stop you from disarming him. "i'm sure he has his reasons."

"you look for the good in anybody," you reminded your friend, bitterly. "there is nothing good about this -- ah!"

marco, the sly devil, used your distracted state to his advantage by jamming the knife forward in an attempt to hit your chest. you bent back into a bridge to dodge, and then flipped yourself backward to straighten yourself up in surprise.

"that was low, marco."

he shrugged, chuckling. "i did what i had to do."

"you're just as bad as him," you told him, as if expecting him to drop down to your feet and kiss them, begging for your forgiveness. "both you and jean." 

"i never thought i'd see the day where you put me in the same category as jean," replied marco, smiling that innocent smile.

you raised your brows at him, folding your arms over your chest in disappointment. "neither did i, but people can surprise you."

marco thought for a moment, silent as he gazed at the floor, before surprising you when he looked back up.. not exactly at you, but staring at something behind you, eyes wide.

"what's wrong wi--"

"he's looking!" he alerted you.

you stared at marco, snatching the opportunity to impress captain levi as you straightened up, mouthing a 'what?'. and when marco nodded frantically, you did what you had to do. rapidly, you used your two hands to grab the arm where the knife was held, slid underneath it to pin his arm behind his back as he bent forward in response. you took the time to quickly knee him in the chest, which caused the grip on the knife to fall as he throws it up in the air (presumably for him to catch). you don't let him, releasing him from your grip and kicking him to the ground, hurriedly extending an arm to catch the knife successfully. 

you spun on the spot, breath heavy as you eyed the captain..

who wasn't even looking your way.

you glared at the ground, before slowly turning to stare at your friend on the floor, who was gripping onto his side in pain. 

"you lied to me?"

"what?" gasped marco, his kind, freckled face now overcome with confusion. "no! he -- he really was looking --"

"don't lie to me!" you snapped, throwing the knife at him and stomping your foot in anger. "i did all of that for nothing."

"traitor," marco had the audacity to say, as he sat upright and reached for the knife. 

you shrugged, grinning at him. "i did what i had to do."

marco smiled. "typical."

you and marco continued to train together, occasionally glancing back at the moody captain every few minutes, and you yourself felt as though your husband was starting to rub off on you: no longer were you the bubbly and bright person you were that very morning. now, you were just as grumpy as him, and he was the root cause of your sudden change in mood. in your own mind, you believed that even if you were the same now, you were still made for each other.

less than half of an hour had passed by, and it seemed that keith was now copying you in being aggravated. you grit your teeth together as he shouted for everyone's attention. of course, you thought, eyes narrowed at the bald man making his speech, in order to steal captain levi's heart, you have to become just like his wife. well, you decided, as you listened in, keith was smart for that one, though this was unusual for his game-plan. 

you shrugged it off: he could never be you.

"i'm tired of the same old partners!" he called out roughly. "you won't learn if you don't battle with someone different!"

there were murmurs following his comment, but no actual movement. that aggravated him even more.

"well what are you waiting for, you bunch of sloths? SWITCH!"

several people jumped up at his demand, and immediately, all of the pairs began forming one big huddle, people picking different partners obediently. not you, of course. you still wanted to be with marco. 

"where the hell do you think you're going?" you snapped at him when you saw him standing up and turning away. "you're my partner."

marco scratched the back of his head, smiling at you. it was a mask, you knew. marco always followed orders to the best of his ability. 

"you heard commandant shadis," he said, his voice smooth like water. "he wants us to change partners."

"i still want to be yours!" you remarked, annoyance seeping from your harsh tone. 

marco laughed at you. this guy even had a gentle laugh, too. what was not so innocent of him? marco didn't have a single bad bone in his body. 

"i want to be your partner too, but we can't, y/n," he told you, gesturing to the movement of people around you. "i'm sure you'll find someone better than me anyway. i've had my ass handed to me multiple times now --"

you tried catching the eyes of people passing by, but it almost seemed as though people were purposefully avoiding you. you rolled your eyes, raising a brow at marco.

"all right, whatever," you said, yielding at last. "i hope someone else beats you up better than me."

marco raised his eyebrows, looking as though that could not be farther from the truth. "you're the best at hand-to-hand, y/n. i doubt that." and then he walked away, finding a new partner, one who you recognised to be milieus zeremski. 

you shrugged, turning away. was that the reason why people were avoiding you? it wasn't quite like you to wallow in silence wondering about it. so, naturally, you spoke up, of course. 

"hey," you caught mina's arm. she turned to you with a smile, and you hurried to finish off your question. "why's everyone avoiding me?"

mina's eyes widened and you were now swallowed whole by the soft black in her eyes. 

"oh," she began, chuckling quietly. "well, it's kind of a good reason, if you ask me. everyone knows you're good at close combat, so no one really wants to bare the brunt of your anger. speaking of, are you all right? i've noticed that you aren't quite as happy as you usually are."

you smiled back at her in an attempt to be polite. mina has never annoyed you, and the two of you usually met up with a couple of other few girls before bed to have a comfortable chat. 

"i'm fine, but captain levi is pissing me off," you grumbled.

"i'd ask why, but i'd better find a partner for myself," she responded, looking around. "good luck though!"

and then she walked away, leaving you staring after her, deep in thought. perhaps there was something good out of not having a partner... a plan was forming in your head, and maybe it was obvious, because even as jean walked past you, he made sure to comment on it.

