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That weird girl was staring at him again.
Connie scowled, scooting a few inches to the left. Every time he'd come out onto the porch, that girl with the messy brown ponytail was watching him from the side. Connie bit into his loaf of bread and tried to ignore her.
A shadow suddenly darted past him, snatching the loaf right out of his hands. It happened so quickly all Connie saw was the tail end of the familiar brown ponytail flicking across his vision.
"Hey!" he objected, anger filling every inch of his eight-year-old body. He leapt from the porch and ran after her. "Come back! That's mine!"
She was fast; even running as hard as he could he couldn't keep up with her. Connie stopped and panted, his hands on his knees.
He found her again a few moments later, behind a neighboring house, curled up with her knees to her chest and both hands cupped around the loaf. He walked up to her, and she flinched.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "It just looked… really good."
Connie's anger faded. Maybe he shouldn't be so mad at her. She could be homeless, or a refugee. "How long's it been since you've eaten?" he asked.
"Two days," she whispered.
Connie frowned, scrunching up his face a moment.
"I'll be back," he declared, turning around and rushing off.
He returned in two minutes, arms overflowing with fruit and bread loaves, and a couple warm potatoes. The girl's eyes lit up upon seeing so much food, which she accepted eagerly and was scarfing down seconds later.
"Wow, you weren't kidding," Connie marveled. After watching for a bit, he plunked himself down next to her, bringing his own scraped knees up to his chest. "My name's Connie. What's yours?"
Around a mouthful of potato she replied, "Sasha. Sasha Braus." She swallowed, pointing off towards a house down the street. "We just moved in, but Daddy hasn't found a job yet." She pouted adorably. "And I'm not old enough to have my own bow yet, so I can't go hunt on my own."
"You can hunt?" asked Connie, turning eagerly towards her.
"Yeah."
"Can you teach me?" he begged.
Sasha swallowed her mouthful and beamed. "Sure!"
-AOT-
And from that point on, the two were inseparable.
Sasha taught him how to hunt all right, and fish, and catch bugs, and find edible plants. In exchange, he taught her how to cook, how to throw a punch, and he also shared food with her every day. It became part of her standard greeting for him.
"Hi Connie! How was today? Do you have any food?"
They would spend hours hiking off into the forest, pushing each other into the mud, swinging sticks as make-believe swords as they pretended to kill Titans together.
"Hey Potato Girl!" he'd shout at her from the porch. "I'll bet you taste so nasty the Titans would spit you right out!"
"Dingus!" she'd yell back. "Your mom's so ugly she could BE a Titan!"
And then they'd laugh and chase each other around the yard, until their parents sternly called them back inside.
It came as no surprise, when young adulthood called and they began thinking about their future, that they followed each other into the military. Connie claimed Sasha was the one who tagged along, Sasha insisted it was him who'd declared he'd follow her forever.
Eren never did get the story straight from them.
"I'm sorry, who are you again?" he asked, the first day after initiation when he met them for the second time.
Sasha beamed. "I'm Sasha. Baldie here is my best friend Connie Springer." She smacked him hard on the back, knocking the wind out of him.
He clutched his stomach. "Also her favorite punching bag," he gasped, wheezing as he doubled over.
Sasha rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's an idiot," she told Eren.
Connie straightened, smirking and leaning up on his tiptoes to hiss right in her ear, "Takes one to know one, Potato Bitch."
Then he yanked hard on her ponytail and took off running.
"Dickface!" she yelled, giving chase.
They didn't stop until Shadis caught them and had them disciplined for "Brawling in the camp, inappropriate usage of standard-issue 3D maneuver gear, excessive laughter, horseplay, and general chicanery."