lullabye

Many people seem to misunderstand or feel confused about Armin and Annie’s relationship. But the author wouldn’t have connected them without careful intention.

Some might find it hard to understand Armin and Annie’s love, but simply assuming it’s because of Bertholdt’s influence isn’t the right approach. It doesn’t align with the story’s emphasis on autonomous, self-driven love. In fact, this behavior is very much in line with Armin’s character. Ideal people often act in ways that don’t make rational sense.

I believe their relationship has roots going back to Season 1, sharing well-crafted, complementary traits. Considering Armin’s development through to the end, this is clearly an intentional relationship established by Isayama from early on. Moreover, they share a relationship that is too meaningful to be simply dismissed.

I’ve reinterpreted the events surrounding them while inferring the author’s intent. I’m not trying to force anyone to agree, just hoping people might take it lightly and see that this is one valid way to understand their connection.

1. Boy Meets Girl

In my view, their relationship was not forced by anyone, but rather portrayed as a natural result of mutual growth and understanding—a journey of self-discovery.

Their bond is built on complementary traits that allow them to admire one another. Annie possesses inner flaws but outward strength, while Armin has outward weaknesses but inner strength. Annie’s vulnerability was an internal cynicism and nihilistic attitude rooted in her troubled family background, while Armin’s vulnerability was an external lack of confidence in being “a weak person,” as revealed through the admiration—tinged with inferiority—he felt toward Eren and Mikasa. This mutual awareness explains why they took notice of each other.

In the ODM inspection scene, Annie shows concern for Armin, and when she learns he plans to join the Survey Corps, a faint sadness flickers across her expression. Armin tells her she’s kind for worrying about him. In that moment, at the very least, he sees her as a good person. Annie, in turn, recognizes Armin’s quiet determination, and he becomes the first to truly notice the hidden kindness within her. They each saw something in the other that quietly stood out. In particular, Armin’s speech in Trost demonstrated the kind of strength to go against the tide—something she deeply admired.

(Annie cared about Armin, and when she heard that he was going to join the Survey Corps, she showed a sad expression.)

Also, through the close-up interviews on AU Smartpass (2014), we gain further insight into how they perceive each other.

— Annie: “Armin... he lacks strength, so is often a hindrance, but he doesn’t complain or ask for help... he has willpower.”

— Armin: “I thought that, Annie, despite coming off as cold and unfriendly, is pretty observant of her surroundings...”

And their interactions in the OAD, we can see that they had a relatively close relationship.

1-1) A Good Person Doesn’t Gamble

Their meaningful interaction was revealed in Stohess, underscoring the bond between them. Armin was able to recognize the Female Titan’s identity just by looking into her eyes. He voluntarily took the initiative to lure Annie out. It seemed he believed he had something within himself that could persuade her. Armin saw through Annie’s inner longing to be a good person and made use of the goodwill she felt toward him. This entire course of action would have been impossible if Armin hadn’t cared about her.

Armin’s gamble was the right one. We may never know how far he had to push her inner world down to make it happen. But Armin cared about Annie, and he was one of the few who could catch even a faint glimpse of the world inside her. She wanted to be a good person, and Armin chose to use the fact that, to him, she already was.

(Even though she was somewhat aware that it was a trap, Annie couldn’t bring herself to refuse to show kindness to Armin.)

(Though the words are directed at Eren, the gaze is fixed on Armin — a deliberate directorial choice.)

(Annie is hurt by Armin’s gaze—their relationship formed through glances.)

(Just as Annie couldn’t bring herself to kill Armin, Armin also couldn’t bring himself to expose Annie’s crime—the discovery of Marco’s ODM gear—for an entire month.)

(Annie couldn’t kill Armin because of an “indescribable something.”)

Annie nearly killed Jean, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same to Armin—twice. It’s true that she felt a sense of camaraderie with the 104th trainees and tried not to harm them more than necessary. However, it is also a fact that Annie treated Armin in a uniquely special way. Her kindness was focused on Armin—with deliberate narrative intent. Armin represents the humanity that Annie couldn’t let go of, even within her cruelty.

(Right after Annie accepted the mission and during their later reunion, there are depictions of Armin feeling guilt about this matter.)

“Armin, I'm glad I could be a good person to you...”