"stop making that thinking face and find a bloody partner!"

he was lucky you were too busy thinking, otherwise you would have marched over to him and given him a black eye to sport for the entire week (and more). 

ignoring him, with an even more irate expression on your face, you thought to yourself carefully. if you had no partner, the attention would be on you -- specifically the attention of a certain someone. someone who had been neglecting you lately. the plan was perfect! all you had to do was make sure everyone stayed away from you (not a problem there) and then not only would he have no choice but to pay attention to you, but if you were lucky, you could also manage to be partners with him, captain levi!

part a of the plan was working: people were avoiding you. you waited for a bit, standing in the centre of the huddle, making no movement to search for a partner. it pleased you how, at the same time, this would be defying keith's orders too; a bonus point. 

until you heard someone call out to you, the voice distant and far.

"hey, y/n!"

just ignore it, you thought to yourself, the rhythmic beat of your heart speeding up and becoming less in tune with your breathing. it'll go away, it'll go -- 

"y/n!"

the voice was closer.

"y/n l/n!"

the voice was clearer.

"l/n!"

the voice was masculine.

"i'm talking to you!"

the voice was right behind you.

now you were angry.

you turned around, jaw clenched and brows furrowed deeply, staring up at the culprit. you couldn't believe it. had he still not learned his lesson?

eren jaeger.

you could actually gauge out his eyes in frustration. why wouldn't he just stop being so nosy? stop being so annoying? stop being so bothersome?

"get away from me," you demanded, making a move to walk away.

and the boy.. oh this boy.. he had the nerve to pinch at the sleeve of your jacket to stop you.

the worst possible scenario for your plan, because now it looked as though you were partners. eyes darting to captain levi, your blood boiled when you saw that his attention was elsewhere. slowly but surely, you turned your head to glare daggers at the brunette tugging at your sleeve. you ripped your arm out of his grip and gave him one of the dirtiest looks you could muster.

"don't ever touch me again."

eren did not take this lightly. "you were ignoring me, what did you expect?"

"can you just stay away?" you shouted, indignant. "now's not a good time!"

"i have to ask you something," he continued as if he hadn't heard you.

"go away!" you hollered, almost desperately. "ask me another time, okay? just. go. away."

he followed you like a lost puppy even as you began walking away, hoping to create some distance. you nearly contemplated running.

you stopped walking in annoyance and he nearly bumped into you when you stood your ground. you glared up at him.

"why can't you just listen?" you whispered, voice shaky with spleen. you had now resorted to using hand movements to prove your point. "why do you have to be so nosy? why can't you just bother someone else? WHY?"

eren was persistent despite your anger and your demands. "why did you get me in trouble with the commandant the other day?"

you stared at him in actual disbelief. of all the things he could have asked, it had to be a question as dumb as that? this very question was about to tarnish your plans, and it couldn't have waited? he couldn't have waited for a better time to ask, like you basically promised? 

if you were angry before, then lord knows what you were feeling now, because you were seeing red.

"l/n!" keith yelled at you as he drew closer. "who's your partner?"

you took in a deep breath. just in time, you thought to yourself, and then jabbed a finger in eren's chest without even looking at him.

"him," you answered, voice low. "he's my partner."

eren had no time to protest before keith shouted at the two of you to begin the sparring by standing in your starting positions and getting into formation. 

and that was how eren found himself on the floor (he put up a good fight, better than most, you must say) with you above him, panting with each punch you gave him.

"why --"

punch.

"-- won't --" 

punch.

"-- you --" 

punch.

"-- learn --" 

punch.

"-- your --" 

punch.

"-- lesson?"

when you paused to catch you breath, eren took the moment to fight back, flipping you over with him looming over you. his expression was something that you had never seen before. 

all right, perhaps that was a lie. you had seen it before, but it had never actually been directed at you. usually, jean was at the receiving end of that look -- his brows knitting so close together, a deep crease formed in between them; his teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the point where a vein was actually bulging at his neck. 

"WHY DID YOU GET ME IN TROUBLE?" he demanded, apparently furious at your ignorance to his question. 

you immediately gagged, recoiling back and turning your head sideways. 

"god, what the hell did you have for breakfast?" you choked out, your nose abused by the rancid smell that had protruded from his mouth. 

he might have been angry, but you were angrier. 

without another second to waste (the time in which his anger was slightly masked over with a look of confusion) you brought your hand to the back of his neck and forced his head to clash against yours. he let out a loud yelp and you took over, securing your place over him once more. 

your punches resumed, attack after attack, and you did not even think to stop. not even when you noticed, from the corner of your eye, how people were focused on you and your fight (perhaps they had been watching the entire brawl, perhaps only you had noticed them now).

and even when eren barely fought back, you continued.

"i --" he uttered between punches, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, "concede!"

and still you did not stop. 

in fact, you gripped onto his short, brown hair and pulled his head up with it, slamming it back down every time you said a new word.

"you --"

slam.

"-- tarnished --"

slam.

"-- my --"

slam.

"plan!"

slam.

"l/n," you heard keith call out, somewhere far back in your mind, perhaps, because his voice sounded low through the ringing in your ears. "did jaeger say he concedes?"

you didn't answer, but eren did.

"i conce--"

"shut up!" you snapped, and placed a hand over his mouth to prevent him from completing his sentence. 

"L/N!" keith all but bellowed at you. his voice was clearer now, probably because of how loud he was being. "GET OFF OF THE BOY NOW!"

there was a dull ringing in your ears and all you could focus on was beating the brunette to a pulp. he deserved it for how nosy he had been: perhaps this would teach him a lesson. stop sticking your nose in places where it shouldn't be, otherwise you'd get it beaten into your face by y/n l/n.

well, he could stick his nose in business that did not belong to you, you didn't mind that of course.

but seriously, had it been anyone else, they wouldn't have found the need to actually go up to you and ask you why you did what you did. you thought it was obvious? for example: connie, who you had publicly embarrassed for publicly embarrassing you with your failed attempt at a wink; jean, who you had managed to get sent to the stables as punishment for not helping you when you were in trouble with keith. 

eren was no different, he did not get special treatment.

he got you in trouble with keith, so you would get him in trouble with keith in return. there was no genius needed to figure that out, and if he so desperately needed one, armin was practically the leader of geniuses. why did he choose to confront you? you made it crystal clear that he could ask his question another time, that now was not a good time, that he should go and bother someone else for the time-being. 

but no. he just had to be so persistent. so stubborn.

when you made no move to get up, the higher ups had taken it upon themselves to stop you. rough hands had slid around your waist and pulled you up, dragging you away from the poor brunette, whose chest was heaving up and down with each breath he took, looking as though he had just survived a bear attack: dishevelled and fatigued. 

you, in question, were the bear: your own hands gnawing at the pale ones tightly gripping your abdomen, your eyes practically glinting red, and the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your skin. you did not know who the person dragging you away was, but whoever they were, they were nex--

"oi, stop fighting," his voice came out harshly against your ear. 

you complied. 

your eyes met his, lost in the pool of grey that were glinting in a way that made them look almost silver-like.

did you say that he was next? 

no, that was a mistake -- you would never say that.

not to him, at least.

even though you had stopped struggling against his iron-like, tight grip, captain levi still found the need to continue to pull you away from the training sight. you were going to question when he was going to stop, until you realised that he already had -- you were the one holding onto his arms now. 

he didn't even say anything, but you did not need to look back at him to know that he was probably scowling at your action.

"this is ni--"

"let go of me."

"yes, sir."

you dropped to the ground after releasing your grip. he did not bother helping you up, but you did hear him sigh when you made no move to get up. you looked over your shoulder at him, chin tilted high into the air, a hand hovering over your brows to shield your sensitive eyes from the bright sun.

he was pinching the bridge of his nose, looking stressed. you would murder whoever made your husband so stressed out, you promised this to yourself. 

"what's wrong with you?" he demanded out of no where.

when your features only moved to form a look of confusion, he felt the tiring need to clarify.

"when your opponent gives up, you stop anything else you plan on doing."

"oh i know that," you stated with a smile. did the captain really think that you were not aware of that?

"which concerns me even more," he said, rubbing his forehead exasperatedly. he regarded you crossly. "get up."

you did as you were told, even taking care to salute once you stood up. there was, however, one thing that was stirring up in the pit of your stomach. it was an aching feeling, something that you had never felt before. 

the time of its arrival was significant, too. you had just noticed that due to eren's actions (the constant pestering, as annoying as it was) captain levi had paid more attention to you, more than he originally would have if eren had just left you alone.. and the poor boy.. you had beaten him to an extent where he actually chose to concede. what made it worse was the fact that eren jaeger barely ever gave up. you had driven him to the point where he just had to.

you snuck a glance at him: he was being comforted by armin and mikasa, both of whom had gotten a scolding from keith for not focusing on their own training. you didn't understand them, for if it had been jean who had gotten quite the beating from one of your classmates, you would have stood there and laughed. 

but, arguably, you wouldn't have done that for marco. see, for marco, you'd have done what armin and mikasa were doing for eren. now you understood.

"what, feeling guilty now?" captain levi coldly interrupted your thoughts. you didn't respond, the guilt causing you to be rendered speechless for the first time in a while. "you should. the kid looks like he came out of a war because of you."

"i --" you began, your salute now softer in your hesitation. "i just got a little angry, he was bothering me!"

"you get as good as you give."

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"oh, i'm surprised you understood that."

"i didn't."

"never mind then."

you thought about it for a moment and then scowled at him once it clicked. was he insinuating that you were bothersome, and therefore eren (as some form of stupid karma) was being bothersome to you? 

"wait --"

"no," said captain levi, firm. "get back on the field."

but really, the whole reason why eren got such a vicious beatdown was because you thought his persistence caused some disturbance in your plan for getting the captain to notice you. so you didn't actually want to leave and return to the training field.

"but who's going to be my partner?" you questioned, trying to sound innocent.

captain levi folded his arms over his chest, but did not respond to your question. after a good ten seconds of him simply staring at you (perhaps the more accurate word would be 'glaring') he caught the attention of the rest of the cadets. 

"your combat needs a little work," he called out to everyone, looking mildly disappointed. "but we can't work on it for as long as i initially wanted to. unfortunately, some people can't control themselves."

you almost choked on your own spit. you had been standing behind him, tall and poised, nodding along to everything he had been saying. until, of course, that last line. you stared at the side of his face, outraged and offended. was that a jab at you? publicly, too? 

you didn't care that you looked visibly stupefied by what he had said. you didn't care that everyone was now staring at you with amusement. what you cared about was why your husband was acting the way he was. what had gotten into him? was that comment really necessary? 

that horrible comment, meant to clearly reference you, might give keith the opportunity to sneak his rancid self into your closed relationship. in fact, he was probably conjuring up some mini plan in his head right now, and it was all because of your soulmate. perhaps you needed to have a chat with him sooner or later about the way he spoke about you. you weren't at all impressed with his behaviour.