In that moment, Annie was seized by a sudden, inexplicable sense of liberation. Betrayal, trust, friendship, the charade she had played, even her faith in Armin—all the things that had weighed her down—fell away. She could now betray even the faint trace of hope that remained within her. Just as Armin had. Because they were not necessarily good person, they gambled.

1-2) The Things That Get Us Into Trouble

(A magazine that hints at Annie’s feelings for Armin)

— Armin: “There are also people who are forced into a dilemma because of such special feelings. I realized that those feelings are often made use of... That is why, even if I have someone I like, I won't say it. Because it will end up as a weakness of mine...(close-up interviews on AU Smartpass, 2014)”

Armin spoke about love in this way. His perspective mirrored the situation they found themselves in: Annie, caught up in that “indescribable something” she felt toward Armin, had ended up putting herself in a difficult position.

It was a momentary whim. For a brief time, she placed being a good person to Armin above returning to her father. This choice ultimately led to her downfall. Armin, too, was unable to reveal her alleged guilt for an entire month. Deep down, he denied or wished to ignore the possibility that the enemy might be Annie. Even after her true identity was uncovered, he still tried to communicate with her. Whether this was mere camaraderie or something more cannot be determined. But at the very least, it was clear that something was unfolding between them.

In the Female Titan arc, Annie was portrayed as a monster alongside Eren, while her human side was emphasized through Armin. I felt that Annie and Armin were connected on a deeply human level.

Armin represented the humanity that Annie still couldn’t fully let go of. However, after the Battle of Stohess District, Armin realized that while he could love Annie as a human, he could not love her as a monster. Armin was responsible for the blood spilled by the Survey Corps that day.

1-3) The Monster and the Good Person

Of course, at this stage, it’s not certain whether they were already in love. However, it’s clear that they regarded each other as somewhat special—and that there was a genuine human affection between them.

In particular, Annie’s feelings for Armin are expressed quite openly. For example, she deliberately directs her gaze toward him when she mentions “the feelings of a feeble maiden.” And she couldn’t bring herself to kill Armin because of that indescribable something she felt.

​Furthermore, Armin was the first person to recognize Annie’s kindness—to see her as a good person. He was the only one who treated her as a girl, not as a weapon. That might seem like a small detail, but to someone starved of affection, those words must have been a true source of comfort.

However, due to the cynicism shaped by her difficult family background, Annie was unable to fully understand her own emotions, while Armin was a boy who hid his feelings because of his particular view on love. This likely served as the author’s justification for portraying their relationship in such a complex and nuanced way.

​Personally, I believe Armin symbolized the kind of person Annie aspired to be—a good person. Their relationship repeatedly invokes the metaphor of the “monster” and the “good person.” At this point in the story, it’s enough to understand that they either hadn’t fully recognized their feelings yet—due to emotional immaturity or conflicting circumstances—or that their bond simply carried the potential to blossom into love.

2. Bertholdt Effect

I believe the author introduced the so-called 'Bertholdt effect' only to explicitly refute it—just as Mikasa’s obsessive attachment to Eren was ultimately revealed to be nothing more than simple love, not driven by any deeper or mysterious cause. There are far more reasons to reject that theory than to accept it.

“(To Eren, who asks about Bertholdt’s memories) Nothing that seemed useful.”

Considering how inconsistently memory inheritance works, it’s unlikely that Armin inherited much from Bertholdt’s memories. The inheritance period was relatively short—only four years—and Armin isn’t even related to Bertholdt by blood. There are no scenes explicitly showing Armin accessing inherited memories—only indirect implications. In fact, not a single scene depicts him actively using Bertholdt’s memories.

From 845 to 850, Ymir had little to no access to Marcel’s memories, and Eren also took a long time to recall his father’s. Armin had no knowledge of Marley or the Warriors. In fact, he even admitted that he couldn’t retrieve anything useful from Bertholdt’s memories. His awe and wonder when he first saw the ocean — and again when he arrived in Marley — remained completely genuine. The memories of the world outside the walls must have been either nonexistent or extremely faint. The closer we get to Armin’s early visits to Annie’s crystal, the less likely it becomes that Bertholdt’s memories played any role. To explain it as Bertholdt’s doing would be not only ironic, but also misguided. It’s simply not the right approach.