"get the odm gear out," captain levi ordered loudly. "we're moving onto the manoeuvring gear training."

he looked over at you, his infamous, neutral expression plastered over his face as he watched you carefully. 

"what, are you no good at it?" 

perhaps you had been looking rather disappointed -- you felt like it -- otherwise he wouldn't have felt the need to ask such a thing. you raised your brows at him, straightening up immediately and shaking your head.

"'course not," you denied, because it was still true. 

you weren't bad at using the gear at all. you were good, just not as good as, say, mikasa. she was an absolute monster with it. you will never forget the time you had suggested playing tag. the memory of it made a shiver run down your spine. 

"i just like hand-to-hand better," you answered, trailing along behind him as he walked further on, heading for the trees where the gear is best used. "can't we do more of that?"

"you're bold," he said, voice laced with chagrin, "to even suggest that when you're the reason i had to stop it."

"you didn't have to stop it completely," you said with a frown. "keith usually puts me on a time-out when i do something he doesn't like. everyone else just continued."

"keith?" he repeats, his eyebrow twitching as he looked down at you, stopping before the first tree you guys had been met with. 

you almost did not understand what he was getting at, before his gaze hardened and you remembered one of his first orders he had given you. refer to keith as commandant shadis. 

"i mean.. commandant shadis."

"right," said captain levi, continuing on with his walk. 

you followed on after him, keeping close to him even as more voices and footsteps could be heard somewhere far off behind the two of you. when you turned to see, the rest of the cadets were passing down the gear, securing it on each other as they walked into the woods simultaneously. perhaps it would have been a better idea to do the same, leave the captain on his own to wear the gear and prepare yourself, but you just.. did not want to. and that was a good enough answer for you to continue walking alongside the captain.

"never heard of a time-out being a punishment before," he commented vaguely. 

"during the gear training, he usually makes me sit on the tallest tree branch and just watch everyone else," you told him, almost as if you were telling off of your arch-nemesis. 

"that's why you don't want to train?"

you shrugged. "call it trauma."

"you're using the gear," the captain told you in a there's-no-argument type of way. he stopped, turned, and looked down at you as everyone began catching up to the both of you. "you'll be the first if you keep protesting."

"what? why? i already used the gear this morning. with you."

"i'm aware," said the captain. and then he walked past you, taking a spare manoeuvring gear out of a large box held by reiner (no surprise, he was, arguably, the strongest out of you all) and held it out to you. "you're up."

people had now surrounded the area you were standing in: deep into the woods, with lots of trees and space to move around simultaneously. it was perfect for the use of odm gear. 

you slowly took the gear from his hands, examining it for scratches, dents, or random breakage. the last thing you needed was to fall off the trees and die from the use of a faulty wire or something. 

"but i don't have a gas cylinder," you tried reasoning, even as you secured the straps over your chest and the ones behind your knees. 

"don't worry," the captain responded, going as far as to even help you with the ones you could not reach: your back. you felt him swat your hair away, tightening even the ones you had done yourself for extra precaution. "i've heard that your own gas is a great substitute, fart girl."

your jaw dropped (as did everyone else's). you were absolutely mortified as you turned your head ever so slightly to look back at him. unlike everyone else (all of whom were now stifling their chuckles and giggles) he remained unfazed. and despite that comment that made heat rise to your cheeks, he still handed you a gas cylinder to attach to your side. 

embarrassed, angered, and absolutely petrified, you could not even register the fact that he was expecting you to take the cylinder from him, for you were too shocked to even think straight. this was embarrassment to a point that you had never actually experienced before. everyone knew about the situation where you had been rather confident in releasing your own gas, but you had assumed that they would have forgotten: no one had mentioned it for quite some time.

until now. 

and it was all because of your uncontrollable husband.

ex-husband, now, because as much as you loved him, this was crossing the line.

leisurely, you took the cylinder from his extended hand and stared down at it. you could barely concentrate as the laughter from your peers travelled to your ears in a manner that was not very graceful. traitors, they were -- the lot of them.

now you definitely did not want to use the gear. you held the cylinder up as if to hand it back to the captain.

"i can't do it," you told him, your nerves spiralling inside you.

he looked as though he did not believe you, which made sense, of course. if you were him, you wouldn't have believed yourself either, not when he had watched you fly around with glee early that very morning. 

i have to lie, you decided in your mind. there was only one issue, however. although lying was your expertise, lying whilst racked with nerves is not. you either stumbled over your words or lied about something that was not relevant to the topic.

"why not?" said captain levi, looking sceptical. 

everyone was silent now (save for the occasional snort here and there).

"because i did odm training tomorrow so i don't need to do it yesterday," you answered, barely taking a breath before attempting to undo your front straps.

there was silence. if it hadn't been daytime, you were sure there would have probably been cricket noises here and there.

"what is she even saying?" you heard connie call out, and you had to physically restrain yourself from shooting your wires deep into his chest. 

"well don't look at me," shrugged jean, sounding defensive. when you followed the sound of his voice, you saw that he was leaning back against a tree with marco, who was looking startled. 

if the earth could just swallow you whole, you'd be extremely grateful. you had to leave. you just had to. there was no way you could ever show your face to these people ever again. maybe you could leave and change your identity: from y/n l/n to n/y n/l, from female to elamef, from 20 years old to 02 years old. whatever it be, you had to leave. 

so you tried to. 

you took a step forward, but barely made it any further than that before you felt your head being tugged back by some type of force -- captain levi had pulled you back by your hair.

"not so fast," he said, barely moved by your actions. it was almost as if he had predicted it. "fix your straps and attach the damn cylinder. you're up."

you swallowed down on nothing, trying to ease yourself. you could barely register the crunching of twigs and leaves growing closer to you -- marco had taken it upon himself to help you fix the straps you had undone. 

as you stared up at the trees, you felt him politely take the gas cylinder out of your own hands and slowly attach them to your gear. his face was right beside your ear, keeping his voice low when he took the opportunity to speak. 

"stop scheming," he murmured, and you were certain that nobody but you could hear him. you did not question what he meant, although he felt the need to clarify. "got that look on your face.."

you had no idea what look he was talking about, but you could not deny the fact that (in truth) you really were conjuring up a plan in your head, figuring out the steps and the advantages you'd have with the position of the stagnant trees. 

anytime someone would use the gear to fly up and above, they'd move forwards, using their advanced speed and agility to reach the finish line where another higher up would be standing. since keith was not around, you concluded that it would probably be him. but if you wanted to leave, you could just turn the other direction and go backwards instead..

you bit back a smile.

besides, it was not as if anyone could chase you down without the captain's permission: you'll be long gone by then. 

as marco tested the strength of the gear for you, rattling and shaking it with all his might, you found that it was secure on you, less likely to break. you smiled at him as he took a step back, whispering out a 'good luck' before taking his place against the tree next to jean again, being so positively encouraging as to give you a thumbs up for extra measure. 

"you finally ready?" your ex-husband asked. 

you did not bother answering him, and turned away, digging your feet into the ground as you gripped onto your blades.

"hey, why're you facing that way --"

too late. you had already clicked the top trigger, firing your anchors into the nearby trees before you clicked the bottom trigger to fire out your compressed gas. 

and up you went, the rest of the captain's sentence trailing off into nothingness the higher up you went from the ground. 

the force of the flight against gravity resulted in the wind forcing your hair back as you continued to shoot out your anchors, flying in the opposite direction to make it back to the main base. you could hear people yelling after you, their demands that you return dying out the more you moved. you laughed loudly, which might have been a mistake seeing as the wind you were pushing yourself against flew right into your open mouth. 

you closed it immediately, but still found yourself smiling as you flew through the woods. this is what they got for underestimating you, for making fun of you. the thrill of using the gear to defy physics was already feet-tingling as it was. however, adding more thrill to it by opposing the rules made it feel even better, like you were on cloud nine with all the excitement. 

exhilaration had never felt better.

until you heard his voice somewhere behind you..

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the captain watched after you with lazy eyes. 

it had shocked him at first, he wouldn't deny it. he genuinely thought that he had you under control at this point. 

he was wrong.

though he couldn't say that it surprised him too much, now that he was really thinking about it. he hadn't realised just how sneaky you were, far sneakier than any cadet he had ever encountered. it was clear that you had no shame, which was probably the reason why you were able to do things usual people could not. he could barely tell if you were actually embarrassed by the new nickname he had given you.

and new nickname it was, for your fellow classmates were now addressing you by it.

"look at fart girl go!" 

"only fart girl would do shit like this."

"do you think fart girl did that on purpose?"

there was only one place you could be heading for -- back to the main training field, straight to your dorm. captain levi had been so preoccupied with thinking about what the hell he should do about you, that he had not realised the silence that had consumed the rest of the cadets he was no responsible for. 

he stared at them, eyes particularly focused on the two boys that he knew you were tight with. both were tall, one significantly taller than the other, with lighter hair and a longer face. the other boy had soft freckles decorating his features, a softer look about him. 

the main factor that the captain had caught on to (which made them different to the rest of the cadets staring up at the sky in awe) was how unsurprised they seemed. it was almost as if they had expected nothing less from you. 

the boy with the freckles caught the captain's eye, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with a smile.

"er -- permission to go after her, sir?" he asked, in an almost tentative manner. 

captain levi looked back up at the trees. "permission denied," he said, though not unkindly. 

he seemed to be thinking to himself. this training session had not gone to plan. and it was all because of you. you were really beginning to become an itch on his side, one that he could not quite seem to reach. a headache, even. and usually, he would be able to cure it with a simple cup of tea. you were proving to be as difficult as keith shadis had mentioned.

"any volunteers to go up next?" he asked, looking around at them all. and then he exhaled through his nose. "and if it's not clear enough already, you move that way." he pointed to his right. 

in the end, an enthusiastic, green-eyed boy jumped up at the opportunity to prove himself. it was only after a couple of seconds of light staring did he realise that it was the very boy that you had savagely beaten. the captain thought he had a staring problem, for the boy had an odd sort of attachment to the wings of freedom etched upon his uniform. perhaps he was another one that wanted to join the regiment of literal death.

while the boy adjusted his gear, captain levi addressed the rest of them.

"training's no different. you'll take turns after you hear the commandant's call that he's reached the end. you'll be timed," he instructed, mind half distracted. "and you," he added, talking to the green-eyed boy. "when you get to shadis, let him know that i've got to deal with a rogue cadet."

the boy raised his eyebrows.

"rogue cade--"

"he'll know exactly what i mean."

despite looking slightly confused, the green-eyed boy simply shrugged, planting his feet into the ground. the captain searched his pockets, before sighing in frustration at the realisation of something that (surprise-surprise) you had been the cause of. resisting the urge to simply take off and tackle you, he called out to the rest of the cadets.