Considering Annie’s isolated personality and withdrawn attitude, it’s unlikely that Armin would have inherited any deep or meaningful memories of her. In fact, those memories would probably have differed little from the way Armin perceived Annie back in their cadet days. Therefore, the claim that he fell in love with her solely because of Bertholdt’s memories — without any genuine feelings of his own — is ultimately unconvincing.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he saw nothing at all—but it certainly wasn’t to the extent Eren implied. It didn’t have a profound impact on him. Rather, Armin’s actions appear to be guided by his own will.

Personally, I believe the memories Armin inherited were mostly from Paradis Island: memories of training with his friends, moments when they felt guilt and helplessness, and especially the trauma of causing Marco’s death. These would have helped Armin, someone who constantly seeks understanding, empathize with the Warriors.

This could be considered a set of “useless” memories that, while not significantly impacting the story (such as Armin obtaining information about the Warrior Unit in Marley from Bertholdt’s memories), help him better understand the Warriors’ perspective.

2-1) A Lie in the Guise of Truth

The idea of inheriting someone else’s emotions is simply absurd. Porco didn’t care about Historia during the Paradis infiltration, and Eren never felt Grisha’s guilt toward Zeke. Armin and Reiner didn’t share a deep bond either. If inheriting emotions were truly possible, the Reiss and Tybur families—who have passed down the Titan powers for generations—would be plagued by incest. And if Erwin had eaten Bertholdt, would he have fallen in love with Annie?

Why would something never shown anywhere else in the story suddenly apply only to Armin—and only in the context of love? Especially when the sole basis for this claim is Eren’s lie.

Everything else shapes Armin’s identity, yet the feeling of love for Annie alone is supposed to belong to Bertholdt. That would require a massive leap in both the scope and impact of memory inheritance—so it’s simply not a reasonable explanation.

The timing of Armin inheriting Bertholdt’s power was merely coincidental or due to circumstantial factors, and Eren exploited that coincidence to support his lie. This seems to be a source of confusion for many people. The creator deliberately planted narrative devices to heighten the shock and plausibility of the “table scene.” These were intentional misdirections—crafted to appear believable.

• The special bond of the Ackermans, and Mikasa’s headaches.

• The highly contrived scene where Mikasa subdues Armin.

• Eren’s ambiguous feelings toward Mikasa and the line, “Mikasa, I’ve always hated you.”

• Armin’s ambiguous feelings toward Annie, and the deliberately unclear timing of his visits to her crystal.

This is a narrative device crafted to make Eren’s lie feel convincing. By first presenting shocking claims to draw the audience in, and then later refuting them, the story reestablishes a sense of justification. Consequently, the emotional threads initially implied may appear subtle or even suspicious—but in hindsight, they can be read either as genuine emotional hints or as narrative evidence of deception.

This is especially true if we focus on Armin’s situation. First, Eren needed to confuse Armin to gain control over the conversation. And to keep readers immersed, the story had to make that confusion plausible. The ambiguous timing of Armin’s visits to the crystal also served to make his love appear sudden.

The limited depiction of Armin’s emotions serves a similar purpose. Looking at Armin’s view on love from the close-up interview on AU Smartpass—“...That is why, even if I have someone I like, I won't say it. Because it will end up as a weakness of mine...”—we can understand this intention to some extent.

It’s highly likely that Eren’s claim about the “Bertholdt effect” was a lie. Considering that he lied to Mikasa to push her away, it makes perfect sense that he’d do the same to Armin—using emotional manipulation. There’s no reason to think he’d suddenly be honest with Armin and Armin alone. After all, Eren didn’t truly want to hurt him.

This also implies that Annie was a significant figure to Armin. Eren used her as a tool to wound him emotionally—which only works if Annie genuinely mattered to him. If Armin hadn’t truly loved her, Eren would have chosen a different method.

This is later admitted once again by Eren. The fact that Zeke indirectly denies the so-called “Bertholdt effect,” followed immediately by Armin’s confession in the very next episode, reveals a deliberate narrative intention.

Armin had already suspected that Eren was lying. Unlike Mikasa, he didn’t waver in the face of Eren’s harsh words—he seemed confident in his own emotions. Furthermore, when Annie’s crystal was undone, Armin initially regarded her as a potential threat. More importantly, he prioritized rescuing Falco. He was never controlled by anyone, nor did he abandon his responsibilities due to personal feelings.

In the confession scene between Armin and Annie, their conversation revolves around the concept of being a “good person.” This alone makes it clear that the dialogue is uniquely theirs. It also confirms that their relationship, which began as early as Season 1, held deep emotional significance. Mikasa, too, disregarded Eren’s words and supported their relationship.