"anyone have a pocket watch?" he asked exasperatedly. 

if one of them did, perhaps you'll be safe. 

if none of them did, however... well it's a good thing that you had a head start.

you got lucky: a girl with pigtails stepped forward with a shaky smile and handed the visibly annoyed captain her own pocket watch. he took it from her, nodding when she saluted and returned to her position in between a tall, dark-haired boy. he stared down at the pocket watch in his hands. how was he supposed to monitor wherever the hell you had flown off to and time the cadets at the same time?

"you," he said suddenly, walking towards a short, blonde, blue-eyed boy who had been looking displeased with the practical training (the captain had eyes everywhere). 

the boy immediately perked up, straightening his back and saluting, eyes wide at being addressed by a higher up. 

"sir!" he squeaked, seemingly surprised.

"at ease," said captain levi, aware that shadis was probably beginning to get impatient now. he extended his arm, the hand attached to it presenting the other girl's pocket watch. "you look capable. time them like usual. i have business to attend to."

the boy looked hesitant, but did not look as though he would suggest an alternative option as he took the pocket watch and nodded. 

"i'll be back soon," he stated loudly, his voice laced with authority. "so don't mess around."

and he took off, trailing after you without another word.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

perhaps you shouldn't have stopped at a tree branch to rest your legs. the adrenaline rush nearly had you lose control in your moment of exhilaration.

you didn't know it yet, but the captain was after you. not that it mattered too much, of course. you were wise enough to go deeper into the woods than to simply go for the main base -- it was merely a resting point. you'd go back to moving soon anyway.

you had taken it upon yourself to rest on the highest tree branch possible, legs outstretched and back flat against the ongoing tree trunk. nobody would find you here unless you wanted to be found, and after that round of embarrassment, you certainly did not want to be found. with not only being higher up than it was actually allowed (unless you were told to sit in time out) your small form was obscured behind several leaves and branches, hidden away like a prized gift. 

from that high up, everything looked so small. bushes that you knew were rather wide and difficult to get through looked as though they were nothing more than several obstacles for an ant. 

maybe it's time to get a move on now, you had thought to yourself calmly as you secured the straps on your knees and adjusted the gas cylinder on your side. you would never forget the time daz's gas cylinder slipped out of its small case during flight; everyone had been considerably more careful since then, including you, as reckless as you were.

you nearly tumbled out of your standing position on the tree branch when you heard a loud shout of your name. and it wasn't just any shout...

"L/N!" captain levi practically bellowed from somewhere far away.

no... you thought, alarmed. that didn't make sense. he wasn't allowed to leave the cadets unsupervised. was he not supposed to be busy with timing everyone? was he not supposed to alert someone else that you were missing? why had he taken it upon himself to find you? 

oh this was bad... this was really, really bad.

the captain was practically a machine of some sort. his hearing was immaculate too, just like a bat. it didn't matter if he would ever go blind one day, his excellent hearing made up for the lost sense. 

he was, perhaps, the only person who would be able to seek you out, even with your fabulous choice of hiding. 

although, now that you thought about it, sasha had several heightened senses too, but it was not as though you had heard her voice call out your name several seconds ago.

you kept an eye out for any closeness of ruffling leaves, any rough movement, or the sound of gas being pushed out of its cylinder to enable flight against gravity. so far so good, you had almost convinced yourself that you were being paranoid. maybe that had been a sign for you to get back to your dorm. and quickly, at that.

you relaxed your stance against the tree, relieved. perhaps that had been your second mistake in the same minute.

"L/N!"

you actually did fall this time. panicked and alarmed, you had no choice but to hurriedly click the top trigger of your controller grip, your wires shooting out to latch themselves onto the tree branch you had fallen from, leaving you hanging upside down in the air. 

it was silent now, only the sound of your blood pounding in your ears as the liquid dived to your brain. your head was beginning to feel heavy with the added weight. 

he was listening, you knew. he had heard the sound of your wires and the latch, and he was probably trying to track you down.

you had to make a move. now.

taking a deep breath in, you pulled the lever, reeling the wires back in as you fell several feet. heart pounding against your chest, you clicked the trop trigger again, shooting your wires against a tree to your left and a tree to your right. with great impulse, you pushed your legs over your head to flip yourself, no longer upside down. 

"cadet l/n!" you heard him yell, almost as if he had spotted you.

you wasted no time in clicking the bottom trigger, your gas shooting out of its cylinder as you took off, flying through the trees and making it back to main base.

with a short glance over your shoulder, your teeth gritted once you realised that the captain was nearly hot on your trail.

"get back here, that's an order!" he snapped, displeased and unimpressed with this game of cat and mouse.

you clenched your jaw, turning away from him and continuing your trip despite his order, your fingers working in that similar pattern: top trigger, bottom trigger, and then back again. 

and then you had been met with another problem.

because your hiding place had been deeper into the woods, going for the main base would take longer, especially now that you needed to be quicker because of the man following after you. you had to think fast, then. 

"l/n!"

going for the cadets would be quicker as you could run through the training field and head for the dorms, take the short cut, and be out of sight. men weren't allowed in the girls' barracks after all.

"l/n, turn around and --"

it would be a brilliant plan. other than the fact that you had to face everyone again, but you could tolerate it. just for a bit. 

instead of latching your wires onto a tree to your left and a tree to your right, you hooked them both in the same direction, swinging all the way around to change your direction.

and then you head back, using more gas because you knew that the captain, although stumped by your choice, was now closer than before. squinting your eyes, you could see that the area you had escaped from was growing closer and closer, yet the cadets there had grown smaller and smaller. when you were only around twenty trees behind, you could see that the training had continued: armin had been tasked with the job of timing the cadets. 

of course. that did make sense, after all. 