While it’s true that Bertholdt’s memories helped Armin understand Annie better, dismissing Armin’s visits and the love that grew from them as merely the result of Bertholdt’s influence is inappropriate. Such a view completely ignores Armin’s unique personality and his own free will.

3. Armin’s Motivation

(An official voice drama depicting Armin going to see Annie while Eren watches — could this be where Eren’s idea at the table scene originated?)

The exact timing of Armin’s first visit to Annie is unclear—it could have been either before or after the retaking of Wall Maria and his inheritance of the Colossal Titan. However, the voice drama is believed to take place shortly after they saw the ocean, and based on what is said in the dialogue, it’s clear that Armin had already been visiting her regularly. While it’s not certain, I currently estimate the timing to be shortly after the medal ceremony.

This is based on several clues: Armin is depicted wearing his medal, and It might have functioned as a kind of authorization to visit. the emotional impact of Floch’s accusations, and the hairstyles of both Hitch and Armin during that time.

3-1) Escalation of Mental Burden

According to Isayama’s Q&A interview (2015), Armin would often scream alone in the forest to release stress. From this, we can imagine Armin speaking to Annie in her crystal. It is also a hint that their relationship was kept in mind. The main reason Armin visited her was to find emotional solace—not just to comfort her or because of some “Bertholdt effect,” but because it aligned with his own emotional needs.

At the time, Armin was under immense psychological strain. Consider how he mentally broke down when the Okapi Titan captured him. He experienced killing for the first time. And he also had to ate Bertholdt, who was once his friend. Eren was changing rapidly. Being chosen instead of Erwin made him feel the weight of countless critical gazes. Armin sought out Annie to relieve that mental burden.

Listen closely to what Armin says in front of Annie’s crystal—in the anime and official voice dramas. He shares his worries and talks about himself while holding the conch shell. Even in a cruel world, we see a version of Armin who still dreams of understanding and hope.

3-2) The Trait of Never Giving Up on Understanding

Another reason lies in Armin’s relentless pursuit of understanding. He genuinely wanted to understand Annie. To him, there was something about her that couldn’t be explained by the simple label of “enemy.” That something was the kindness she had shown him. Annie couldn’t bring herself to kill Armin—yet Armin had, in a way, driven her to her death. Their roles had reversed, and the contradiction lingered in his mind, accompanied by a guilt he couldn’t quite name.

The expansion of the world gave Armin a broader perspective and deeper longing—but also more concerns. To him, Annie was like a forest. The fact that she showed him kindness despite being an enemy reminded him that she wasn’t simply evil. As someone who tries to understand others, Armin naturally wanted to understand her. That desire drove him to visit her.

It seems Armin believed in the warmth he once sensed from Annie. And he projected his ideals onto that warmth. His desire to understand her reminded him of his longing for the unknown and his hope for dialogue. Perhaps that’s why he so desperately sought to know her reasons—why she had to do what she did. Armin might have been trying to find the real Annie, the person beyond all the guilt and bloodshed. Just like when he once retrieved a conch shell from a sea of blood.

3-3) How to Love a Monster

Considering Armin’s willingness to communicate, his persistent spirit of understanding, his ways of coping with mental burdens and stress, and the feelings he harbored since Season 1, it is reasonable to conclude that this love arose from Armin’s own will, independent of external influence. Bertholdt’s memories may have accelerated Armin’s understanding, but not his emotions — and the judgment of that understanding has always been Armin’s own.

After the Raid on Liberio, Armin gained a deeper understanding of the Warriors’ perspective and grew into someone capable of empathizing with both sides. He felt compassion not only for Annie, but also for Bertholdt — the very person who had trampled his homeland, killed many of his comrades, and nearly brought him to death’s door. Yet, they had once been friends. The story consistently emphasizes that they weren’t so different; with just a shift in perspective, they could have remained friends — just as they were during their cadet days. When Hitch tells Annie, “I heard your story from Armin,” it becomes clear that Armin had already come to truly understand them.

Though they couldn’t hold each other physically, they were deeply connected mentally. Armin’s confession of his sins to Annie feels reminiscent of a confessional booth — projecting his inner turmoil onto her, seeking comfort, and trying to console the “monsters” they had become. Just as Annie maintained her sanity through Armin’s presence, Armin found emotional support in her. Given the human affection they shared since their training days, it’s only natural that Armin’s feelings for Annie developed into genuine love over. He built this love slowly and healthily.

Any sense of moral superiority between Armin and Annie had lost its meaning. Now, Armin and Annie faced each other as monsters. To fully accept her was, in essence, to understand himself. I believe that from this moment on, Armin was finally able to truly comprehend his own feelings. What remained unchanged were his feelings. In a turbulent world, the one thing he held onto was love. It was all he could accept.

“Annie, please... say something.” Armin said that as he gently held the conch shell.

4. The Author’s Intention

“Are you human or are you titans—are you a good person, or a monster?”

The charm of “AruAni” lies in their complementary traits and the dynamic way their relationship emotionally evolves depending on the circumstances. It is a subtle yet deeply engaging bond that makes understanding them all the more rewarding. Armin embodies the idealistic side for Annie, while Annie brings a sense of realism to Armin. Furthermore, their perspectives on what it means to be a “good person” enrich the story by exploring the nuances of good and evil, as well as complex moral dilemmas.

In short, the feelings that began as a simple human connection during their cadet days gradually blossomed into love over the four years Armin spent visiting Annie in the crystal. That love ultimately came to fruition as they faced the end of the world together. Their relationship is not rooted in moral superiority, but in mutual understanding. It is a healthy bond grounded in emotional connection and shared growth.

4-1) Fix You

This dynamic between Armin and Annie encapsulates the core message of the series. Thematically, it suggests the possibility of an ideal world—where hatred transforms into love through mutual understanding. On a personal level, it symbolically represents the recovery of humanity: the journey of those who were forced to become monsters—child soldiers swept up in an era of war—gradually becoming human again through empathy and understanding.

This is also why I see their relationship as clearly intentional. Considering that Armin is both the narrator and the one who bears the burden of survival, it seems the author always intended him to symbolize reconciliation between those inside and outside the Walls. When this concept is scaled down to the personal level, it becomes a story of hatred and love between individuals—with Annie being the most fitting counterpart. Their relationship connects silence and conversation, and even if peace on a global scale may be impossible, it shows that the chain of hatred can still be broken on a personal level.

Attack on Titan is a story that emphasizes agency in love rather than blind affection. If Armin’s love had been forced upon him by someone else, he would never have confessed it, and Isayama would never have portrayed it positively. Armin and Annie’s relationship represents, in a narrow sense, personal growth through understanding and love; in a broader sense, it shows the process of rebuilding hatred into love—and ultimately peace—through dialogue. It is no coincidence that Armin was chosen to guide the world toward peace.

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5. My Own Take

Armin and Annie’s relationship blurs the line between good and evil through the metaphor of the monster and the good person, creating a moral dilemma. What we should focus on is not who is more deserving, but the process by which hatred transforms into love through understanding. It is, at its core, simply the process of one human learning to love another.

The bond between Armin and Annie is the story of “monsters” who longed to become “good person.” To understand each other was, in turn, to understand themselves. Just as Armin picked up a conch shell in a sea of blood, he saw the girl within the monster named Annie.

And he is a boy who chooses to live in a cruel world for the sake of beauty. The love with Annie symbolizes that very way of life for Armin. Through Armin, Annie was able to rediscover her true self. That’s why she was able to break free from her cynicism and make a choice that defied the flow. Recovering Armin from a life stained with regret made her truly alive again

5-1) When You’re Fallin’, You Can’t Dance

“I'd do it all over again.”

All of her actions, it’s said, were not driven by some grand cause to save the world—but simply by the desire to return to her father. For the sake of what was precious to her, she trampled on what was precious to others. Even as she was overwhelmed by guilt and despair at the corpses left in her wake, she admitted she would do it all over again. If it meant seeing her father again.

That was the true nature of the monster named Annie Leonhart—utterly selfish, yet profoundly realistic; almost small-minded in a way. She was still just a “regular people.” It was the burden of a vast current she could not resist, and a cry against her own cynicism.

Annie saw Armin as a good person while regarding herself as a monster. Because of this, she may have felt unworthy of being by Armin’s side. Alongside the compulsion to see herself as a “monster,” Annie also longed to be a “good person.” Her cynicism and avoidance slowly eroded her sense of identity each time she drifted further from that ideal.