"l/n!"

the eyes of the remaining cadets had turned to you. you caught marco's eye (jean was no longer there) and gave him a grin, one that he did not know whether to return or not. instead, his eyes merely travelled to the presence behind you, looking worried at the sight. 

you flew over your classmates, almost as if it was your turn to be tested (armin had muttered a 'should i time her?') and continued to fly off.

but the captain was still trailing after you. 

"oi, fart girl!" he snapped angrily.

now that...

that stopped you.

you were now hanging low in between two trees your wires had gripped on to. 

you looked over your shoulder, eyes narrowed and brow twitching. looking down, you could see that you had barely made it away from where the cadets originally were (originally, for they had now come running over to you and the captain, who was standing on a tree branch higher than you, glowering). 

"what did you just call me?" you asked lowly. you landed yourself on a different tree branch, looking up at him with an expression of contempt.

captain levi clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"if i'd known that you would've responded to that rather than your own name, i would've said it sooner, fart girl."

you contemplated ridding yourself of your gear and simply diving head first into the ground. dying and never returning seemed a better option than to stand where you currently were and simply take the degrading lecture. you never got embarrassed. EVER.

so why, now, were you feeling heat rise to your cheeks? why was the hairs on your neck standing up? why were you curling in on yourself and avoiding the gaze of the captain?

the conclusion: you were embarrassed.

and to an extent you had never thought was even possible to reach.

"so you've found her!" a booming voice from below you called out to the captain.

keith shadis.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you hadn't been let off lightly (that was obvious, special treatment did not exist in the training corps even if you thoroughly believed that you deserved it).

but as you slammed the door to your room with ill-contained anger, you became well aware of what keith and captain levi were going to do. 

angry with not only yourself, but with your ex-husband and your arch nemesis, you aggressively pulled open the drawer attached to your bed-side table, strong enough to actually detach it completely. and that only made you more indignant. 

you placed the broken drawer on top of the table and pulled out your long forgotten diary. dust had collected on top of it, flying around your eyes when you blew it away and patted at it. it was a silly, old thing. something to just write your thoughts in (one of the villagers in your home town suggested it a long time ago, and that was a different story). it had been neglected for a while, every memory of using it locked in the back of your mind all the way up until now. 

it was a journal styled book, with pages incredibly similar to the texture and warm colour of fresh parchment paper. as you opened the book, your eyes merely skimmed over the rough doodles and bad handwriting:

you sighed as you stared at the first couple of pages of your diary. those were easier times, ancient ones, but easier all the same. that version of you, the one that first started the corps, clearly did not know what difficulty she'd be put through later on. 

you hurriedly flipped over to the next blank page. your eyebrows raised when you looked at the date of the last time you had written in there: november 29th 848. that was just before your meeting with commander erwin. you hadn't updated your diary on that event, but that was fine. you had other matters to address. 

pulling your wooden chair back eagerly, the legs screeching loudly against the floor boards, you sat yourself down and reached for your pen, writing down the date and the events of your dreadful day.

it hadn't been too long before you found yourself completely invested in writing more and more in your diary. but because of the new (and constant) gentle knocking on your door, you had to stop yourself, making a literal note to update the book soon. 

after being publicly embarrassed, you were almost one hundred percent certain that the person behind your door was marco. he had seen it all and he was always the type to comfort you when you needed it. right now, though? you needed time to yourself. you needed to vent out your anger. you needed to scream, be put in a room where you could smash things (particularly the heads of your ex-husband and your rival). 

surprised, you nearly kicked yourself at how the thought of hitting your ex had even come to mind, even if it did sound enticing. 

knock, knock!

your chair squeaked against the floor as you stood up, pushing it away from you absentmindedly as you turned to the door and silently shouted curse words at it. to be fair, your words weren't directly targetted at the person behind the door, more so at keith and captain levi. still, you had taken the anger out on yourself all the same, gripping onto the roots of your hair in a silent threat to pull it off your scalp. 

you mimed punching the door, fists clenched as you shook them.

the door had opened.

and it wasn't even marco that had been behind it.

it was mina.

and she had just witnessed your silent tantrum, eyes narrowed as her brows furrowed, hand held up as if she was about to knock again.

you froze, moved back to a normal stance, and stared back at her, blank faced.

"erm," she began, clearing her throat and wiping the palm of her hand on her pants. "you didn't come down for dinner, so i was wondering what you were -- what you were up to..."

you didn't say anything, tilting your head to the side as you awaited for a complete explanation of what she needed now.

"but if you're busy..." she continued, sounding unsure of how to react. her brows rose after the odd look on her face left. "well you looked busy --"

"get out."