But Armin took her hand. He did not deny her monster side, and he accepted his own monster as well. It was a process of accepting each other as they truly were. In a world filled with violence, this was the power and value of understanding and empathy. It was at this moment that Annie named that “indescribable something” by the name of love. Annie sat beside Armin once again.

Armin, too, had lost his humanity countless times under the banner of saving mankind. He knew all too well that he was not a good person. He carried with him an overwhelming sense of guilt—voices not only of soldiers, but of civilians, sometimes even children, and at times, of his own homeland, comrades, and friends.

There was no such thing as a “good person.” What existed were only people—and those who wished to be human. Much less would a monster ever blush.

Annie’s growth lies in her realization of the importance not only of her father but also of her comrades and Armin. She breaks free from her cynical attitude and begins to seek her true self. Until then, she had merely been one of the “regular people,” drifting along with the current—but through Kiyomi’s words and Falco’s help, she finally found the strength to resist it. At the end of that choice stood Armin—whose heart is connected to hers (Guidebook, 2021).

— Annie: “...On the contrary, if I could find one, maybe this meaningless world... might become a little better(close-up interview on AU Smartpass, 2014).”

Morning and evening. Our lives may be nothing more than a cycle filled with emptiness. And yet, if there is anything that can make life rich, it is love. If Annie could find someone truly precious within her nihilistic world, then perhaps that very meaninglessness could finally give rise to meaning. A meaning that allows one to live for tomorrow, with a sense of hope—like Zeke simply playing catch, or like their childhood selves running toward that tree on the hill. Armin is someone who can find meaning in the meaningless, and for Annie, he was that person all the more.

She seemed as if she were dreaming of an escape with her lover—like Eren and Mikasa's life in the cabin. In a world where there was nothing left for her to love, it felt like she just wanted to stay with Armin. But just as Mikasa couldn't stop Eren's advance, Armin too must move toward the conclusion of his choice, and Annie cannot stop him. Armin, too, understood Annie’s fragile heart and wished for her to find peace rather than pain, so he didn’t stop her from leaving. Mikasa cared for them because she knew better than anyone what it meant to carry such regret while moving forward.

There can be no paradise where you escaped and arrived. Just as Paradis Island was never a true paradise for the Eldians, Hizuru-the land Annie's ship was bound for—was never going to be hers. Her paradise was no longer a place, but a "form."

Mikasa's growth lies in letting go of Eren, while Annie's lies in being with Armin. Annie was able to be honest with herself through Armin. She no longer felt bound by the compulsion to see herself as a “monster,” or the yearning to be a “good person.” Because of this, she made a choice without regret. The bird broke the boat sailing on regret—her former self—and flew toward her own “life.”

This imagery evokes the themes of Demian. Armin is a central figure who breaks down the boundary between good and evil—there are no good person, only those who are useful. It was this Armin that Annie found at the end of her journey toward personal growth.

This was something only Armin could give Annie, which is why I believe their relationship holds an even deeper meaning. Without Armin, those four years of conversation would have been meaningless. The complexity and mutual understanding between them moved Annie’s heart precisely because it was Armin—no one else.

"I'm glad, Annie... should just keep on being Annie."

Armin is a character who places great importance on “beauty” in a world that is both beautiful and cruel. He saw kindness in Annie, and even after she became a “monster,” she never lost that kindness toward him. Believing in that beauty and investing his ideals in it, Armin began to see Annie in a new light. As long as he could believe that beauty was real, he was fully capable of loving her.

In the scene where Armin speaks to Annie’s crystal, he’s holding a conch shell in his hand. The conch shell symbolizes his ideals. It also serves as a clear narrative device affirming that his conversation with Annie stems from his own identity. This reflects Armin’s understanding of, and hope for, the unknown that is “Annie Leonhart”—a hope that ultimately encompasses love. The human inner world is like another ocean.

Armin was the reward for the humanity Annie never let go of, and Annie was the realization of the conch shell Armin used to hold—his ideals, hope, beauty, and love—even if they once seemed like empty idealism.

A boy who once longed for the world beyond the Walls falls in love with a girl from beyond them. This is that kind of story. To find love on the side of hatred, to be with someone who came from beyond the Walls—could there be any ending more fitting for Armin?

Eren and Mikasa’s relationship holds significance in the progression of the story, while Armin and Annie’s relationship carries meaning in its resolution. Their love resembles the process of rebuilding what has been reduced to ruins—whether it be the heart, or the world.

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