"ok."

you had followed her out of your dorm despite the weird encounter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

captain levi was very irritated. 

very.

and who was it all because of?

well you of course! you were, he decided, practically the bane of his existence.

he had spent the last twenty minutes or so having a discussion with shadis about you in the commandant's office. the two had gone through a list of the punishments you had been given for previous misbehaviour (and mind you, there were a lot). captain levi had never seen so many reports in one file.

it only made his stomach flip over on itself when he had reminded himself that he would probably have to deal with this in a couple of months seeing as you were adamant on joining the scout regiment for whatever stupid reason. were you giving him a simple taster of what was to come? was this you preparing him for the trouble you would have him endure once you joined? 

shadis had informed the captain that he had inflicted every form of punishment the training corps allowed to be used on its cadets. 

every. single. one. 

and your behaviour, if anything, had possibly turned over to be at its worst: it seemed that disrespecting the captain of the scout regiment was crossing the line, for shadis had come up with a brand new form of punishment, designed specifically for you... and if the training corps ever encountered another cadet as wild as you in future (though it was clear that both shadis and captain levi doubted it ever would).

and shadis, the actual bastard, had put the job of breaking the news to you to him -- captain levi. 

that was what pissed him off.

firstly, you weren't even at dinner where you should have been. each cadet is legally required to be provided three meals a day, and it was crucial that everyone had their foodwith the amount of training and energy needed for a regular day. 

secondly, your friends had no idea where you were too. apparently, you hadn't been seen since the cat and mouse game you had played earlier. when he asked them why they hadn't looked for you (were they not supposed to be your friends?) they made it quite clear to the captain that you evoked fear from everyone -- even if they did not voice this. 

so you were missing and captain levi had no idea when he was supposed to alert you of your brand new punishment. oh, and did he mention that the punishment was supposed to start from tomorrow, too?

he stood by the double doors of the mess hall, watching as the girl with pigtails -- the one who had handed him her pocket watch earlier -- walked past him, heading towards the dorms. 

he was the captain of the scout regiment. scouting did not mean that he had to scout the whole of the training fields in search for you, a regular cadet. this was never mentioned in his contract; he had not signed himself up for this. even escaping the wrath of a titan was easier than the task forcefully handed to him by shadis, the bald coward. the commandant was your mentor, his responsibility. not the captain's -- at least, not yet.

after contemplating his life choices for a few more minutes, he found himself growing more agitated at the realisation that you were probably hiding in your dorm room.

the very area in which men were not allowed to enter.

he huffed, brows furrowing in fury and eyes glinting with annoyance. only you would put him through the shame of walking down the girls' barracks where he was not actually allowed to be. 

and that's where he found himself: walking down the girls' barracks in search for your dorm, ignoring the odd glances sent to him by several random female cadets as he plucked up the courage to ask one of them where your room was.

he did not wait for any questions the second the answer was given before darting forwards to find you.

where the hell is hange when you need her? he grumbled to himself in his mind, a black cloud of negativity looming over his head as he neared the door to your room.

he probably would have yelled out in frustration if he wasn't already being watched by several people. 

your stupid door was left open.

and that only meant one thing.

he stepped inside, dread filling his stomach: you were absent.

i walked all the way down here for nothing? he questioned silently, repressing the urge to kick the leg of your wooden chair and snap it in half.

he nearly turned away, about to storm off when something had caught his eye. your drawer was broken, left unattended on top of your table. he drew closer, unsure why, but he did, mildly interested.

the drawer was nearly empty, filled with hair ties and a few pens. 

but the thing sitting beside it was what peaked his interest more than he would have liked.

curious, he eyed the open book, feeling foolish when he had come under the impression that he had seen the nickname he had given her written down somewhere there. 

but he was right.

his eyes scanned the page, pointer finger sliding down the paper when he had seen it:

'he made everyone call me fart girl!'

and he felt even more dotish when he had taken more than a minute to realise that this was your diary.

he flipped the page back, more engrossed than he would have liked to admit as he picked up the thick book and leaned against your table to read. 

what the fuck?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

he was back in his own office, having analysed your diary once more.

it was a good thing that his reaction time had been tested several times on expeditions, for he was equally prepared when the door had open loudly without warning.

he knew it was hange: she was the only one in the entire regiment who had never bothered to knock. 

and therefore, there was more haste than he usually had in hiding that book of yours inside his own drawer (much less prone to breaking, might he add). 

but perhaps he had been a little more slower than usual, or maybe the look on his face was more neutral than usual, for hange's eyes had narrowed behind the usual glasses she wore, looking at him with that look.

that look, the one where she used her brain to uncover secrets, puzzles and complicated plans.

there were few things in this world that worried captain levi. along with you being one of them, that look hange had settled comfortably on her face was another.

"what?" he snapped, irritated.

maybe his bark had a little more bite to it too, because the section commander's brows rose significantly.

"why do you look like that?" she asked, ask though she were uncovering the most fascinating thing in the world. it was the look she had when trying to discover the nature of titans. 

he stared at her, deadpanned.

"like what?"

"like you've just seen a ghost," she answered, stepping inside his office without his permission (as per usual, he had gotten used to it). "like you're hiding something --"

"get out."

"not until you tell me what you're hiding!" sang hange, walking further inside despite the captain's demand that she leave.

"not hiding anything," he lied calmly, picking up his discarded pen and scribbling random notes over his very important papers. he would worry about the damage later, he decided. "now leave."

hange continued as if she hadn't heard his final comment. "no! now, what's your secret, levi?"

"hange --"

"come on, levi!" said hange, standing up straighter than usual and placing a hand over her heart. "i won't tell anyone, scouts honour!"

it didn't take long before levi had finally decided that he had had enough and personally kicked hange out himself. 

she found herself standing outside his office, face met with his office door. 

she would find out what the secretive shorty is hiding.

she was determined.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

can anyone guess what her punishment will be? i highly doubt any of the guesses will be right... as mentioned, it's very unique ;)

all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted into the story myself.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist: (send an ask to be added)